Seeing Suzuki Takahiro, his partner for three years, place the catcher’s mitt in the center of the strike zone and signal with his right hand for a straightforward duel, Yoshinaga Kentarou, whose face was already drenched in sweat, revealed a slight smile.
Then, he nodded and gave a thumbs-up to his friend at ho plate — he agreed with this pitch strategy.
The mont the baseball left his hand, the familiar sensation of the seams against his finger joints gave Yoshinaga Kentarou a sense of comfort. After a slight adjustnt, he started the pitching motion.
Raising both arms high, this motion activated and engaged all his muscles, followed by pulling his hands down while lifting the front leg.
"Pop!" With precision and force, Yoshinaga Kentarou’s lifted left leg took a substantial step forward, his gloved left hand guiding forward, while his right hand holding the ball expanded backward for montum—at this mont, his entire body was like a taut bow, all kinetic energy was fully accumulated, ready to release.
Feeling the power increasing within him, Yoshinaga Kentarou still felt it wasn’t enough: "A bit more...just a bit more..."
Facing Lin Guanglai in front of him, even exerting one hundred percent of his power was insufficient—it would only be at one hundred twenty or even two hundred percent strength that there would be a chance to strike him out.
In the cara lens, Yoshinaga Kentarou clenched his teeth, his face flushed red; it was at this mont, feeling his body fully stretched and unable to accumulate any more power, the man on the pitcher’s mound activated.
His legs deeply rooted in the ground, coupled with the exceptionally strong upper body built from years of training, both were propelled by the waist and hips, converging all power towards the white ball in Yoshinaga Kentarou’s right hand.
Pressing forward with the body, the arm swung, and the baseball released and shot forth.
Watching the high-speed spinning baseball leave streaks of afterimages, tracing white trajectories in the air, in the batting box to the right of ho plate, Lin Guanglai was already poised and ready to strike!
Gripping the bat with both hands, his upper body twisted backward, storing kinetic energy during this motion; when the left leg stepping forward lifted slightly, transferring all weight onto the rear right leg before it vigorously stepped forward again, the black-gold lacquered bat swung along with the body twist, tracing an arc in the air tightly close to him.
From Suzuki Takahiro’s perspective in the catcher’s seat, Lin Guanglai’s timing was clearly late; for this, he felt sowhat smug, believing his decision for a direct confrontation not only struck Lin Guanglai out but also greatly boosted Yoshinaga’s morale—this was a decision only a top-tier catcher could make.
Then, the loud "Clang—" of the bat hitting the ball pounded down like a heavy hamr on his head, leaving him seeing stars and feeling bloodied.
"It’s hit!!!"
This pitch by Yoshinaga Kentarou was actually executed very well, with speed intact and trendous pitch force squeezing Lin Guanglai’s swinging angle—if it had been him in spring, this ball definitely would have resulted in a strikeout; even hitting it out would likely result in a weak ground ball.
But now, even though Yoshinaga Kentarou indeed pressured Lin Guanglai, he still managed to strike the ball out using a completely new batting style.
The trajectory of the flying baseball wasn’t high, but its strong initial speed allowed it to fly far enough; moreover, Lin Guanglai deliberately delayed his swinging timing, further accelerating the initial speed of the ball.
This strong line drive eventually landed in the no-man’s-land in the center of left field, also helping Lin Guanglai successfully reach second base.
Amidst cheers from the third base side, Nihon University called a tiout.
Walking from ho plate to the pitcher’s mound, Suzuki Takahiro appeared dejected, clearly very disappointed with the outco of that batting session; he looked towards his partner with guilt and expressed his apology:
"Kentarou, I’m sorry, about that last at-bat..."
Before the sentence was even finished, Yoshinaga Kentarou interrupted him: "Okay, Takahiro, now is not the ti for apologies—save whatever you have to say for when we’re on our way to Koshien, we haven’t lost yet!"
"Hmm!"
As Nihon University’s infield players gathered on the pitcher’s mound to discuss subsequent strategies, outside Waseda Jitsugyo’s players’ area, Izumi Minoru was dragging Hagiyama Mitsuo, who was about to take to bat next, and similarly giving instructions:
"Mitsuo, manage the next at-bat as you see fit—try to hit for a base hit if you can, but if you feel overwheld by the opponent, opt for a bunt to advance Guanglai’s position."
Hagiyama Mitsuo nodded strongly, indicating he understood.
Then, Izumi Minoru turned his body towards Yagaki Kentaro not far away, and t his gaze—if Hagiyama Mitsuo couldn’t hit a base hit, he was the final hope of Waseda Jitsugyo to win the ga.
Watching the supervisor gradually walking towards him, Yagaki Kentaro felt a bit unwilling:
He knew, his batting performance in these two gas had been poor, missing four scoring chances in the ga against Showa, and in this ga only managing to get on base once through a walk—now in this mont urgently needing a base hit, the supervisor coming to him likely ant he would be substituted.
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