Hassan vs. Ryuji

Hassan versus Ryu Ji.

The Japan versus Pakistan matchup.

The starting pitcher was Hassan.

He went into a big windup and unleashed his first pitch.

Thwack!!!

"Wha—...!!"

Japan's leadoff hitter, Fukuda Akira, recoiled in shock. The straight fastball barreling in on his body was no joke.

"161 km/h...!!"

Akira broke out in a cold sweat.

One wrong move and it could've hit him square, but Hassan acted like he couldn't care less, casually catching the return throw.

After his "awakening," with close coaching guidance and full care from the Pakistan national team staff, Hassan had leveled up across the board.

With his skill activated, transforming him into Allah's Apostle, his stats were now on par with any top high school ace in the country.

Thwack!!

"Strike three!!"

Thwack!!

"Strike three!!"

Thwaack!!

"Strike three!!"

Hassan set down the top of the first on three straight strikeouts. The Pakistani fans in the stands and those watching the broadcast back home shed tears of joy.

"Ahh...!!"

"We have a pitcher like that too!!"

But it was too early to relax.

In the top of the second, the matchup that would decide the game's fate was unfolding—a pitchers' duel turned slugfest.

"Whoa, Hassan, you look totally different."

Takahina Ryuji stepped up to the plate.

Facing off against his teammate from yesterday as enemies now.

Hassan didn't waste words, firing his first pitch right away.

Thwaack!!

"...Man, no mercy even for your senior, huh."

A blistering fastball right down the middle.

He didn't bite on the splitter that followed.

Count 2-1, Ryuji swung at the fastball.

Crack!

A foul into the backstop.

Now 2-2.

Ryuji started bracing for "that pitch."

If it's coming, it'll be the two-seamer, right?

The pitch he'd learned from Ma Deok-su, the one that induced a double play against Choi Hyeok-su in the finals.

Ryuji visualized its trajectory, thinking he was ready. Or so he thought.

Thwack!!

"Strike three...!!"

"......!!"

Ryuji's bat whiffed through empty air.

The two-seamer was far sharper than he'd imagined.

Hassan's two-seamer had grown at least two full grades since joining the national team.

"This might be tough today..."

Ryuji returned to the dugout wiping genuine sweat from his brow. And as he'd feared, the game stayed tight.

The announcers showered him with praise.

Japan's lineup wasn't lacking firepower—they had solid construction with plenty of gap-power guys—but they struggled hard against the awakened Hassan.

It wasn't just the raw power of his pitches. With his vastly improved control, Hassan could pepper the zone whenever he wanted.

But when batters crowded the plate or situations called for a hold runner, he'd fire a threatening ball in without hesitation.

Thwack!!

"Gah...!!"

The hitters flinched in terror.

One graze and they'd be sidelined for weeks. And with his unpredictable targeting, it was even scarier. Bolstered by his upgraded stats, Hassan had become a pitcher who instilled fear on multiple levels.

Thwop!

"Tch, damn."

In his second at-bat against Hassan, Ryuji crushed a two-seamer with everything he had, but it died at the warning track.

The regret stung extra hard—it would've been gone in a smaller park.

As Japan's offense fizzled out repeatedly, Pakistan gained momentum.

Crack!

To make matters worse for Japan, they'd surrendered the game's first run.

If Hassan kept shutting them down, they'd be eliminated in the round of 16 by Pakistan—a total disaster.

Hassan pitched perfectly through the seventh.

But with two outs, the shortstop botched a play. Runners piled up on first, and of all people, he stepped up again.

"Hoo."

Ryuji steadied his breath and entered the box, all playfulness gone, deadly serious.

Have to treat him like I'm facing Seong-muk.

Gogogo...

A dragon-blood aura seeped out.

A clash of titans.

A fastball exploded from Hassan's fingertips.

But the ball veered wildly off course.

"....!!"

Crash!!

Straight at Ryuji's head.

He ducked just in time, but his helmet flew off as he tumbled backward.

".........!!"

Hassan snapped to his senses.

He'd nearly seriously injured his precious high school senior.

The deep trance of his "possession" state shattered completely.

"Ryu—Ryuji hyung...!"

Hassan bolted toward the mound in worry, but Ryuji waved him off—I'm fine.

The Pakistani coach, watching it all, looked skyward with a sigh.

"It's over...."

Crack!!

Deflated, Hassan couldn't handle Ryuji anymore. The result: a game-changing two-run shot.

Ryuji circled the bases after the homer, but his expression wasn't joyful.

"...Hoo, didn't want to win it like this."

He'd been adapting to Hassan's awakened form.

Ideally, he'd have crushed one of Hassan's peak pitches over the fence.

Either way, the game flipped.

Post-skill, Hassan struggled a bit with the batters behind Ryuji but somehow kept it scoreless through seven.

The real trouble came next.

From the eighth, Pakistan's relievers got shelled by Japan's fired-up hitters.

The one-sided rout was sealed by that batter, of course.

Crack!!

Ryuji's homer exploded again.

A dagger of a three-run blast.

Japanese baseball fans were convinced.

This kid was the future of Team Japan.

Thwack!

"Strike three, game set!!"

10-1.

Japan erupted for eight in the eighth and ninth, closing it out with monstrous firepower.

Today's MVP: Takahina Ryuji, no question.

Before his interview, he headed to the Pakistan dugout.

"What do you want, punk?!"

"Here to pick a fight?!"

The Pakistan players bristled, but Hassan held up a hand.

"Don't, he's my precious high school senior."

"Ahh, yep! Sorry...!"

The seniors bowed deeply in apology.

Hassan, looking awkward at the excessive deference, scratched his neck and stepped out.

"Ryuji hyung, you got ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pretty scared back there, right? Sorry."

".........."

Ryuji stared at Hassan, then chuckled.

He'd worried about the changes, but this was the pure Hassan he knew.

Guess he only flakes out during games, like Seong-muk or Nana.

Either way, Hassan's massive level-up before the Sejong Cup was welcome news. A sturdier mound meant their championship dreams were closer.

"Hyu—hyung. Why so quiet? You mad after all...?"

"Ah, sorry! Was lost in thought."

Ryuji realized he'd gone silent, patted Hassan's shoulder reassuringly.

"It's cool, man. I know better than anyone it wasn't on purpose."

"Ryuji hyung...."

"It's not like it's the first time I've seen your stuff drop off, right?"

"Hyung, this is encouragement, right...?"

Hassan couldn't help but laugh.

He shook hands with Ryuji, wishing him luck.

"Hyung, I'm heading back first. To Munhyeok High."

"Yeah, go rest up."

Squeeze!

"I'll stick around to watch Seong-muk whip some ass."

The quarterfinal matchup was locked: Korea vs. Japan.

The tournament's second Korea-Japan clash was set. Japan had won the first.

Baseball fans worldwide turned their eyes to this rematch.

"You pulled it off in the end, Ryuji."

Exactly as expected.

Hassan's insane growth was impressive, something to cheer as a teammate, but not enough to carry his team to victory.

Without Ryuji, Pakistan might've beaten Japan, who's ranked over 100 spots higher.

Pakistan hung tough thanks to Hassan's one-man show against a top-10 world power, but they couldn't breach the monster slugger who'd already notched nearly nine homers in this tournament alone.

...Go half-assed even once, and you're done.

Ryuji was that terrifying right now.

But there was a way.

A status window popped up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before my eyes.

I flashed a confident grin.

I've not been sitting idle either.

My "secret weapons" against Team Japan.

With these, I could definitely take them down.

Just you wait—time to set the hierarchy straight.

I had to let Ryuji know.

That it would take him at least another decade to surpass this big bro!