Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute

After the interview, Hoshino Ai and Ichika didn't linger.

They knew Takashi had a match the next day.

The fact that he made time for their interview was already more than they could ask for.

After all, a lot of people were dying to interview Takashi—and none could even get near him.

If anyone dared treat him like a regular celebrity and barge in…

They'd be facing the legal wrath of the Aoba Legal Team + Konoe Family Lawyers + Ryuju Family Lawyers + Kashiwagi Family Lawyers.

Forget being reporters—even if Kaguya herself showed up, her head would still get turned into mush.

After sending off Hoshino Ai and Ichika, Takashi figured, since he was already here, he might as well get in some pitching practice.

But this time, he used his left hand.

He was right-handed, and without activating his Popeye skill, his pitch wasn't that fast—only 151 km/h.

The slowest he'd thrown since updating his stamina stats.

Of course, that was only by his standards.

For most people, this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Amatani Kensuke didn't interfere. He continued training the players.

This year felt like their best shot yet at Koshien.

The strongest pitcher in Koshien history. Aoba's strongest batting lineup.

This was the year. Their best chance. And maybe… their last.

After a few more pitches, Takashi started getting bored—just in time for a call from Suzuki Ichiro, saying he had arrived in Nishinomiya and asking if he was free to meet.

Takashi had no plans, so he agreed.

He had a few questions he wanted to ask him anyway.

…

Half an hour later, outside the Royal Okura Hotel.

"Mr. Takashi, welcome to the Royal Okura. Mr. Suzuki has been waiting a while for you."

As soon as Takashi appeared, a hotel staff member waiting by the door stepped up to greet him. It was clear he had been waiting for Takashi specifically.

"Please, come with me."

"Thanks for the trouble."

Following the staff member inside, Takashi stepped onto a plush carpet that spread across the entire space. 

Unlike cheap hotel carpets, this one sank gently underfoot like snow with every step.

Everyone in the lobby exudes elegance, and there were occasional foreigners mingling among the guests.

At the center of the lobby stood a stage.

Under the spotlight, a white woman was playing a jazz piano piece.

Passing through heavy wooden double doors, a male server carrying a tray even gave Takashi a slight bow in greeting.

The staff member led Takashi to a bar seat by the full-length glass windows. That's where he saw Suzuki Ichiro.

"There you are."

Suzuki Ichiro was now dressed in a gray suit.

Takashi immediately recognized it as one from Zegna, a top-tier Italian luxury suit brand.

It was in the same league as Armani, which was endorsed by Guyu-kun.

Don't ask him how he knew.

His sister Shizuka had gifted him one before.

"Yeah."

Takashi responded casually and shifted his gaze beside Suzuki Ichiro.

Seated beside him were a man and a woman.

The woman looked to be in her early thirties. With makeup and a business suit, she gave off the vibe of a capable career woman.

The man was in his early fifties, his hair showing traces of gray. He had a refined, scholarly appearance and wore glasses.

"Go ahead and have a seat."

Suzuki gestured invitingly.

A server pulled out the chair for him, and Takashi sat down without hesitation.

Immediately, iced water and a towel were handed to him, along with a leather-bound menu.

"Order anything you want—it's on me."

Seeing Suzuki Ichiro confidently acting like he was footing the whole bill, Takashi snapped the menu shut.

"Then I'll have everything on the menu."

Suzuki laughed and cursed, "You really don't hold back, do you?"

Then he told the server, "Just do what he said—bring everything."

Pro baseball players generally earned a lot, and Suzuki Ichiro had played in the MLB.

At his level, money was just a number.

"Understood."

The server departed.

"Let me introduce you. This is Rina Tomizawa, from the Orix Buffaloes operations department."

Suzuki first introduced the woman, then the older man beside her. "And this is Manabu Takezoe, General Manager of the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters."

As Takashi blew gently on his tea, he already had a good idea why Suzuki had brought him here.

The Orix Buffaloes were the team Suzuki had played for when he was in Japan.

And Otani Shohei played for the Fighters. The surname Takezoe also happened to be the same as the owner of Nippon Ham Corporation.

Rina Tomizawa smiled and extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Takashi-kun."

Manabu Takezoe also extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Takashi-kun. You're even more handsome in person than on TV!"

Takashi looked at their outstretched hands, then glanced at Suzuki Ichiro.

Suzuki clearly didn't intend to get involved. He was watching the symphony performance on stage.

After a moment's thought, Takashi raised his teacup and smiled. "I injured my hand pitching recently. How about we toast instead?"

Tomizawa and Takezoe were momentarily surprised, but both smiled, lowered their hands, and lightly clinked teacups with him.

"So, what brings you here?"

Takashi took a sip of tea and asked.

"We're sorry to disturb you out of the blue, but we wanted to ask if you have any intention of going pro."

Rina Tomizawa took the lead in speaking.

Takezoe quietly drank his tea without interrupting.

"I've watched your games, Takashi-kun. You're by far the most promising player in Koshien history. No contest."

"Our team, the Orix Buffaloes, would love to sign you."

"If you're open to joining the pros, we'd like you to consider us first. In terms of signing bonus, performance incentives, and salary, this is the best offer I could negotiate for you."

Tomizawa pulled out a contract and flipped straight to the last page, handing it to Takashi.

He glanced down.

Even with his composure, his heart skipped a beat at the numbers.

He couldn't help it—it was just too much.

Signing bonus: 100 million yen.

Incentive bonus: 50 million yen.

Annual salary: 800 million yen.

Takashi had known that professional baseball in Japan paid well, but no one told him it paid this well.

With just one signature, he could achieve not just financial freedom—he'd leap social classes altogether.

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