Chapter 191: The Arrogant Sengoku Masato

"Top of the second inning. Yakushi High School is up to bat. Fifth batter, center fielder, Sanada!"

Coach Todoroki Raizo had put tremendous thought into his lineup for this crucial game. To maximize Yakushi's offensive firepower, he made the bold decision to start Sanada Shunpei and even placed his prized player in the cleanup role despite batting fifth.

It was a decision that reflected Todoroki's complete faith in Sanada's hitting ability.

And as expected, Sanada didn't disappoint.

Facing the red-hot Sakuraba, Sanada showed no hesitation. The moment a blazing fastball darted toward the inside corner, he unleashed a full-powered swing.

Crack!

The baseball shot past Kaidou High School's ironclad middle infield and rolled into the outfield.

Sanada safely reached second base with a stand-up double.

It was the perfect way to ignite Yakushi's offense in the second inning while dealing another heavy blow to Kaidou.

Next up was Akaishi Osamu.

Determined to capitalize on the opportunity, Akaishi aggressively looked for a hit.

Unfortunately, Sato Toshiya saw right through his intentions.

Calling for a pitch designed to bait the swing, Sato successfully induced weak contact and recorded the out. Had Sanada not reacted quickly enough, Kaidou might have doubled him off second as well.

One out, runner on second.

Yakushi still had a chance to add to its lead.

The next batter, Yamauchi Yutaka, learned from Akaishi's mistake. Rather than swinging for the fences, he calmly laid down a sacrifice bunt.

Two outs.

Runner on third.

Although Kobayashi Keisuke fought hard in his at-bat, he ultimately couldn't avoid being retired.

Yakushi's scoring threat came to an end.

"Bottom of the second inning! Kaidou High School's turn to bat. Fourth batter, first baseman, Sengoku-kun!"

Amid the deafening cheers that seemed capable of shaking the stadium itself, Sengoku Masato casually picked up his bat with one hand, rested it across his broad shoulder, and strode toward the batter's box.

He radiated overwhelming confidence, his every step brimming with arrogance.

Standing in the batter's box, Sengoku fixed his gaze on Kitamura Kou atop the pitcher's mound.

The pitcher was overflowing with fighting spirit.

In response, the corners of Sengoku's lips slowly curled into a savage grin, one that sent an inexplicable chill through everyone who saw it.

Then, glancing toward Akaishi Osamu behind home plate, he sneered,

"Hey, your pitcher has a pretty good presence. Just don't wet your pants after I crush him."

He chuckled before continuing mockingly,

"Of course... that's assuming you're not so scared that you intentionally walk me instead."

"Hahaha..."

After finishing his taunt, Sengoku Masato threw back his head and burst into loud laughter. His booming voice echoed throughout the stadium, loud enough for even Kitamura Kou on the pitcher's mound to hear every word.

Whether it had been intentional or not, there was no denying the effect of his provocation.

His words were like a lit fuse, instantly igniting the fury burning within both Kitamura Kou and Akaishi Osamu.

Akaishi's eyes blazed with anger, as though they could burn Sengoku where he stood. Snorting coldly, he shot back,

"Hmph! I'll return those words to you, Senpai. I hope you're the one who doesn't wet his pants."

On the mound, Kitamura narrowed his eyes, a cold glint flashing within them.

"Hmph! Your provocation is pretty low-class, but I'll give you exactly what you want." His voice turned icy. "Just make sure your courage is as big as your mouth. Otherwise... you'll be a huge disappointment."

The moment he finished speaking, the already overwhelming pressure surrounding him intensified.

It was so oppressive that even the air around the mound seemed to tremble.

Sengoku never took his eyes off Kitamura, carefully observing every subtle change in his expression.

Deep within his dark eyes, a barely noticeable flicker of satisfaction appeared.

Heh... just as I thought.

He's still just a green first-year.

He fell for it that easily.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of Sengoku's lips, as though everything was unfolding exactly according to plan.

"Don't go crying after this, you arrogant bastard!"

The instant the words left Kitamura's mouth—

Whoosh!!

The first pitch exploded from his fingertips.

BOOM!!

The baseball roared through the air like a furious beast unleashed from its cage, charging straight toward Sengoku's head.

Its terrifying speed produced a piercing whistle, as if it intended to tear apart everything in its path.

Now that's some terrifying pressure, Sengoku thought calmly.

Against anyone else, this pitch alone would probably force them to back away. Unfortunately for you... you're facing me.

Go on.

Lose yourself in that anger.

Then slowly fall apart.

Without flinching, Sengoku remained perfectly still as the ball screamed toward his face.

THUD!!

"Ball!"

The baseball missed Sengoku's nose by mere centimeters before crashing violently into Akaishi's mitt.

"Whew... that was scary."

Although Sengoku's face remained composed, his heart was anything but calm.

Even knowing there's a good chance it won't hit me, resisting the instinct to flinch isn't easy.

Besides... if this brat completely loses control because of his anger and accidentally drills me, that'd be a disaster.

But this is my final high school tournament.

I won't let my last chance to win a championship slip away.

With that thought, Sengoku deliberately edged even closer to the strike zone.

His stance became noticeably more aggressive.

A faint, mocking smile lingered on his lips as his eyes challenged Kitamura without a single word.

Come on, kid.

If you've got the guts... keep throwing inside.

It was obvious what Sengoku was trying to do.

He wanted to keep provoking Kitamura, feeding his anger until the young pitcher completely lost his composure.

Heh... how childish.

A trace of disdain flashed through Kitamura's eyes.

But in the next instant, it disappeared beneath the same furious expression.

BOOM!!

The second pitch erupted from his hand.

Once again, the baseball charged forward like a raging beast, roaring toward Sengoku's head.

This pitch, however, carried an incredibly deceptive trajectory.

It rode the razor-thin line between a strike and a ball.

Whether it stayed in the zone or not would depend entirely on the home plate umpire's judgment.

For any batter, it was an extremely uncomfortable pitch.

For someone like Sengoku, who was crowding the plate, it was even worse.

Swing, and he would struggle to make solid contact.

Take it, and there was a very real chance it would be called a strike.

Against Kitamura's blistering fastball, which exceeded 150 km/h, even the slightest hesitation was fatal.

By the time Sengoku made his decision—

THUD!!

The baseball had already buried itself in Akaishi Osamu's glove.

Now...

Everything depended on the home plate umpire's call.