Life As Sawamura Eijun Chapter 570: Confrontation Under Overwhelming Pressure

Chapter 570: Confrontation Under Overwhelming Pressure

At the same time, Chris, who had just delivered a clean hit, advanced easily to second base.

With Captain Yuuki and Isashiki-senpai both returning to home plate without issue, the third-years added two more runs, stretching the lead to four. And still, on the field, there was only one out, with runners on second and third.

The second round of the seniors’ batting lineup in the third inning was already pushing Furuya to his breaking point.

An unstoppable offensive.

Even though it was only the third inning, Furuya was already drenched in sweat on the mound—the pressure from his seniors was simply too overwhelming.

The string of runs surrendered left him shaken.

He had expected that he would give up some runs. He understood he wasn’t yet at the level of his seniors.

But to be pummeled like this—it was something Furuya hadn’t anticipated. Even the spectators outside the field were clicking their tongues in amazement. This wasn’t just a friendly scrimmage anymore; it was an all-out assault to crush the current roster.

In the dugout, Kawakami—slated to pitch in the next inning—watched the seniors mercilessly swing away. His expression twisted into something uglier than a cry.

Even in left field, Eijun’s lips twitched. His heart sank heavily.

Seriously, the intimidation is insane. These senpai…

To be honest, in the earlier situation, even if he had been the one on the mound, Eijun couldn’t say with confidence that he’d hold them scoreless. At best, maybe he wouldn’t allow as many runs as Furuya had—but giving up runs was almost a certainty.

What the hell did these seniors eat today? Look at how fired up they all are…

Damn it, today the pitcher’s mound was a landmine waiting to blow.

Eijun grumbled internally, bitter and exasperated.

“Whoosh!”

“Clang!”

“Thud!”

“Foul ball!”

“Whoosh!”

“Pop!”

“Strike! Batter out!”

“Three outs, change sides!”

Furuya may have been rattled after surrendering three runs in a single inning, and his expression was dark, but thanks to Miyuki’s guidance, he managed to steady himself.

In the latter half of the inning, he finally regained control, pitching with everything he had to suppress the seniors’ assault.

Sakai hit a towering fly to right-center, which Tojou caught for the out.

Monden struck out swinging.

The top of the third finally ended, the seniors’ attack stopped at last. But still, Furuya had been thoroughly battered—utterly broken down by his upperclassmen.

“Man, Yuuki and Isashiki really aren’t holding anything back.”

“Haha, guess this is what they call ‘senpai’s tough love.’”

“The fall tournament, this new team making it all the way to the finals—that’s already a great achievement. But these senpai… I think they just want to give these kids a little wake-up call.”

“Three innings in, and the lead is already four runs. Now this is getting exciting.”

“Next up is Kawakami, right? Tsk tsk, I wonder how many runs he’s going to give up.”

“Pfft, you’re awful. But now I’m curious too.”

“Come on, let’s place bets—how many runs will the current team give up in total?”

“Hah! That’s terrible—but count me in!”

“I say ten runs.”

“You guys are too much. Fine, twelve for me.”

“I think twenty runs!”

“Pfft, that’s over the top!”

“Hold on, I’m in too…”

“Well, I say they’ll give up…”

The rowdy spectators laughed and joked, actually opening a betting pool on how many runs the first- and second-years would surrender.

The lively chatter spread from the stands into the dugout, where the current team’s faces darkened.

This was going way too far.

They were actually betting on it?

Twenty runs? Are you kidding me?

“That’s nothing. Listen up, you brats—today, we’re gonna score thirty runs on you!!”

The voice boomed from the third-base dugout.
No need to look to know who it was.

That cocky, taunting declaration could only belong to Isashiki-senpai.

Kuramochi, Maezono, Tojo, Aso—all their expressions turned pitch black, darker than the bottom of a pot.

Even Miyuki and Eijun could only shake their heads.

These damn bystanders. They just want to stir things up.

“It really does feel like this is the seniors’ home turf,” Eijun muttered with a wry smile.

“Well, they’re senpai after all. We know exactly what they’re like,” Miyuki replied, smiling slyly.

“True enough… but still, I really want to beat them.”

Eijun raised an eyebrow, a sharp grin curling on his lips.

“Which means… it’s about time we start our counterattack.”

“Yeah!!”

Standing nearby, Furuya—now fully geared as a batter—clenched his bat tight, his eyes burning with determination.

This would be his last half-inning on the field today.
He had given up four runs.

At the very least—he had to take one back.

“Bottom of the third inning. Batting eighth for the current team, center fielder, Tojo-kun.”

“Go for it, Tojo!”

“Bring one back here!”

“Tojo!!”

“We’re counting on you!”

The current players, fired up by the seniors’ merciless attack, were now bursting with fighting spirit.

They couldn’t let themselves be pushed around any longer.

As Tojo gripped his bat and slowly stepped into the batter’s box, he immediately felt the overwhelming pressure pressing down on him.

It was the intimidation radiating from the seniors.

His expression grew ever more solemn.

Stay calm. I must stay calm. I can’t let myself get swallowed by their aura.

Standing in the batter’s box, Tojo lightly twirled his bat, pressed his lips together, and settled into his stance. His face carried a look of utmost seriousness.

“Play ball!”

At Kataoka’s sharp call from behind, the game resumed.

Behind the plate, Chris swiftly flashed a sign.

With the lead stretched to four runs, this cushion allowed him the freedom to call pitches that would methodically suppress the batters.

“Whoosh!”

As the sign was set, on the pitcher’s mound Tanba swung his arm high.

The next instant—

A streak of light cut through the air, blazing toward home.

That sharp glow burst forth in an instant.

In the batter’s box, Tojo’s eyes narrowed.
The incoming pitch reflected clearly in his vision.

Boom!

He planted his foot hard into the dirt.

“Swish!”

Having read the ball’s trajectory in a split second, Tojo threw every ounce of strength into his swing.

The ball bore down.

Shadows overlapped.

Clang!!

In the very next moment, the ball and bat collided violently, ringing out with a heavy sound.