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No pitcher, especially in a grueling sumr tournant with back-to-back gas, can claim to be completely immune to fatigue.

Even professional players wouldn't dare to make such a statent, let alone a teenager.

This kind of fatigue, when a pitcher pushes themselves to stay focused, can lead to irreversible mistakes.

On the third-base side, Komadai Fujimaki's coach, Nitta, stood at the front of the dugout, observing Eijun on the mound.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Opportunities will always co.

There's no need to rush—victory will surely belong to us.

"First pitch, low and outside. Sawamura, keep it low," Miyuki thought as he signaled the pitch.

Watching Eijun's state, a hint of concern flickered in his eyes.

He could see what Eijun himself hadn't realized—his fatigue was starting to show.

As a catcher, understanding and managing the pitcher's condition was his most critical role.

This inning must be resolved quickly, Miyuki decided, his sharp gaze reflecting his resolve as he flashed the signal.

On the mound, Eijun bent slightly and gave a small nod. Straightening his body, he lifted his right leg high, his left arm swinging powerfully.

"Whoosh!"

In an instant, the ball shot out, streaking toward the batter's box like a blazing beam of light.

Here it cos.

The radiant ball roared toward its target. In the batter's box, Kanemoto's pupils narrowed.

After a brief pause, he captured the ball's trajectory and stepped forward decisively, swinging the bat with fierce intensity.

"Swish."

"Ping!"

The ball and bat collided with a sharp sound.

Kanemoto felt the impact through the bat, and a slight smirk ford on his lips, his eyes glinting with a confident gleam.

"Whoosh."

The ball ricocheted off the bat, slamming into the ground.

"Bang."

"Foul ball!"

Kanemoto's smirk deepened as he glanced at Eijun on the mound.

The beads of sweat on Eijun's forehead and cheeks didn't escape his notice. This pitcher is starting to tire, Kanemoto thought. Now's our chance.

He glanced back toward the dugout.

Coach Nitta gave a subtle nod, and Akito, standing on first base, remained motionless. Yet Kanemoto's backward glance served as a silent signal—a clear ssage.

"That last pitch… I gripped it too tightly," Eijun thought, taking a deep breath and shaking his head to steady himself.

His breathing was quickening, and though it was only the fifth inning, he could already feel the fatigue creeping in.

The relentless sumr heat and the strain of pitching consecutive gas were taking their toll.

Eijun's weaknesses were gradually being exposed. He knew he couldn't afford to let this drag on. This inning must be resolved quickly.

Lifting his gaze, he t Miyuki's eyes.

Miyuki instantly understood.

This was Eijun's signal—not a sign of surrender, but a warning.

While Eijun still had so reserve strength, they had to be mindful of the long ga.

It was only the fifth inning, and half the match remained.

The terrifying mory of Narumiya i pitching 14 innings in the past lingered in Eijun's mind.

Even without the threat of extra innings, Eijun knew he had to pace himself.

If he burned through his energy now, there was no way he'd last through the final innings.

Controlled stamina and rhythm managent— that was the unspoken ssage Eijun conveyed to Miyuki for the first ti in this ga.

Miyuki's eyes sharpened with resolve.

The rhythm must change now.

But neither Miyuki, Eijun, nor Coach Kataoka realized that Komadai Fujimaki was already preparing to strike.

"Alright, I got it. Let's end this batter with this pitch—no more dragging it out," Miyuki said decisively, signaling his plan with a subtle movent of his fingers.

On the mound, Eijun's eyes flickered with understanding. He raised his arm, his right leg lifting high as he prepared to throw.

At the sa mont, Akito, standing near first base, narrowed his eyes, his body taut like a spring.

Then, like a bullet, he exploded off the base, sprinting toward second.

"Steal!"

The infielders were quick to react, with shouts ringing across the field.

"Whoa, a steal attempt now!?"

"Komadai Fujimaki really doesn't hold back when they go for it!"

"Haha, they're finally making their move!"

"No, it's not just a steal."

"It's a hit-and-run!"

In the batter's box, as the ball glead in flight, Kanemoto matched its brilliance with his timing. He stepped forward decisively, swinging his bat with everything he had.

"Whoosh!"

The bright white light of the pitch shot out from Eijun's grip. But as Akito's sudden movent distracted him for a split second, his fingers faltered slightly, causing a misstep in his pitch control.

I ssed up, Eijun thought, imdiately pouring all his strength into minimizing the error.

He concentrated his energy on the ball, trying to stabilize its flight as much as possible.

The ball glead brightly as it traveled toward the batter.

"Bang!"

Kanemoto's bat t the ball head-on with an intense impact, the sound echoing loudly throughout the stadium.

Damn, he caught it!? Eijun's expression darkened as the ball ricocheted off the bat.

Miyuki, standing behind the plate, was equally stunned.

He knew the pitch had missed its target, but the batter's clean, decisive swing left him montarily speechless.

"Whoosh!"

The ball soared into the air, climbing high above the field, its trajectory clear as it headed toward the right-center field.

"Right-center field!"

The white streak of the ball contrasted sharply with the dark uniforms of the runners racing across the bases.

The ball streaked past the infield and headed toward the outfield.

Isashiki Jun and Shirasu were already sprinting at full speed, keeping their eyes locked on the ball as it soared overhead.

"Whoosh."

The audience held their breath as the ball's arc glead under the sun. It seed as though ti had slowed.

Under the glowing ball, Shirasu positioned himself at the projected landing spot.

A smile of anticipation began to form among Seidou's players.

But just as he leaped for the catch, disaster struck.

"Whoosh."

The ball slipped past Shirasu's glove, falling just out of reach.

"Thud."

The smiles on Seidou's players froze, replaced by stunned silence, while Komadai Fujimaki's bench erupted with deafening cheers.

Amid the chaos, Akito sprinted around third and slid into ho plate.

Komadai Fujimaki's fifth-inning offense had scored a run, leveling the ga!

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