Musa Manru, the 4th batter, was at bat.
Even in this critical situation, Lucas was smiling brightly. SC's fourth hitter furrowed his brow.
'What are you smirking at?' he thought.
Lucas had brought about a crisis by giving consecutive walks, and now he was even laughing?
The very idea of an Asian taking the mound in the United States was unpleasant for Musa. He didn't even like Lucas's attitude towards baseball.
'You uncivilized kid. I'll hit a home run for you,' he thought.
Of course, that was just a thought.
For a pitcher who couldn't even throw a strike, even swinging seemed a waste.
WOOOSH—!
THUMP—!.
But when the first pitch landed squarely in the catcher's mitt, Musa's eyes widened.
'What, what is this?'
An unexpected fastball—he couldn't even see the ball. Musa furrowed his brow and clenched his teeth.
'I must have seen it wrong. I thought it was me and didn't pay attention.'
He grabbed the bat, determined not to let his guard down this time.
WOOOSH—!
THUMP—!.
"Strike!" The umpire's call echoed through the field.
Musa blinked.
This time, even though he got to the plate properly, he couldn't keep up with Lucas's pitches.
'Oh, shit,' he thought. 'It's fast. It's fast, but it's too fast.'
The talent of these Asians is top-notch, at least in California. Musa's whole body began to tremble, but he quickly gritted his teeth.
He was a powerful hitter who had won the home run title in the league last season.
'I guess I was caught off guard. But I guess he can only throw down the middle,' he reasoned.
Musa gripped the bat tighter.
'If it flies down the middle again, I'm definitely going to hit a home run.'
Meanwhile, Lucas quickly furrowed his brows, contrary to his relieved expression.
'No. Why can't he hit it when I throw it straight down the middle?'
He thought about what Mike had said: the 4th batter, who came to bat, was a famous hitter who could even win the home run title.
'No. He need to hit this to see how I feel.'
He threw two consecutive pitches to the middle of the plate to gauge his ability against a well-known hitter.
Since a pitcher cannot only strike out batters his entire life, his purpose was to check the direction in which he was striking out batters.
'he will hit it this time,' Lucas thought, winding up again.
'If he is not an idiot, he already hit the bat with the first two pitches, right?'
The ball left Lucas's hand, and the batter's bat also came out without fail.
WOOOSH—!
THUMP—!.
"Strike out!"
Lucas licked his dry lower lip with his tongue.
'What the heck is this?'
Even though SC isn't a great baseball school like Santa Monica, he threw the same pitch three times in a row.
'But you can't hit that?'
Lucas chuckled at the sight. In fact, the current Lucas was completely different from the Lucas of just moments before.
The Lucas who used to throw wild pitchforks without thinking had already disappeared a long time ago.
Instead, the skills that he had been unknowingly suppressing began to slowly emerge.
However, Lucas, who was not yet aware of this fact, simply concluded that it was because his opponent was not doing well.
'Right. Mike said that No. 4's batting mechanics weren't good. That's true. Well, that's what happens when you're a batter who relies on power. Let's have another proper fight with the next batter.'
Lucas was calm, but the crisis was not over yet. The 5th batter, one of the cleanup trio, came up to bat.
If Lucas could measure his pitching ability against this player...
"Strike out!"
'What?' Lucas thought.
This time, he threw a fastball down the middle three times in a row. But the batter took three swings and still couldn't touch his pitch. Lucas began to feel something strange.
Although SC wasn't a prestigious baseball team, their opponents were among the best members.
'But 6 swings and misses on 6 pitches? Did I set the bar for American high school baseball too high?
' And as if to confirm Lucas's thoughts, the next batter also struck out.
Lucas still didn't realize that his pitching had improved, and he was convinced that he had set the bar too high for American high school baseball.
***
"Strike out!"
9 consecutive strikeouts.
Lucas, who finished the third inning cleanly, came down from the mound and went into the dugout.
"Wow! You must be crazy!"
"Nine consecutive strikeouts? And that was against the SC first team!"
Lucas simply nodded at their compliments.
9 consecutive strikeouts.
The season hasn't started yet, so the players' physical condition isn't perfect.
'That's why they swung and missed at the unexpected fastball speed.'
So, the praise from his teammates now seemed like excessive lip service. But even as he thought that, Lucas smiled.
The director gestured to Lucas. "Lucas. Look at me for a sec."
"Did you call?"
"Yeah. Let's end it here today as promised."
Lucas nodded.
This was enough. Even within the California League, his pitches were effective against mid-tier teams.
He was able to be sure that at least he was not a frog in a well, a promising prospect who was receiving attention in Korea.
Of course, SC was only mid-level, and it could change if they met players destined for the major leagues in the upper ranks.
'For now, what's important is that my ball is effective in the league.'
A little faith in one's own talents—that was enough for now.