Chapter 97: The Stranger

“Sorry, I was too careless,” the coach bowed deeply to the principal.

“This isn’t the time for jokes. They’re leading by one point, and we’ve already finished five innings.”

“Don’t worry, Principal. Now that we’ve gotten a clearer picture of their strength, their key players are their second baseman, center fielder, and their pitcher, who is even faster than we anticipated. With this information, we’ll perform at our expected level,” the coach said confidently.

“I hope you don’t disappoint me,” the principal coughed and replied.

Back in the dugout, Coach Tanimori told Masato, “You should warm up a bit. After this inning, you’ll be up.”

“Thank you, Coach.” Masato smiled.

Looking at the scoreboard, Coach Tanimori felt a bit regretful. They had indeed underestimated the team. If he had known Asakura would be such a challenge, he should have started the regular players from the beginning instead of using this practice match as a chance for the backup players to get experience. But with Masato, their ace pitcher, on the mound, things should be fine.

Normally, players couldn’t be substituted during the game unless someone was injured. So, by the time the fifth inning was almost over, the pitcher, who had thrown almost five full innings, “accidentally” twisted his ankle.

When Fukuoka Masato stepped onto the field in his clean and neat uniform to replace him, many girls in the stands stood up and screamed excitedly.

“Does he owe them a lot of money or something?” Masashi smiled and asked.

“You fool,” Kazumi shot him a cold look.

“I didn’t expect even Masato to be up. This is getting interesting.”

“I thought this would be a one-sided game, but it turns out that new team is playing pretty well.”

“I feel the same way,” several spectators were discussing among themselves.

Though Fukuoka Masato only threw three pitches, the inning ended quickly. However, after his turn, Masashi and the others understood why the girls were so excited.

He was handsome, a good pitcher, and from a physical standpoint, he seemed even stronger than Rumi. This was simply due to the differences in male and female natural attributes.

In the top of the sixth inning, with Fukuoka Masato’s presence, Kawaki seemed to be reinvigorated. They nearly had two hits, both close calls.

This was the true strength of the Kawaki baseball team. Even though some of the players were backups, their overall coordination was still close to that of the regulars.

“Good pitch, batter is out!”

After striking out the third batter, Rumi visibly felt her arm growing heavier.

The fourth batter was Fukuoka Masato. Seeing him, Rumi felt an invisible pressure. From the manager’s notes, she knew that Fukuoka Masato was an all-around player. Not only was he a great pitcher, but he was also an excellent hitter, and his running speed was well-known.

“Let’s see how you swing at this.” Rumi gritted her teeth and quickly threw the ball.

“Thwack!” The ball was hit hard and slammed into the wire fence.

“Foul ball,” the umpire called loudly.

Rumi sighed with relief inside. That was close.

It was like facing a strong opponent in a sword duel; Rumi suddenly really wanted to defeat him.

Without thinking, she threw another fastball his way…

“I didn’t expect even Masato to miss a swing. Looks like that pitcher is really something,” one of the team members sitting next to the female manager commented after their ace pitcher was struck out.

“The pitcher’s arm is a consumable. At his current pace, I doubt he’ll make it to the final inning,” another player remarked.

As he had predicted, even the female manager could tell that the pitcher’s throwing speed had noticeably slowed down.

Just when the game was at its most intense, something unexpected happened.

“Coach, please let me play. I’m fine,” Yamaguchi, the center fielder from Asakura, pleaded to the bearded coach, his eye wrapped in a bandage.

“Sit down. I will not let you play again,” the coach shouted.

“What should we do now? Should we pick someone from the backup players to replace Yamaguchi?” the female manager asked.

“Let me think,” the bearded coach said before walking out of the room.

Nobody expected things to turn out this way. Yamaguchi had collided with one of their players while attempting to steal a base. Luckily, it wasn’t his eye that was injured, or he might have lost his sight. The score was now 1-2, with Kawaki leading by one point. However, if Yamaguchi could play, they should be able to catch up since the opposing team had at least half of its players as backups.

In his mind, he was leaning toward halting the game entirely. After over a year of grueling training, only about a dozen players had managed to stick with the team without quitting. Among them, a few third-year students couldn’t even participate in this practice match due to exams. Without the unexpected discovery of Rumi as a pitcher, they might not have been able to compete at all.

The remaining substitute players were mostly freshmen with little to no proper training. Their abilities were only marginally better than the average person. He really didn’t want to send them out and embarrass the team.

However, it would be hard to justify suspending the game just because one player was injured. Fine, they’d see it through to the end and hope the loss wouldn’t be too humiliating.

Having made up his mind, the coach turned to head back, only to notice someone silently standing behind him.

“Who are you?” Startled, the bearded coach stepped back. When had this person arrived?

“Looks like you’re in a bit of trouble,” said a voice from beneath the mask—one that was difficult to place as either that of a man or a boy.

“What do you want?” The coach, already frustrated, didn’t have the patience to deal with this stranger.

“I heard one of your players is injured. How about letting me take their place in the game?” The masked person got straight to the point.

“I’m not letting an unknown individual participate in the match,” the coach replied with a frown.

“Is that so?” The stranger walked over to the bat rack, picked up a bat, and held it in both hands.

“What are you doing?” The coach instinctively stepped back, keeping his eyes on the stranger.

Without saying a word, the person assumed a batting stance.

“Whoosh!” They swung the bat through the air.

The sharp sound of the swing made the coach’s heart skip a beat.

“Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh!” The stranger swung the bat several more times in succession.

After finishing, they returned the bat to the rack and started walking away.

“Hey, wait a minute,” the coach called out, rushing to block their path.

“What is it?” This time, it was the stranger who asked the question.

“Tell me, what’s your batting average?” the coach asked urgently.

“To be honest, I rarely play baseball. But I can tell you this: if I want to, I can hit a bullet out of the air. Whether you believe me or not is your problem.” With that, the stranger turned to leave again.

“Fine, I’ll let you play,” the coach decided on the spot.

“Thank you,” the stranger replied calmly.

“Wait, why are you wearing a mask?” Although he had agreed, the coach still found this person’s appearance highly suspicious.

“Because I have a cold. Cough…” To emphasize the point, the stranger let out a string of coughs.

The coach watched the odd figure leave, feeling uneasy. I hope this decision doesn’t come back to haunt me, he thought anxiously.