Diamond No Ace: The Strongest Hitter

Chapter 82: Play With Me Seriously!

"Smack!"

"Hey! Helmet!" Wakana tapped Sendo on the head with her helmet.

"Ow! Why is she mad? I'm not even Sawamura! Seriously, I'll never understand girls," Sendo grumbled internally, rubbing his head.

"Hey, Sendo! That amazing throw earlier—how did you come up with that?" Sawamura, taking advantage of the downtime as batters switched, walked over and asked. He couldn't stop thinking about how Sendo had suddenly changed the play.

"Oh, that?"

"Hmm... You remember the second-base runner's position, right?"

"She was pretty far off the base, right?"

"Exactly! And second base is directly behind the pitcher's mound. With her that far off, the batter being a right-handed hitter, and me being a left-handed thrower—get it now?"

"I have no idea what that means!"

Sigh.

"Of course you don't get it. Listen carefully. Home plate, the pitcher's mound, and second base are all in a straight line."

"The second-base runner, after taking a lead, was on my left side. The right-handed batter was also on my left side. And since I'm a left-handed thrower, all my movements on the left side were completely obscured by the batter!"

"The batter could only rely on their teammates' warnings to figure out my moves. But with the distance between them, as long as I kept my actions subtle, by the time they realized what was happening, it was already too late.'

"As for the runner, when they saw me throwing a pickoff to second base, the ball had already flown past. No matter how fast they are, they can't outrun my throw."

"So that's it! You came up with all that based on such tiny details? Wow! You're incredible, Sendo!"

"Well, baseball games are often decided up here," Sendo said, pointing to his temple.

"Whether we're rookies or unrefined players, at this level, as long as the gap isn't massive, you can win with your mind."

"Oh, I see!" Sawamura made a dramatic "eureka" gesture with his hands, then turned around and walked away without hesitation—because he didn't understand a word.

"…" Sendo watched him go, shook his head, and walked to the on-deck circle as the game resumed.

...

"Pop!"

"Strike!"

"Pop!"

"Ball!"

"Ball!"

"Pop!"

"Out!"

Even during their second turn in the lineup, Kondou was eliminated after only four pitches. The catcher noticed he couldn't resist swinging at bad pitches and decisively forced the battle into the strike zone.

...

"Alright, it's my turn!" Sendo stood up, holding his bat in the middle with one hand in a flashy posture. His calm gaze added a faint sense of intimidation.

"Hurray! Hurray! Sendo!" Sawamura shouted enthusiastically, raising a hand and dramatically emphasizing the last "Sendo."

"Seriously?" Sendo glanced back at Sawamura's antics and chuckled softly.

He loosened his grip, letting the bat slide down his hand, then caught the handle with two fingers. With a flick of his wrist, he rested the bat on his shoulder and walked to the batter's box.

Smoothing the dirt beneath his feet, Sendo looked toward the pitcher's mound at Kozawa.

"Interesting. Alright, I'll play along with you a little, miss."

"What are you staring at, kid? Don't think I forgot how you underestimated me earlier! I hold grudges, you know!" Ozawa growled, glaring at Sendo.

Why is she glaring at me? Did I do something to her? No idea!

But no matter what, I'll take responsibility for this.

I'll play with you until the end.

So, come on—play with me seriously!

Just kidding! But if you're glaring at me, it means you're losing your composure, right? I can think of it that way, can't I? Sendo muttered to himself, his mischievous thoughts spiraling further into absurdity.

Target the outside corners. If the count turns unfavorable, go for a walk. That's how this batter should be handled. But Ozawa won't agree to that, will she?

'I'll suppress him!' Those were her exact words, weren't they?

The catcher decided to play it safe, aiming for the edges of the strike zone to build a favorable count before finishing off.

"Pop!"

"Strike!"

The catcher smirked. "Even you can't swing at that, right? A pitch like this!"

However, what she didn't know was that Sendo's ability to judge balls and strikes was nearly non-existent.

To him, any ball he could hit was a good pitch—simple as that.

"If it's hittable, it's a good pitch." That was Sendo's philosophy, and it was flawless in his mind.

Sendo was merely using the first pitch to observe the opponent's strategy.

"A strike, huh? So it's a duel? That's perfect! You really do love me, don't you?" Sendo's thoughts started drifting into his peculiar imagination again, even as he processed the umpire's call.

"Next, it's here!"

"Whoosh!"

"Clang!"

"Foul!"

"He swung at that? That was clearly a ball! What's with this guy?" The catcher was completely baffled by Sendo's approach.

"Are you underestimating me? Are you looking down on me again? You idiot!

Fine, you'll pay for that!" Ozawa seethed with frustration, her teeth clenched tightly.

"Let's settle this!" Both Ozawa and the catcher thought the same thing as they prepared for the next pitch.

"Hmm? A sinker?"

"Crack!"

"Foul!"

"Just fouling off pitches makes this a hundred times easier!" Sendo thought to himself.

Meanwhile, the Sakura Girls's pitcher and catcher stared at him in shock, their expressions filled with disbelief. Their confidence was visibly shaken.

"He hit it? He actually hit the sinker? Even if it wasn't a clean hit, he still made contact!" Ozawa's mind was racing, unable to calm down.

If she knew that Sendo was deliberately timing his swings just to foul off the sinker, she might have lost her mind.

Truthfully, even if Sendo were to connect with the pitch properly, his chances of getting a clean hit were still low. The sinker's bizarre trajectory was simply too difficult to handle—almost like a magic pitch.

"Since Ozawa mastered the sinker, this is the first time anyone has made contact," Coach Mitani mused, stroking his chin.

"It scared me half to death when the bat hit the ball! Honestly, I was ready to walk him."

"Never mind. Let's disrupt his sense of timing with other pitches first, and then finish him off with the sinker."

"After all, just because he made contact doesn't mean the pitch won't work against him. But we can't use it too often, or he might actually hit it. Girls' pitching speed will never match boys', and if I had a high-speed fastball, I wouldn't even need to worry about him."

The catcher, still rattled, considered signaling for an intentional walk.

But when she saw the renewed determination in Ozawa's eyes, she ultimately abandoned the idea.

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