Diamond No Ace: Life As Sawamura Eijun

Chapter 387: Ugumori's Provocative Challenge

Furuya, don't rush—it's just one hit. You need to understand that the last swing happened because your pitch floated too high. Got it? Here, you need to calmly handle every pitch. If your goal is the future, don't let yourself get blocked here!

At home plate, Miyuki didn't call for a time-out. He simply gave Furuya a sharp look.

Standing on the mound, Furuya froze for a moment, took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down.

He realized it was just one hit—nothing that would change the game.

All he needed to do was pitch as usual, rely on his fastball to dominate, and use his breaking balls to finish them off. If he could retire the remaining batters, that would be enough.

As long as he didn't allow any runs, that would be enough.

A faint glint of determination appeared in Furuya's eyes.

"Second batter, right fielder, Matsuyama."

What happens when an enraged lion forces itself to stay calm?

That lion becomes the most dangerous beast of all.

The anger, hidden beneath a composed exterior, fuels an explosive display of power.

Whoosh.

Streaks of chilling light raced toward the plate, each pitch accompanied by a cracking sonic boom. The mounting pressure made Matsuyama's expression shift as he stepped into the batter's box. The sheer intensity—the overwhelming presence—was palpable.

Swish.

Clang!

Matsuyama swung with all his might, and the loud crack of bat meeting ball echoed in the air. Gritting his teeth, Matsuyama's muscles tensed under the strain. It was clear how much pressure he was under.

Whoosh.

Thud.

"Foul ball!"

His swing was completely overpowered, and without proper timing, the ball weakly veered foul past the third base line. The forceful pitching and relentless aura left Matsuyama struggling to keep up.

Whoosh.

Bang.

"Ball!"

Whoosh.

Clang.

"Foul!"

Whoosh.

Thud.

"Strike!"

"Batter out!"

After forcing a strikeout against Matsuyama with a display of sheer dominance, Furuya moved on to face Ugumori's third batter, Miyamoto.

Furuya's pitches became even fiercer. His first pitch, a blazing forkball, left Miyamoto swinging at air. He couldn't match its speed or movement, and his awkward swing almost sent him tumbling.

Furuya's next two fastballs, delivered with unrelenting force, forced fouls. With two strikes against the batter, the duel continued.

A fastball on the outside low corner—surpassing 150 km/h—marked Furuya's fierce assault. With the leadoff batter on base, he maintained an imposing stance, retiring Ugumori's second and third hitters in quick succession.

Furuya had once again seized control of the game's pace. He fully showcased his unique style, commanding the admiration of the crowd.

Some even felt that Furuya might now have the qualifications to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Eijun.

The presence and poise of a dominant power pitcher were on full display.

"Your control's really improving, Furuya."

"Yeah, a blazing 150 km/h heater, increasingly accurate command, and a sharp forkball—not to mention, he's no slouch as a batter either. A player like that is born to be an ace."

"Completely shut down Ugumori's lineup."

"Even after allowing the leadoff hitter on base, he stayed calm."

"What started as no outs and a runner on first has turned into two outs already. Looks like Furuya's on track to shut down this inning perfectly."

"Too bad he's at Seidou."

"Yeah, with Sawamura there, it's almost impossible for Furuya to claim the ace position."

"I wouldn't say that. I think Furuya has what it takes to challenge Sawamura now."

"Let's be real. His current success is against Ugumori. If he can perform like this against powerhouse teams like Inashiro Industrial, Teito, or Ichidaisan, then we'll talk."

"Give him some slack—he's just a first-year."

"Either way, Furuya isn't at Sawamura's level yet."

Without question, Furuya's performance on the mound had won over many fans.

Some even argued that the gap between Furuya and Eijun was negligible now. As the spectators debated Furuya's future potential, one thought united them: the only suspense remaining was how quickly Seidou would score and end the game.

With Eijun set to take the stage later, and Furuya delivering such a stellar showing, few believed Ugumori had any chance left.

However, this assumption rested on not underestimating Ugumori's potential for a sudden surge.

"Cleanup hitter, pitcher, Umemiya-kun."

Oh, they thought the golden pitcher-catcher duo was Seidou's only threat.

But no one expected this number 11 rookie to be this skilled.

From the start until now, he's completely dominated us.

How can Nao even think about going up against the ace if we can't even handle this guy?

Umemiya Seiichi stood up from the on-deck circle, his eyes filled with menace.

After a quick glance at Eijun standing far out in center field, his gaze locked onto Furuya.

But this only makes it more exciting.

Umemiya licked his dry lips and flashed a sinister grin. With bold strides, he stepped into the batter's box.

Come on, come on, Furuya! Don't shy away—don't back down! Show me your determination. Let's settle this with a head-on showdown!

The intense red aura radiated outwards, enveloping the stadium with a charged atmosphere.

It felt as if each challenging note struck a chord in Furuya's nerves, causing his fingers to tremble slightly.

"Don't let him dictate the rhythm, Furuya. Just maintain our tempo and suppress this batter. If you take him down, we'll have this game completely under control."

Miyuki gestured a signal with his right hand, pressing downward slightly.

"Yes, I understand, Miyuki-senpai."

First pitch: a fast forkball, perfectly timed to drop sharply.

The signal matched.

Whoosh.

The ball shot toward the plate, streaking like a flash of light.

Here it comes!

A flash of light gleamed in Umemiya Seiichi's eyes.

In an instant, his pupils narrowed, and he swung his bat with brutal force.

The violent sound of wind pressure followed, accompanied by a deep, roaring echo.

"Whoosh!"

"Thud!"

"Strike!"

The ball darted sharply down at the plate, the sound of it hitting the catcher's mitt ringing out. Reflecting this was Umemiya Seiichi's increasingly bloodthirsty expression.

The next pitch was an outside fastball.

"Whoosh!"

"Thud!"

"Strike!"

The following pitch was a ball outside and low.

"Whoosh!"

"Bang!"

"Ball!"

And the next…

"Whoosh!"

"Ping!"

"Bang!"

"Foul!"

It was as if Umemiya was intentionally entangling himself with Furuya.

He swung at everything that came his way.

Even the obvious balls—Umemiya didn't let them go.

Each pitch, each swing, seemed to ignite something within Umemiya.

The surge of adrenaline rushing through him now felt like it had reached its peak.

Come on, come on, come on!

More—give me more! Is that all you've got?!

Don't back down—face me head-on, you brat!

Those bloodthirsty eyes, the feral grin, the menacing demeanor.

Every move Umemiya made, every glance he threw, felt like it was plucking at each and every one of Furuya's heartstrings.