Some time later, the commencement of the final game of the World Series was close to beginning. Like usual, the players took to the field for the national anthem which was sung by pop star Kel Clarkson.

Out of all the performances he’d heard, this one was by far the best that Ken had heard.

‘She has a nice voice…’ Ken thought, singing along to the anthem.

The ballpark was buzzing after the performance and cheers erupted. Since they were playing at home, Detroit would have the luxury of batting last.

The announcer spoke over the speakers, introducing the players.

“Make some noise for our outfielders… Adrian Baddoo playing left, Ryan Greene at Center and Kris Carpenter in the right field!”

“From the infield… Samson Torkelson at first base, Jaime Schoop at second, Nate Maton at 3rd and Jose Baez playing short stop.”

The cheers didn’t stop as the players ran onto the field. But it was the next two names that were called out that caused the crowd to go crazy.

“Introducing next… The battery from the land of the rising sun!”

“Number 22… The baby-faced assassin Daichi Takagi!”

“AND NUMBER 13! THE UNICORN, KEN TAKAGIIIII!”

Ken who was already jogging towards the mound suddenly frowned through his poker face after hearing that cursed nickname appear once more. Unfortunately for him, a chant quickly started.

“UNI CORN”

“UNI CORN”

Hearing the difference between their nicknames, Ken couldn’t help but grow sour. Why couldn’t he have been given a cool nickname like baby-faced assassin?

He turned to see an amused Daichi trying to hide his smile as he walked to his position. Upon seeing Ken looking at him, the guy turned away and cleared his throat.

‘He thinks it’s funny…’

Fortunately for Ken, his annoyance was quickly forgotten thanks to the atmosphere within the ballpark. Now that everyone had stopped chanting the abominable nickname, the gravity of his situation began to dawn on him.

This was the final game of the World Series, and potentially the final game of his career. Of course Ken intended to put everything on the line to win the match, but it still didn’t change this fact.

He arrived at the mound and picked up one of the rosin bags nearby and began to roll it around in his hand in preparation for the warm-up throws. Once Daichi gave him the signal, he tossed the bag aside and collected the ball from his glove.

PAH

PAH

PAH

8 warm-up throws later, Ken gave the thumbs up to the plate umpire, signaling he was ready. While waiting for the first batter to head onto the field, Ken took this chance to look amongst the crowd.

This was something that he never usually did, but perhaps because he was feeling a little melancholic, he decided to tonight.

For some reason, seeing all of these fans come out to support them made him a little emotional. He thought back to his miserable previous life. How much had he wished for a moment like this? How often did he dream of this?

But here he was, living out his dream.

‘Even if it ends here… It was all worth it.’ Ken thought, a small smile creeping onto his lips.

As this thought crossed his mind, Ken felt his heart thump loudly in his chest. It wasn’t painful, but it surprised him enough to collect his thoughts.

“Batting first for Miami… Second base, John Berti.” The announcer called in his uninterested tone.

Seeing his first opponent strut onto the field, Ken took a deep breath and focused. All of the work he’d put in this life would show its fruits tonight. The long days of training, honing his skills wherever and whenever he could. The sacrifices he made…

“This is it…” he mumbled, exhaling.

Ken’s eyes locked onto Daichi, his indomitable will projecting outwardly.

The first lead came, a two-seam fastball. Ken nodded, getting into position.

He slowly raised his leg before kicking off the pitchers plate. Every movement was almost instinctive, his muscle memory and mental imagery overlapped, causing a strange phenomenon.

From the beginning of the action to the point where he released the ball, Ken’s movements seemed to meld together. There were no wasted movements, nor was there any loss of power in the action.

WHOOOOOOOSH

PAH!

“Strike!”

The ball slammed into the glove, producing a crisp sound that echoed within the stadium. The sound was so loud that people in the crowd were stunned into silence.

“107mph on the very first pitch! He’s going all out from the start.”

“Let’s go Ken!”

After seeing the speed of pitch appear on the jumbo screen, the crowd began to cheer loudly, showing their appreciation and support.

However, there were only a few people who understood the significance.

“T—That was a two-seam fastball right?” Jake said, swallowing his saliva.

“Yeah… How the hell did he almost break his speed record with a two-seam?”

The casual fan was probably unaware of the difference between the two-seam and four-seam fastball. With the two-seam, its gripped in a way where the wind placement causes it to move when thrown.

By sacrificing some velocity, the ball would either sink or tail in thanks to the wind resistance along the seams. This made it a perfect pitch to throw off batters when used in conjunction with the regular four-seam fastball.

The four-seam fastball was instead designed for straight-line speed with little to no movement. As a general rule of thumb, four-seam fastballs should be anywhere from 2 to 6 mph faster, depending on the pitcher.

So when Ken threw a 107mph two-seam fastball, those who knew the difference were utterly dumbfounded.

“What speed will he throw the four-seam?” Jake muttered from the dugout, his expression completely filled with disbelief.

On the mound, Ken who had just thrown possibly the best pitch in his life stared at his right hand in shock. This was the first time he’d properly pitched since receiving his L-Grade Elixir and the new skills.

His hand clenched into a fist and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

‘You guys are screwed now…’ Ken chuckled in his heart.