readbooksol Chapter 467 467: Unlocked
Chapter 467 467: Unlocked
"It flew out!!!"
The white ball traced a wide arc across the sky, crossed the entire field, and landed in the center field stands.
Even though Isashiki Jun had retreated to the far back of the field in advance, there was nothing he could do.
He could only watch as the baseball cleared him.
"Is this really a first-year?"
He was on par with Yuuki and Zhang Han.
Although Isashiki Jun was reluctant to admit it, there was a strong chance the opponent's ability surpassed his own.
Under the eyes of the entire stadium, Raichi Todoroki jogged around the bases and touched home plate.
The score became 1-0.
At the very start of the game, the Seido High School Baseball Team had fallen behind.
The supporters who had been cheering loudly for Seido went quiet.
It was also in that moment that the Seido players fully grasped what this game was going to be.
Their opponent today was not Inashiro Industrial, but that didn't make them any easier to handle.
In the dugout, Manager Ota nervously rubbed his hands.
He was less concerned about the Homerun itself than about Zhang Han's condition.
Would this young man, in his first game back from injury, hold up?
The current Seido High School Baseball Team could not afford that kind of setback.
But Zhang Han, having just given up a Homerun, didn't seem particularly shaken.
Perhaps it was more accurate to say that, knowing he was facing the same player who had hit a Homerun off Narumiya Mei, he had already considered this possibility.
And precisely because Narumiya Mei had also given one up, Zhang Han could put it in perspective.
As a pitcher, he had a clear gap with Narumiya Mei in both ability and reputation. If Narumiya Mei had given up a Homerun to this batter, there was nothing unreasonable about Zhang Han doing the same.
"Haha, as expected of my foolish son. Not bad."
Todoroki Raizo sounded genuinely pleased.
Raichi himself was still full of energy returning to the dugout, buzzing with excitement.
"The ball flew so clean, it was incredible!"
He wasn't being sarcastic. That was exactly how he felt. He had recognized the quality of Zhang Han's pitch, and that was precisely why connecting with it had felt so rewarding.
On the field, Miyuki had considered calling a timeout, but looking at Zhang Han's expression, he decided against it.
There was no point.
Zhang Han's pitch had been solid. And his demeanor after giving up the Homerun didn't suggest anything was wrong.
In that situation, stopping the game would have served no purpose.
They had given up a run. They could acknowledge the opponent's ability and move on.
"We gave up a run, but the hardest part is behind us. Let's face the next batter."
Second Batter, Akiba.
The Yakushi High School Baseball Team, or rather Todoroki Raizo, had placed enormous weight on the first three batters.
All three first-year standouts had been slotted into the top of the order.
The idea had likely been for someone to drive Raichi home after he got on base.
Instead, Raichi had cleared the bases himself.
With the bases empty, Zhang Han and Miyuki could reset with a clearer head.
A pitch approaching 150 kilometers per hour. Surely it wouldn't be so easy to keep hitting?
That was what both of them were thinking.
The reality was less forgiving.
The ball was hit cleanly into the outfield.
Although Sakai reacted quickly, the contact was clean enough that Akiba reached Second Base comfortably.
"Safe!"
No outs, runner on Second Base.
The tone of the entire stadium had shifted right from the opening. The Yakushi High School Baseball Team, whom many fans had not initially favored, was holding its own against the Seido High School Baseball Team.
Zhang Han, on whom so many fans had pinned their hopes, had given up a Homerun and then a double in his return from injury.
And that wasn't all. Coming up next was Mishima, a well-known hitter even from his middle school days.
The Seido High School Baseball Team was under pressure.
In the dugout, Tanba had been warming up since the moment Zhang Han took the mound.
But Coach Kataoka hadn't glanced his way once.
His eyes stayed on Zhang Han, still standing tall on the pitcher's mound, head up, reading the batter and the runner on Second Base without any sign of backing down.
Mishima was a talker. Even in the batter's box he kept up a stream of chatter, not giving anyone a moment's peace.
It took a warning from the umpire to finally close his mouth.
Even then, his eyes and body language kept needling.
Zhang Han's response was calm.
He had won a national runner-up in middle school, then reached the Koshien top eight with Seido the previous year.
For a high school player, Zhang Han's accumulated experience was substantial.
That kind of experience didn't show much when things were going well. In adversity, it was everything.
Somehow, Kataoka had identified Zhang Han as someone who could carry weight under pressure.
That quality was part of who he was.
It was the same principle that made Zhang Han hold back against opponents who had already given up: an innate sense of proportion that most players didn't naturally possess.
That same quality, in difficult moments, made him a very fitting pitcher.
More than just a pitcher, even.
A person built that way could excel in almost any position, in almost any field.
"What a remarkable person."
Kataoka thought to himself.
Because he saw this, even with Zhang Han facing significant pressure, Kataoka had no intention of making a change.
He trusted that Zhang Han and Miyuki would find a way through.
Even with Yakushi having anticipated and prepared, they couldn't have prepared well enough to completely neutralize a pitch approaching 150 kilometers per hour.
But in fact, they had.
Over the past few days, Todoroki Raizo had been running his players through pitching machine sessions at 150 kilometers per hour every day.
Not everyone could drive those pitches out yet, but almost everyone was making contact.
The first three batters in particular were hitting well.
Todoroki Raizo had made a calculated guess. Zhang Han had been playing throughout the tournament with no visible signs of his injury. Rumor had it his pitch speed had already crossed 150 kilometers. He would almost certainly appear in today's game, and Kataoka had simply been waiting for the right moment.
The preparation had paid off.
"He only throws a standard fastball with no particularly special characteristics. Even approaching 150 kilometers, a pitch like that struggles to overpower a strong lineup. At least in Tokyo high school baseball."
Todoroki Raizo muttered to himself.
He also knew that this assessment held only under the condition that Zhang Han was limited to his fastball.
Zhang Han's fastball was clean and consistent, almost mechanical in its delivery. And because his motion was large, the release point was arguably easier to read than a pitching machine.
Without a breaking ball or another distinct weapon, a fastball like Zhang Han's might even be more hittable than one from a machine.
Whatever potential he might develop down the road, right now, Zhang Han's fastball was unlikely to pose a serious threat to the Yakushi lineup.
Mishima was already visibly itching to swing.
Zhang Han took in Mishima, then glanced at Akiba on Second Base.
He wasn't missing what was happening.
Even without a word from Coach Kataoka, he had already figured it out. Yakushi had come prepared.
There was no other explanation for how thoroughly they had been suppressing him.
Time to stop holding back.
He caught Miyuki's eye.
Miyuki's chest tightened.
It was a real risk.
But they were backed into a corner. There didn't seem to be another option.
Then let it go.
"Be careful with yourself. If anything feels wrong, stop immediately."
Zhang Han met his gaze.
Don't worry.
"I know my own body. I won't push through an injury and pretend otherwise."
When Zhang Han prepared for his next pitch, the motion was larger than anything before.
He took an extra half-step back.
In the stands, Nitta, who was watching everything through the camera feed, felt his chest tighten.
"Those pitch speeds from the last few throws, were they all recorded?"
"All of them."
"First pitch, 145 kilometers. Second pitch, 146.5. Third pitch, 147.5."
He hadn't thrown many, but each pitch had ticked slightly higher than the one before.
Nitta frowned.
Zhang Han's condition looked fine. His speed was already approaching 150 kilometers. So why had he been getting hit?
Were those Yakushi first-years really that capable?
It was difficult to believe.
During his time with the Seido High School Baseball Team, he had watched Zhang Han do things that seemed impossible. He had started to think Zhang Han could do anything.
Had he been wrong?
Just as he was turning this over, the confrontation on the field changed.
Without any warning, Zhang Han released his first pitch to Mishima.
His stride was longer than before. His leg lifted higher. His entire body moved as a single unit, rotating through the delivery.
As the rotation drove through, his arm came over like a spoke on a wheel, accelerating through the release.
He wasn't protecting anything now.
"Whoosh!"
The moment the ball left his hand, the sound told the story.
In almost no time at all, the baseball cut through the air and slammed into Miyuki's glove.
"Thwack!"
Silence fell across the stadium.
Everyone stared at the figure on the pitcher's mound.
Was this the same pitcher who had just been getting hit?
Mishima, who had been barely able to contain his eagerness to swing, stood with his mouth open.
He stared at Zhang Han, a single thought running through his mind.
How could it be that fast?
Yes. How could it be that fast?
In the stands, Nitta shook off all his earlier uncertainty.
He turned to his assistant with barely contained urgency.
"The speed on that pitch?"
His assistant looked at the number on the monitor, and for a moment didn't answer. He turned to look at Zhang Han on the pitcher's mound instead.
That young man wasn't particularly large. He didn't look imposing. How was a body like that hiding that kind of force?
"154.5 kilometers."
"That's good, that's very good."
Nitta clapped his hands.
His assistant resisted the urge to say something.
His producer had no real idea what that number meant.
Verified pitching records from regional tournaments were incomplete due to equipment limitations in older eras. The truly reliable records came from Koshien, supplemented by more recent regional data as technology improved.
Cross-referencing all of it, every pitcher who had ever broken 150 kilometers had been specifically documented.
Zhang Han's pitch wasn't in the top three, but it was unquestionably in the top ten.
In over a hundred years of Koshien history, the number of pitchers who had thrown faster than this could be counted on both hands.
That alone, without any other achievement, was enough to make a name nationwide.
And today's game was being broadcast live.
The commentator's voice had changed quality.
"154.5 kilometers. Zhang Han has broken the Spring Tournament's highest recorded pitch speed."
Not a surprising result. In over a hundred years of Koshien history, a Spring Tournament record was well within reach.
"What does that actually mean?"
Nitta, still finding his feet as a baseball fan, turned to his assistant.
"It means that at this stage, no pitcher in the tournament has thrown faster than him."
The assistant was still processing it himself.
But something didn't add up. Everyone kept saying the Seido High School Baseball Team lacked a reliable pitching ace. With Zhang Han right there, why hadn't they used him?
What could be more valuable than developing him?
The live audience and reporters were reacting similarly.
And Mishima's eyes at the plate were wide open.
How was that possible?
154.5.
That was a completely different tier from everything Zhang Han had thrown before. The Yakushi players had never faced a pitch at this speed. Even with some preparation, actually making contact with something moving this fast was a different problem entirely.
Except for Raichi and possibly the other two, the rest of the Yakushi lineup, regardless of how many days they had trained against the machine, would struggle with this.
Five or six kilometers might not sound like much.
But at this level, five or six kilometers was the difference between two tiers. The gap in reaction time was just large enough that many batters simply couldn't respond in time.
Even in professional baseball, even in the Major Leagues, pitchers regularly got strikeouts at these speeds.
What could Mishima do?
He watched the pitches come faster and faster, and could only stand there as they blew past him.
Even when he managed to start his swing, he couldn't reach the ball.
"Strike!"
"Strike!!"
"Strikeout!!!"
After the Homerun and the double, Zhang Han had finally recorded an out.
No one was focused on the context anymore.
They had just watched something extraordinary, and watching it live had made it even more so.
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