Diamond no Ace: My Sharingan

After two innings, the scoreboard showed a narrow but significant lead—1–0 in favor of Seidou.

For Inashiro Industrial, that was unacceptable.

This wasn't just another match. It was a long-anticipated showdown against their fiercest rivals, Seidou High School. While Seidou had suffered poor luck in recent years and missed out on Koshien, their strength was undeniable.

Inashiro had never underestimated them.

And this year's Seidou team? They were monsters in their own right—having ended most of their games early with dominant performances.

So today, Inashiro had gone all-in. They had treated this semifinal as the true final.

But here they were—behind on the scoreboard.

And worse, they had no answer for the rookie pitcher standing on the mound: Zhou Hao.

Just days ago, many Inashiro players scoffed at him.

Even Narumiya Mei, their own prodigy, had been dismissive.

But now?

Now, not one of them dared speak ill of Zhou Hao.

It wasn't hype. It wasn't overstatement.

He was a monster.

No other word felt accurate enough.

He may have looked composed, even handsome—but underneath that calm exterior, he was terrifying.

"First, hold this inning together. Don't let emotions get to you!"

"That guy's throwing everything he's got—I refuse to believe he can keep it up the whole game."

Narumiya Mei tried to rally his teammates.

A senior looked at him skeptically.

"Didn't you say this kid had a weakness?"

Mei grimaced.

He did say that. But what could he do now?

When he watched Zhou Hao pitch in the previous round, his Spiral Ball didn't look anywhere near this hard to deal with.

But today... that pitch felt unhittable.

Back then, he believed Zhou Hao wouldn't last against a strong team like Inashiro.

But clearly, he'd underestimated the freshman.

Top of the third inning—Seidou back on offense.

The eighth batter stepped into the box: Isashiki Jun, a second-year with a thick mustache and a reputation for aggressive swings.

Riding the wave of momentum from Zhou Hao's strikeout spree, Isashiki was fired up.

Even with the slim lead, Seidou was pressuring Inashiro at every turn.

"I've gotta keep the heat on. No way we let a freshman carry this whole game!"

As soon as the pitch came in, Isashiki unleashed.

"Ping!"

He connected—but the ball flew straight up.

A high pop-up.

The second baseman from Inashiro settled beneath it easily.

"Pop!"

"Out!"

Next up: the ninth batter.

He swung with everything he had—desperately trying to extend the inning.

But the hit was cleanly fielded in the outfield.

"Pop!"

"Out!"

Back in Seidou's dugout:

"They've read our timing perfectly..."

"As expected of Azuma!"

"Inashiro's always got an elite Ace."

Miyuki couldn't help but comment.

"So jealous... Inashiro's pitcher is like a machine. Whatever the catcher asks for, he delivers."

Yoshida glared at him.

"Are you talking about me?"

Miyuki flashed a grin.

"No no, senpai. You're amazing too—seriously!"

Of course, his words dripped with sarcasm.

Yoshida's face turned red with frustration.

"Just wait, I'm gonna shut you up one of these days!"

Miyuki didn't seem worried at all.

After all, this was the seniors' final tournament. Once they were gone, Miyuki would take over.

He had time on his side.

Now came the leadoff hitter, Matsumoto.

A solid, reliable batter.

He timed his swing well and drove the ball sharply.

"Ping!"

Inashiro's shortstop dove for it—snagged it mid-air, but couldn't immediately transfer the ball.

Matsumoto raced down the line, legs pumping.

It would be close.

The shortstop scrambled up and launched a fast throw to first.

"Pop!"

"Out!"

Just in time.

Three outs.

Bottom of the third inning—Inashiro back at the plate.

Their seventh batter stepped in.

He stared down Zhou Hao from the box.

"You must be tired by now, right?"

But Zhou Hao didn't flinch.

He wound up—and unleashed another laser.

"Whoosh!"

"Smack!"

"Strike!"

The batter froze.

Another pitch.

Then another.

Three strikes.

Strikeout.

Eighth batter—same fate.

Ninth batter? Didn't even swing once.

They all just stood there.

Three straight Spiral Balls each.

Nine pitches.

Three more strikeouts.

"Eight consecutive strikeouts!"

"A new record!"

Zhou Hao was no longer just impressing the crowd.

He was making history.

The atmosphere around the stadium shifted.

Seidou's fans were electric. Inashiro's bench? Silent.

They had studied him. Trained for him.

But Zhou Hao had rewritten every scouting report.

And the game was far from over.

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