"Did you see that?! That pitch was insane!"
"Yeah—was that 158 km/h?!"
"Probably! Too bad there's no speed gun here!"
The stands erupted in excitement.
Even without a radar reading, everyone could feel it—
That overwhelming speed.
In the audience, Yuki Masashi felt goosebumps rise across his skin.
As a batter, he understood better than anyone.
That wasn't just a fastball.
It was pressure.
Raw, overwhelming power.
The kind that could break weaker hitters—
And ignite stronger ones.
On the field—
Ushijima delivered the second pitch.
The first had been a blazing four-seam fastball, easily over 155 km/h.
Even if it didn't fully clip the zone, it forced the batter to react.
Now—
He changed speeds.
Thump!
The ball snapped into the glove.
No swing.
The batter hesitated.
That first pitch had shaken him.
He had expected another high-velocity fastball—
Something wild, something overpowering.
Instead—
Ushijima threw a two-seam fastball at around 144 km/h.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Driven straight into the inside corner.
"Strike!"
Two strikes.
The pressure mounted instantly.
The third pitch came.
The batter focused.
Slower…
Not as fast as the first.
Slightly slower than the second.
Breaking ball?
He committed to the swing—
But at the last moment—
The ball changed.
What looked like a fastball suddenly dipped—
A sharp sinking movement.
The bat cut through empty air.
Thump!
"Strike three!"
"Ora!"
Ushijima clenched his fist on the mound.
The crowd erupted once again.
Even when the batter adjusted his stance—
Even when he openly challenged the inside—
Ushijima didn't retreat.
He attacked.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Three pitches.
All inside.
Strikeout.
Normally, pitchers would avoid this situation.
When a batter deliberately opens up to target the inside—
Throwing there becomes dangerous.
It's practically feeding the batter.
The safer option?
Go outside.
Avoid the risk.
But Ushijima—
Didn't care.
If you want the inside…
Then prove you can hit it.
That was his answer.
Absolute confidence.
Absolute control.
And because of that—
The momentum shifted completely to Seido.
Even Sensen's ace, Maki, felt it.
He clenched his fist.
Would I have thrown inside there…?
He already knew the answer.
Now he understood—
Why Ushijima Wakatoshi was feared.
"Nice one, Ushijima! One out!" Kuramochi shouted.
"Take it slow—we've got the momentum," Kominato added with a smile.
Ushijima's gaze shifted.
Next batter—
Maki Yosuke.
Ace versus ace.
Maki stepped into the box, his towering 195 cm frame casting a long shadow.
Ushijima held the ball, observing him carefully.
…He's tall.
Behind the plate, Miyuki was already thinking the same thing.
That height… it's a weakness too.
He set the target.
Low.
Inside.
Ushijima smirked faintly.
Great minds think alike.
He delivered.
Whoosh!
A fastball, nearly 145 km/h—
Low.
Tight to the inside corner.
Maki started to swing—
Then stopped.
Too low.
Snap!
"Strike!"
"…Damn it."
Maki clicked his tongue.
They're going straight for my weakness…
Second pitch—
No hesitation.
Same spot.
"Stop messing around!!!"
Maki swung aggressively—
But the ball moved.
It sank.
"Sinker?!"
He missed.
"Strike two!"
Behind the plate, Miyuki smiled.
Height gave Maki a powerful angle as a pitcher—
But as a batter?
Low inside pitches were difficult to handle.
And against Ushijima—
That weakness was fatal.
Because he didn't just have one pitch for that spot.
He had multiple.
Fastball.
Two-seam.
Sinker.
All targeting the same inside lane—
Each one different.
Each one deadly.
And once he locked onto that weakness—
There was no escape.