"Strike!"
"Batter out!"
Kuramochi gritted his teeth and carried his bat off the field. As he passed Shirazu, he said, "Watch a few more pitches and get used to them before you swing."
Shirazu's face was equally grave. Kuramochi had swung three times in a row without even touching the ball—something Shirazu had not seen in a long time.
It was not as if the team had no pitchers who could throw over 150 km/h. Everyone had faced Furuya's pitches during team practice.
But even at speeds above 150, Furuya's pitching was comparatively crude—or rather, brutal.
Hongo of Kyoma University was different. His pitches combined ferocity with precision. Though he threw over 150 km/h, he could still place the ball accurately around the edges. Of course, his control was not as monstrously precise as Kōshū's.
Just imagine it: a pitch over 150 km/h, coming right at the edge of the zone.
Even Seido's upperclassmen had found that kind of pitching difficult to deal with during Summer Koshien.
Shirazu tightened his grip on the bat and stared at the dark-skinned pitcher across from him, facing those overwhelmingly powerful pitches head-on.
Is the next one a fastball?
No, it was that Fast Forkball!
Paired with his vicious fastball, that forkball was especially lethal.
Its early trajectory almost perfectly overlapped with the fastball's. Just as the batter swung, it suddenly dropped from chest height straight to the ground.
Anyone who chased that pitch ended up swinging and missing.
They look serious, but it's useless. No matter how many Seido sends up, none of them can hit my pitches! On the Pitcher's Mound, Hongo watched the opposing batter whiff badly and thought with some satisfaction, This way, I can truly beat you! Fair and square!
At the sight of that demon-like forkball, Kōshū's hand