Chapter 118: <118> The Punished Beast and a Frustrating Day
Chapter 118: The Punished Beast and a Frustrating Day
"Now it's one ball and one strike! The pitch I need to be most wary of is her sinker."
"With my current familiarity with the wooden bat, there's no way I can hit it properly yet! It'll take at least a few dozen swings or more to get the hang of it."
"What kind of pitch will she throw next? I can't wait to find out!"
"How's it going, Sendo-kun? Our ace is pretty impressive, isn't she?" Coach Mitani casually struck up a conversation.
"Yeah! She's better than most guys I've faced. Looks like I'll be making up for all those missed swings from the past few years today!"
"Is that so? Well, it's an honor then!"
With their idle chat over, the next pitch was signaled.
Ping!
A sharp slider sent the ball flying out of bounds behind home plate.
"That's two strikes now!" Coach Mitani announced nonchalantly while signaling the next pitch. Chatting during practice was completely normal here.
"Indeed. Ozawa-san is truly an impressive pitcher!" Sendo said, watching as Ozawa prepared to throw again.
Lift, step, swing!
"Hmm?" Sendo swung as usual, but the ball started to drop sharply.
Ping!
The ball flew high into the air.
"That's just an ordinary fly ball. So, you've lost this one too, Sendo-kun!"
"Isn't that perfectly normal?" Sendo responded indifferently.
"Hey, aren't you even the slightest bit upset? How am I supposed to keep the pressure on you like this?" Coach Mitani thought to himself, exasperated.
If Sendo could hear his inner thoughts, he would surely quip, "Professional coaches, huh? None of you are normal! Your conscience is absolutely rotten!"
Despite losing two consecutive at-bats, Sendo wasn't as unconcerned as he seemed. During the break, he carefully analyzed the situation, thinking of ways to turn things around.
But there was no rush just yet.
In a battle between pitcher and batter, even a .300 average—three hits in ten at-bats—was considered excellent. This was only his second at-bat.
"Man, Ozawa-san has way too many types of breaking balls!"
"While her velocity isn't exactly fast, her delivery is consistent across all pitch types. And without any easy pitches to hit, it's tough to react properly."
"Plus, with Coach Mitani's experience, calling the game for a pitcher with so many options makes his job much easier. And I'm stuck using a wooden bat too!"
Sendo hadn't even considered how much easier it would be if he used his familiar metal bat, designed for power hitting in softball.
That wouldn't be a duel or practice; it'd just be one-sided bullying!
"I guess I'll have to settle for fouling off a few pitches for now. How should I approach it?" Sendo tapped his chin, deep in thought.
"Wait a minute… fouls?" A spark of realization crossed his face.
"Foul balls... fouls..." Suddenly, a vivid memory from a classic scene in Cross Game popped into his head.
"Hehe! Ozawa-san, don't blame me for this—I'm going to have to tease you a bit!" Sendo chuckled to himself.
...
"Time's up! Next at-bat!" Coach Mitani called after three minutes.
As Ozawa warmed up, she recalled something the coach had told her during the break:
"Ozawa, holding him off for two at-bats shows how much you've improved this past year."
"But the main reason you've held the advantage is that Sendo-kun is still getting a feel for the wooden bat and adjusting his timing."
"Coach Nakani mentioned that Sendo has an extraordinary sensitivity to touch. His ability to adapt to the wooden bat will be far faster than you expect."
"Don't count on him taking days to get used to it—this monster could find his rhythm at any moment. Be mentally prepared!"
Ozawa knew exactly what he meant. Last year, in just a handful of at-bats, she had been utterly dismantled. This time, however, she had thought through everything before agreeing to this training session.
The crushing feeling of being dominated last year didn't even compare to the intensity of this practice. The closer she got, the more she realized the gap between them.
But facing someone this strong was the only way to grow. Sendo needed this practice too, to quickly find his competitive form—his limited game experience was a glaring issue.
"If I'm going to be bullied eventually, I might as well get some payback now!" Ozawa thought, steeling herself.
...
"Strike!" Coach Mitani called after the first pitch of the third at-bat—a sharp fastball that just clipped the zone.
For the first time, Mitani had dared to call for a fastball inside the strike zone, though it was placed with precision.
Against an opponent like Sendo, this was a risky move, especially since he would consider the velocity too slow.
Still, Ozawa's fastball had more zip than any of her previous pitches, surprising even Mitani.
"Under this much pressure, she's evolving rapidly. I didn't expect it to happen so quickly," he thought, delighted.
"I don't get this guy. He was avoiding me like the plague earlier, and now he's throwing pitches right into the strike zone? It totally caught me off guard!" Sendo muttered to himself.
"I can't think too much about it. Getting shut out in three straight at-bats would be humiliating!"
While Sendo was lost in thought, the next pitch came hurtling toward him.
Whoosh!
Pop!
"A sinker!"
"What's wrong, Sendo-kun? Two straight pitches without a swing!"
"Ozawa-san is truly amazing!" Sendo said, his tone unusually serious this time, though he had repeated the sentiment many times before.
"With no balls and two strikes, what's your plan now?"
"Learn from Kou-san!"
"Kou-san? You have a father named Kou? Aren't you an only child?" Coach Mitani asked, puzzled.
"Uh, I mean someone I deeply respect with the first name Kou, so I call him 'Kou-san'!"
"I see. You youngsters really are something else!" The distraction ended Mitani's curiosity, and he turned his focus back to the game.
"Learn from Kou-san!" Sendo declared, as he fouled off the next pitch.
"Learn from Kou-san means…"
Ping!
"Hmm?" Mitani noticed something off after two consecutive fouls.
"Using fouls to..."
Ping!
"Wear her out!"
Ping!
"That's just a downright bullying tactic!" Mitani realized, quickly catching on to Sendo's new approach.
Sendo's strategy of hitting only half the ball required minimal effort.
By making light contact, the ball's trajectory naturally altered, flying behind him.
This approach might seem simple, but it demanded exceptional dynamic vision, reflexes, and timing.
Even the smallest contact could send the ball rolling behind him.
However, these abilities weren't just "nice to have." Each had to be developed to a superhuman level.
The faster the pitch, the higher the demand on dynamic vision and reaction time.
While swing speed could compensate somewhat, beyond a certain velocity, it all came down to raw talent.
This technique, in theory, shouldn't exist.
Even Major League hitters known for their finesse wouldn't be able to pull off such a trick against a 135 km/h high school pitcher.
The foundation of this technique lay in reaction speed, spatial awareness, and timing—all of which required peak-level talent.
In fact, a player with just one of these traits at a world-class level would already be considered extraordinary.
But here stood Sendo, a beast whose abilities surpassed all logical limits.
Under this overwhelming display of natural talent, what should have remained theoretical or confined to manga became a reality right in front of them.
Sendo wasn't even playing in the same dimension as Ozawa.
He could leisurely position his bat 0.1 seconds ahead of time, waiting for the ball to hit it and fly out of play.
"Sendo-kun, how did you come up with this?" Coach Mitani asked with a wry smile.
Sendo shrugged. "Oh, just a sudden inspiration." He certainly couldn't admit that he had learned it from a manga in his previous life. Even if it was true, his sudden recollection fit the "inspiration" narrative.
At this time, Cross Game hadn't even started serialization yet, and Sendo wasn't sure of the exact timeline.
It should have been around now, but he hadn't had time to check.
"If this is just practice, maybe keep that 'godly skill' in reserve for now," Coach Mitani suggested with a laugh.
"Alright, I'll hold back," Sendo agreed reluctantly. His newfound strategy was shelved almost immediately.
What Sendo didn't know was that Coach Mitani had been deeply shaken.
He resolved to intentionally walk Sendo in future games, even with the bases loaded—anything to avoid facing this utterly unfair technique!
...
"Let's continue!"
"Got it!"
"Perfect! Sendo-kun has relaxed a bit after his casual hits. Now's the time to press him hard and take him down!" Mitani thought as he signaled the next pitch.
"An inside pitch?"
Ping!
"A slider?"
Finally, a sinker forced Sendo to hit a ground ball to the infield, bringing his momentum to a halt.
Sendo slumped in silence, clearly frustrated.
...
It didn't take him long to realize Coach Mitani's cunning intent—to strike while he was off guard.
Unlike Ryousuke, who used foul balls to wait for opportunities, Sendo was using them to get a feel for the wooden bat.
But because it was still just practice, Sendo's relaxed mindset had left him vulnerable. The sudden shift in strategy, coupled with his slower mental adjustment, threw him off.
"This coach is practically a demon! Who takes practice so seriously as to play mind games?" Sendo muttered in frustration.
Over the next two at-bats, Sendo only managed a single well-placed infield grounder. Exploiting his incredible speed, he argued his way into calling it an infield hit, claiming he would have beaten the throw in a real game.
Coach Mitani couldn't refute this. Anyone who had seen Sendo's explosive speed over short distances knew how terrifying it was.
Even elite Major League infielders wouldn't be able to throw him out without prior preparation.
After one set of five at-bats, including rest periods, half an hour had passed.
With 15 minutes until the next set, Sendo used the time to practice his swings and adjust to the bat's feel.
In the second set, things became even tougher.
Every at-bat stretched to double-digit pitch counts, exhausting Ozawa.
Over five at-bats, she threw over 40 pitches.
At this rate, Ozawa would struggle to maintain her control through the third set, leaving openings for Sendo to exploit.
Such a scenario would no longer qualify as training but as outright bullying.
By the second set's conclusion, Sendo had worn her down significantly. Although he didn't get clean hits every time, he managed three infield grounders that allowed him to reach base, along with two solid outs.
...
Before starting the final set, Coach Mitani spoke up. "This will be the last set, Sendo-kun. Based on the pitch count, we can't push Ozawa too hard—she still has training to do afterward."
"Understood! Let's finish this strong!" Sendo replied.
...
The final set played out much the same as the previous ones. Sendo's speed gave him an edge, allowing him to turn three infield grounders into "hits," though he couldn't manage any long drives.
On the surface, it seemed like Ozawa had the upper hand, but her exhaustion was evident. Meanwhile, Sendo's foot speed skewed the stats in his favor.
...
"Let's call it a day. Sendo-kun, if you're not in a rush, stick around. We're about to have lunch," Coach Mitani suggested.
"Is the food here good? I'm picky, you know," Sendo teased. After a frustrating day, he wasn't about to settle for a subpar meal.
"Don't worry! Our meals are well-balanced, diverse, and delicious. Plus, eating with so many lovely ladies isn't a bad deal, is it?" Mitani quipped, veering off topic again.
Sendo was taken aback—he hadn't expected the usually serious coach to have such a laid-back side.
But as long as the food was good, he wouldn't complain. He wasn't in the mood to be picky anymore.
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