"Hahahaha~"
"Now this is getting interesting."
"Tanba-senpai, the God of In-house Battles—"
"Versus the super freshman, Ushijima-kouhai."
"One is Seido's Ace Pitcher."
"The other is a first-year.."
"This matchup is definitely worth watching."
Kuramochi was visibly excited, though deep down, he couldn't help wondering—
Who would come out on top?
Not only Kuramochi, but nearly all of the First String regulars had stopped what they were doing.
Kominato Ryosuke narrowed his eyes with his usual gentle smile, silently observing.
Yuki Tetsuya had already set his bat aside.
Miyuki Kazuya wore a dangerous grin, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Ushijima Wakatoshi stepped into the batter's box and lifted his gaze toward the pitcher's mound.
There stood Tanba Koichiro.
The coach positioned himself behind the catcher, temporarily acting as the umpire.
"The rules are simple," Coach Kataoka announced calmly.
"No base running. This is purely a pitching-versus-batting test."
"Tanba—your task is to strike out Ushijima with everything you've got."
"Ushijima—your task is to use your batting ability to deal with Tanba's pitches."
"Ten pitches."
"Begin."
The moment the command was given, the atmosphere changed.
Tanba, standing on the mound, inhaled slowly.
He already knew how dangerous this freshman was.
In just six days, Ushijima Wakatoshi's bunting ability or hitting infield had shaken the entire team.
Even Yuki—Seido's captain—was inferior to him in pure precision.
That alone was reason enough to be cautious.
This was not a batter he could afford to underestimate.
Boom—
At that moment, Tanba felt it.
A calm yet overwhelming blue aura radiated from Ushijima's body as he stood in the batter's box.
The pressure—
It felt exactly like facing Yuki Tetsuya.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Unyielding.
Tanba had faced countless cleanup hitters before.
But what shocked him—
Was that this pressure was coming from a first-year.
And not just any first-year.
This presence was already on par with a third-year cleanup hitter.
Miyauchi, squatting behind the plate, raised his glove and gave the sign.
Tanba glanced at it and immediately understood.
So that's it…
A greeting pitch.
Tanba adjusted his grip.
Right hand tight around the ball.
Both hands rose above his head.
Left leg lifted.
Then—
He stomped forward.
His waist twisted sharply, shoulders rotating in a clean, powerful motion.
His arm lashed forward like a whip.
Whoosh—!!
The baseball tore through the air.
The instant the ball left Tanba's hand—
Ushijima Wakatoshi's pupils shrank.
The pitch's information flooded his senses instantly.
A curveball.
Speed: 120 km/h.
Large vertical drop.
Significant arc.
The trajectory bent sharply downward as it approached the plate.
Bang!
The baseball slammed neatly into Miyauchi's glove.
Ushijima never swung.
Because this—
Was the first time he had seen a curveball with such a steep vertical break.
"Strike!"
Coach Kataoka's voice rang out clearly.
The first pitch—
Went to Tanba.
Ushijima Wakatoshi, who had been in a standard batting stance, slowly straightened his body.
He abandoned the crouched posture entirely.
Standing upright, bat lowered, he fixed his gaze on Tanba like a starving wolf locking onto prey.
His head tilted slightly.
A faint smirk curled at the corner of his lips.
Those eyes—cold, sharp, predatory—were no longer the eyes of a freshman.
At that moment, the aura radiating from Ushijima surged.
It was heavier than before.
Like a beast standing at the edge of a hunt—quiet, restrained, yet terrifying.
Tanba felt it instantly from the pitcher's mound.
The pressure increased sharply.
But this was an in-house battle.
Here, he was invincible.
Even when facing Yuki Tetsuya, Seido's captain, Tanba could confidently strike him out during internal matches.
This was his domain.
And Ushijima Wakatoshi—no matter how talented—was still a first-year.
"You're getting serious right from the start?" Ushijima said, straight-backed, eyes locked onto Tanba.
"I like that."
Then—
Ushijima suddenly stepped forward.
He gripped the bat with both hands and shifted his stance closer to home plate.
Much closer.
Knees bent.
Weight settled.
The moment everyone saw his position, their expressions changed.
Standing that close to the plate—
Was he trying to completely shut down the outside pitch?
But if Tanba threw inside—
The ball would be practically aimed at his body.
Was he not afraid?
And more importantly—
From this position, how could he possibly hit an inside pitch?
Even if he made contact, it should turn into a weak fly ball.
"This is a challenge."
Yuki Tetsuya immediately understood.
This was Ushijima's declaration of intent.
You threw outside before.
Now I'll guard it completely.
Dare you to come inside.
And not only that—
Even if you do, I'll still hit it.
Now the pressure was on Tanba.
Would he accept the challenge?
"Tch—annoying brat."
As a pitcher, Tanba understood perfectly.
His eyes widened slightly.
Miyauchi instantly caught on and set his glove—
Inside corner.
High.
Almost chest level.
Tanba gripped the ball tightly.
Then he fired.
Whoosh—!!
The baseball tore through the air with explosive force.
Four-seam fastball.
138 km/h.
Inside.
The instant the ball left his hand—
Ushijima saw everything.
Pitch type.
Speed.
Angle.
With Gold-level bunting vision and national-level infield-hit batting instincts, the pitch unfolded clearly in his mind.
An inside pitch.
Thrown directly at him.
From this distance, it was almost unavoidable.
But Ushijima didn't retreat.
In an impossibly tight swing space, he moved.
The bat snapped horizontally—
Then angled forward at the last moment.
Clang—!!!
A sharp, explosive metallic sound echoed across the field.
The baseball shot between first and second base on the right side.
It struck the infield—
Then kept bouncing.
And bouncing.
Carrying its speed straight into the outfield.
Silence.
Then—
"...!!!"
Everyone froze.
Because they all understood exactly what they had just seen.
"In that kind of space…"
"He still pulled it to the right side?!"
Kuramochi's jaw nearly hit the ground.
Yuki Tetsuya's eyes narrowed slightly—
And for the first time, a clear look of recognition appeared.
This wasn't luck.
This wasn't a fluke.
This was pure, terrifying skill.