Zhang Han had just hit a go-ahead single.
Only a few minutes later, it was Ichidai Third High School's turn to bat.
Omae—who had been completely suppressed earlier and thoroughly outmaneuvered by Miyuki—suddenly stepped up at the most critical moment. With a massive long hit, he sent both runners on base charging back to home plate, directly bringing in two runs for his team.
Seido's lead, which had lasted only a few short minutes, vanished in an instant.
Ichidai Third High School overtook them.
The score flipped to 4–3, leaving the Seido High School Baseball Team trailing by one run.
In the stands, the neutral fans who had been optimistic about Seido moments earlier fell into silence. Their excitement drained away, replaced by disappointment and helpless sighs.
Was it still not enough?
They couldn't help but feel sorry for Seido's players.
Judging purely by performance, Seido High School Baseball Team had played exceptionally well today. Many spectators believed that the level of this match had already surpassed that of Koshien—at the very least, it exceeded the standard of ordinary Koshien games.
Both teams were absolutely worthy of stepping onto that grand stage.
But this was West Tokyo. A battlefield filled with powerhouses. In the end, only one team could represent West Tokyo at Koshien.
Everyone had originally favored Seido, but Ichidai Third High School's foundation seemed deeper. Especially as the game moved into its later stages, Ichidai San's players displayed terrifying stability and resilience.
"That Omae is really something."
"After Kameshima, he'll probably become Ichidai San's next leader."
"Harada of Inashiro, Omae of Ichidai San, Yuuki of Seido… Powerhouse teams are never short on monsters like these. And among second-years, even though Yuuki rose quickly and his evaluation surpassed Harada Masakatsu, if we're talking about the best right now, it's probably still Omae."
"Forget Harada. He hasn't even secured a starting uniform number yet. Yuuki and Omae are the real deal—they're already core batters."
On the field, the Seido players exchanged glances, still somewhat stunned. For a moment, none of them could fully process what had just happened.
Miyuki, crouched behind home plate, let out a bitter smile.
Hidezawa's pitch just now had been flawless—sharp location, perfect execution. And yet, it had still been smashed that far.
There was nothing left to say.
They could only acknowledge Omae's strength.
Ichidai Third High School, famous for its powerful batters and pitchers, truly lived up to its reputation. Even beyond their cleanup hitter Kameshima, there were still monsters lurking in the lineup.
"Don't worry about it," Miyuki said calmly. "That one was on me."
"Of course it was your fault," Hidezawa snapped without thinking. "Could it possibly be mine? My pitching was fine!"
Hidezawa's condition was on the verge of collapse. His stamina was nearly gone, and his thoughts were no longer clear. If he were rational, he wouldn't have said something so cutting.
These words were usually buried deep in his heart—never meant to be spoken out loud.
"Yes, it was my problem," Miyuki replied evenly. "But I still need you to cooperate. We're one out away."
"Too much talking," Hidezawa muttered. "Just hurry up and call the pitch."
Despite his irritation, Hidezawa dug deep.
While Kameshima was suppressing Seido on the mound, Hidezawa hadn't been idle either. He had done a commendable job containing Ichidai Third High School's offense. Until that moment, they hadn't scored many runs or landed many solid hits.
As a pitcher, Hidezawa had fulfilled his responsibility.
With Miyuki's guidance, he forced the final out, successfully completing Seido's defense in the seventh inning.
Though they had given up the lead and were temporarily behind, none of the Seido players were disheartened.
Unlike the spectators, Seido's players knew something important.
They still held the advantage.
Kameshima—the outwardly strong but inwardly fragile ace—had already thrown more than 130 pitches.
This was only the seventh inning. Even with sheer willpower pushing him forward, there was no way he could last until the very end.
So despite trailing on the scoreboard, Seido remained calm. Coach Kataoka's expression was stern as he issued his orders.
"No need to drag it out anymore," he said firmly. "Attack the moment you see an opening."
Kameshima had been ferocious in the previous inning, but in his last few pitches, the strain was obvious. If not for Ichidai San's excellent fielding support, the outcome might have already changed.
The Seido batters stepped up with ambition burning in their eyes.
In their minds, Kameshima was barely holding himself together.
Some of them even wondered why Ichidai Third High School hadn't replaced him yet. In this state, how could he possibly endure?
But Ichidai San's director made no such move.
So Seido could only do one thing—attack.
"Ping!"
Even when facing the Gyroball, Seido's batters showed no fear.
On one hand, Zhang Han's earlier hit had given the entire team a massive confidence boost. On the other, Kameshima's declining stamina made his pitches feel more hittable.
Subconsciously, they believed their chance had come.
Reality struck quickly.
The balls were hit—but none flew into the corners or gaps they had imagined. Without exception, every hit was intercepted cleanly by Ichidai San's fielders.
Miyuki was retired. Then Kou Shunmin followed.
The batting order turned back to the leadoff hitter—Seido's captain, Tanaka.
Two outs.
Bases empty.
This was not the scenario Seido had anticipated.
They had thought dealing with Kameshima would be easy at this stage.
After all, he wasn't known for his stamina. And with such explosive pitching, logic dictated he should have collapsed long ago.
At around 100 pitches, most had already assumed he was finished.
Yet Kameshima stubbornly endured for two more innings, even helping his team reclaim the lead.
He was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged, his legs heavy.
But he was still standing.
"I don't believe you're made of iron," Tanaka muttered under his breath.
He changed his strategy.
No more aiming for a big hit.
Instead, he focused on grinding the count down—foul ball after foul ball.
"129!"
"130!"
"135!"
"137!"
Finally, Kameshima delivered his one hundred thirty-seventh pitch.
Full count.
This pitch would decide everything.
Kameshima gathered what little strength he had left and threw.
"Ping!"
Tanaka swung, sending the ball soaring high into the air.
It descended slowly—only to drop neatly into Kameshima's glove on the pitcher's mound.
"Thwack!"
"Out!!"
138 pitches.
Kameshima, the absolute core of Ichidai Third High School, had held the seventh inning.
Ichidai San's fans leapt to their feet, cheers bursting from their throats—
Only to freeze.
Because the next moment, that round figure on the pitcher's mound swayed… and collapsed heavily onto the ground.
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