Diamond No Ace: The Strongest Hitter

Chapter 143: The Irrefutable Mockery and the Shaken Kanda

"Home Run!"

When Sendo dropped his bat, the crowd finally reacted—erupting into cheers that shook the entire stadium.

"What the heck was that?!"

"I've never seen a home run like that before! Is that guy really a middle schooler?"

"That's the caliber of a top-tier Koshien slugger!"

"Hey! Isn't that going a bit too far?"

"But seriously, he's already at the level of a starting player for a Koshien powerhouse!"

The audience was in chaos. Some screamed in disbelief, others shared their excitement and joy with those around them.

"Is it over now? No need to play anymore? Baseball… is it always this terrifying?" For the first time, Reiko felt the awe-inspiring power of baseball.

Even Rika, usually reserved and quiet, suddenly embraced Reiko tightly in excitement. Even the elderly principal joined in, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"In the bottom of the seventh inning, the one to end the game was the pinch-hitter Sendo, with a single, devastating strike!"

The hit was so sudden that Tokugawa's players stood frozen in disbelief. Kanda, who had fought valiantly throughout the game, was crushed. His previously confident expression as he pitched now seemed like nothing but an illusion.

For Akagi Junior High School, who had lost to Tokugawa numerous times, this was their first victory, securing a place in the finals!

No one had expected Sendo—who was perceived as a strategic genius but an athletic dunce—to deliver such a jaw-dropping hit.

No one knew why this prodigy had been sitting on the bench, but today he showed everyone his incredible strength.

In his first at-bat, with his first swing, he obliterated Kanda's game-deciding pitch—a perfect home run that left everyone stunned.

The ball's speed was so fast that its trajectory couldn't even be tracked!

The commentator, after delivering an enthusiastic explanation, voiced the questions and amazement shared by all.

Who would've thought that the so-called strategic genius, believed to be utterly inept at sports, was actually a baseball demon in disguise?

This home run was a dreamlike display of overwhelming power, shattering Kanda's baseball dreams in an instant.

"Ahhhh!!!" The three players on base dashed toward home plate like madmen, giving it their all.

Upon reaching the plate, they slid and sat down, laughing uncontrollably.

Then, as if propelled by springs, they bounced up and hugged everyone they could reach.

The impact of their excitement even knocked some of their teammates to the ground.

Meanwhile, Sendo, expressionless and calm, dropped his bat and jogged around the bases at a leisurely pace, as if he were on a casual run.

By the time he reached home plate, everyone had already gathered in a tight celebratory huddle.

Even Wakana forgot her usual demeanor, clinging tightly to Sawamura before being engulfed by the crowd herself.

When Sendo finally completed his run, the team surged toward him, the hero of their dramatic comeback.

Ignoring any protests, they pounced on him. Quick as a flash, Sendo used his signature "Mudfish Technique" to escape the mob, evading their assault with ease.

At that moment, the coach announced the game's conclusion. The final score: 6-9.

"Sendo!"

"Sendo!"

"Sendo!"

"Sendo!"

"Sendo!"

Outside the field, the crowd chanted in unison, their voices blending into a singular roar of admiration.

For a moment, Sendo felt as if he were experiencing the same glory as the Sendo from Slam Dunk.

Under the thunderous applause, Tokugawa's players couldn't hold back their tears.

How many years had it been since Tokugawa had lost an official game within Nagano?

Even an inconsequential autumn tournament?

Years of accumulated prestige were shattered in one fell swoop.

That pitch—Kanda's decisive slider, executed with perfect precision and trajectory—was flawless.

Yet, it was demolished by an opponent's first at-bat and first swing, resulting in an unstoppable home run.

It could be said that the only reason the ball didn't fly farther was because the field wasn't big enough!

The sheer dominance of that hit left everyone speechless.

Even so, the sting of defeat remained unbearable.

"He's not even in the same dimension," muttered Coach Kunimi under his breath. As a devoted baseball enthusiast, just one swing was enough for him to grasp the level of Sendo's play.

Forget Nagano—Sendo's performance could easily compete on a national level, perhaps even in international tournaments.

His skill surpassed high school standards, akin to a lower-order batter from a top-tier Koshien team.

While this game didn't fully showcase his capabilities, it was clear that Sendo's talent was far beyond the realm of middle school baseball.

He stood out like a Major League starter dropped into a high school lineup—a true prodigy, unmatched by anyone around him.

...

"Nice job, you jerk!" Despite Sendo rejecting hugs, Sawamura exclaimed with excitement.

Everyone crowded around, chiming in all at once.

"That was incredible! You hit such a beautiful home run off that pitch!" Sawamura finally decided to play the mature one, commenting with admiration.

"If I couldn't hit a pitch like that, that would be strange! Who do you think I am?!" Sendo retorted confidently.

"...!"

The group collectively emitted a gloomy aura.

It felt like the conversation had hit a dead end.

"Although the slider's trajectory was decent, that pitcher's speed was too slow—whether for fastballs or breaking balls. If he had been ten kilometers per hour faster, maybe it'd be a different story."

Sendo followed up with another verbal blow.

"Ugh!"

"...!"

Even Wakana couldn't help but feel that Sendo's ability to taunt was off the charts—especially since his comments were delivered so earnestly, making them irrefutable.

It left everyone feeling like salted fish—lifeless and defeated.

They wanted to just curl up and vanish.

And it didn't stop there.

"Also, you all played terribly! With that kind of performance, did you really think you could win? You made my head hurt trying to think of solutions. In the end, I had no choice but to warm up and take the field myself!"

Sendo's string of taunts showed no signs of stopping.

Every sentence hit hard, and every word left them unable to respond.

At its core, it was a genius treating what he considered "common sense" as self-evident truths.

What could anyone do? Swallow their pride and endure it.

The worst part was that, while other geniuses might say these things unintentionally, Sendo clearly meant to say them.

How infuriating!

Finally, the team collectively decided to ignore Sendo and ended the celebration under the pretense of lining up for the post-game ritual.

As everyone turned away, Sendo flashed a signature smug grin, a sly glance paired with an upturned smirk that screamed mischief.

...

"9-6! Akagi Junior High wins!"

"Bow!"

"Thank you for the match!"

With the umpire's call, both teams exchanged bows.

"Hey!" As Sendo turned to leave, Kanda called out to him.

Kanda's eyes were bloodshot, clearly showing the devastating blow he had taken.

After all, it had been the best condition he'd ever been in—his most confident moment—only to be shattered by that one hit.

The mental toll was evident. Sendo's bat had not just crushed the ball; it had also crushed Kanda's baseball dreams.

To face such an overwhelming defeat from a peer of the same age, at the peak of his confidence—Kanda was on the verge of giving up baseball entirely.

Hearing someone call out behind him, Sendo turned around.

Even if no one had called him, his wandering attention span would have likely made him turn anyway.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Sendo looked at him, confused. Kanda's words came haltingly, between breaths.

It was clear that Sendo had underestimated how much of a blow Kanda had taken.

Kanda didn't have the mental resilience that Sendo possessed, and his emotions were barely under control, making his words choppy.

"Why didn't you play before? Were you injured?"

"There's no 'why.' I just didn't find baseball interesting. Plus, I've hardly trained," Sendo said after a brief pause, then turned to leave without waiting for a response.

Sendo wasn't one to waste words, especially in the heat of summer.

"Boom!"

Kanda's heart felt like it had been struck by a giant hammer.

"Just because of that?

Not interested in baseball, barely practiced?

I..."

For the first time, Kanda experienced the cruel reality of baseball and the vast gap in talent.

A single tear slid down his face, his expression filled with despair and helplessness.

Sendo's words weren't entirely unintentional.

It wasn't about crushing his opponent off the field—it was about forcing him to face reality and what he needed to confront.

In essence, it was to show him how high the sky truly was and let him taste the bitter sting of reality.

If Kanda could overcome this, he might grow stronger.

Although Sendo didn't believe Kanda had the potential to go pro, that would depend on his future development.

Even if he did enter professional baseball, he would face this reality eventually.

Experiencing it earlier, while still young, would cause less damage in the long run.

Much like Suguru Egawa, a legendary player who retired after one crushing home run due to fragile mental strength despite an otherwise illustrious career, Kanda was now at a crossroads.

Whether he could rise above this and become a dominant player in Nagano's high school baseball scene depended entirely on his resilience.

For a young teenager, this kind of setback wasn't terrifying—it was an opportunity.

Especially for someone whose talent didn't match their overwhelming confidence and who lacked the mental fortitude to back it up.

In comparison, children are more likely to bounce back from such blows.

If Kanda couldn't, it simply meant this was his limit.

Future challenges would only break him even further.

If a few more years pass before facing such a setback, Kanda might quit baseball entirely—even without the additional verbal blow.

But if he overcomes this, would someone who has already seen "hell" fear any further setbacks? Unless, of course, he encounters another "hell" in the future.

To Sendo, whether his approach was right or wrong in others' eyes didn't matter.

He simply acted on what he believed to be right.

If the damage was already done, he believed it was better to capitalize on it now rather than reopening old wounds later.

If Kanda couldn't overcome this now, when he was older and more complex in thought, even a setback far less severe than this one could be utterly destructive.

Many people in the future could break him, and this innocent and carefree age was the best time to face such trials.

A younger child might even forget about such an experience within days!

Take, for example, Harada Masatoshi—he probably doesn't even remember the name "Sendo" anymore.

After all, their interaction was fleeting.

Childhood friends from elementary school often fade from memory by the time high school rolls around unless the bond was particularly strong.

...

Akagi returned to their dugout, bowing in gratitude to the audience still chanting Sendo's name.

Tokugawa's team, leaning on each other for support, did the same—one side receiving cheers, the other receiving comfort.

Kanda, however, stood alone, seemingly lost in a daze. It was as if Sendo had become a nightmare that would haunt him forever—or perhaps lead to some other unexpected outcome.

...

"Sendo-kun! So cool!" His fangirls were rapidly multiplying.

"Sendo! I'm officially your fan now! I'll come cheer for you in the finals, so don't sit on the bench again!" Voices like these rose from the crowd as Akagi prepared to leave the field.

Their concerns were understandable.

After all, if Sendo had been injured, there was no way he would have stayed on the bench for over a year.

Even a bone injury would have healed by now.

Last summer, Sendo was visibly energetic and uninjured, ruling out any major physical issues.

Though most people hadn't noticed before, the commentary earlier had revealed that Sendo had been sitting on the bench for over a year.

This context made his home run all the more shocking, leaving people momentarily speechless.

A player who had spent over a year as a substitute, who wasn't even sent in over female players, must have seemed like an athletic dunce.

And yet, the contrast was staggering—his home run had left the audience screaming in disbelief.

Everyone realized the truth: this guy simply didn't want to play!

...

At that moment, Susabano Middle School's players entered, briefly greeting Sendo and his team.

"Congratulations on making it to the finals, seniors!" said their captain, Takayori.

The other players nodded respectfully.

Despite being juniors, their recent matches with Akagi and the summer competition had earned them admiration for Akagi's baseball team—especially for Sendo's incredible performance.

A few of Susabano's former little league players had already become unabashed fans of Sendo after his earlier display.

Sendo, unfazed by the audience's cheers, gave a slight nod of acknowledgment to Susabano's players before leading his team off the field.

They still planned to watch the second game.

...

Initially, Sendo had intended to leave immediately if they lost, but even he couldn't resist his own impulses—his hand had acted on its own, leading them to victory.

The intense duel between Tokugawa and Akagi left the crowd thoroughly satisfied.

By contrast, Susabano's game was a one-sided affair, offering little excitement.

In the end, Susabano won 11-0, ending the game early.

Even without a renowned coach, Susabano's team had several talented former little league players.

If not for their younger age, they might have used their raw talent to overpower Tokugawa.

The audience understood that Tokugawa would need to wait until Susabano's first-year players graduated to reclaim their dominance.

With five former little league stars already showing performance only slightly below Tokugawa and Akagi's level, Susabano's future in Nagano's regional softball tournaments seemed incredibly bright.

If Susabano recruited more little league players in the coming years, the ruler of Nagano could very well change hands.