At noon, everyone gathered at the hotel entrance to board the school-arranged bus to Hanshin Koshien Stadium for the second round.
Technically, it would only take a few minutes to walk there from the hotel the Aoba baseball team was staying at.
But after the incident involving Takashi went public, Aoba decided to use buses for safety reasons.
Inside the bus, it was completely silent. No one spoke.
Sitting in the back by the window, Takashi had his earphones in, eyes closed, seemingly resting.
He looked completely unaffected by the storm of public opinion outside.
But what he was really thinking—no one knew.
The bus hadn't driven far before arriving at Hanshin Koshien Stadium.
At that moment, the stadium entrance was absolutely packed.
There were reporters wielding long and short lenses, female activists who had supposedly gone quiet but were still moving in the shadows, internet influencers pretending to be righteous just to ride the hate-wave against Takashi, obsessive fans mad their "goddess" had been dumped and came to scream at him, down-and-out middle-aged men using this as an outlet for their frustrations in life, and even plants hired by the Shinomiya family…
They all gathered here for different reasons, but at this moment, they formed a massive crowd centered around Takashi.
Aoba was already seen as a dark horse, drawing attention.
Now, after topping the trending charts and a full night of media buzz, Aoba had practically become the most talked-about team at Hanshin Koshien.
Every news outlet wanted exclusive access to Takashi.
"So many people…"
A first-year student swallowed nervously on the bus.
Anyone who didn't know better would think Aoba had already won the national championship.
Actually, even a national champion might not draw such overwhelming attention.
Though he said it softly, in the quiet bus, his words sounded unusually loud.
Several players, including Katsuda Musashi, looked out at the scene and instinctively turned their eyes to Takashi.
But Takashi remained as calm as ever, eyes closed like a man sitting peacefully at the heart of a storm.
"They're here!"
Someone shouted that line, and the reporters and paparazzi swarmed toward the bus like sharks scenting blood—even before it had come to a full stop.
Fortunately, thanks to the efforts of security, traffic police, and regular police, the situation was barely kept under control.
In fact, once the crowd reached a certain size, government agencies had already intervened.
The Aoba team bus didn't enter the parking area but stopped right at the front gate.
It was the shortest route.
Once the bus stopped, the players began disembarking one by one.
Even they weren't spared—reporters immediately turned their cameras on them.
"Takashi, we're getting off."
Katsuda Musashi was about to step out when he noticed Takashi still hadn't moved. Thinking he'd fallen asleep, he went over and gently nudged him.
Takashi slowly opened his eyes and glanced at the team captain.
"If I get off now, you guys won't be able to move an inch. Head in first. I'll be right behind you."
"This…" Katsuda wanted to say something more, but Amatani Kensuke interrupted him.
"Katsuda, do what Takashi says."
Before coming, he'd received instructions from the school principal:
"Keep the others safe. Don't worry about anything else. Leave the rest to Takashi."
"Take care of the others. Don't worry about anything else—leave the rest to Takashi."
Katsuta Musashi had no choice but to get off the bus.
Amatani Kensuke gave Takashi one last glance before following him down.
Soon, only Takashi and the driver remained on the bus.
Takashi pulled the curtain aside, rested his elbow on the window frame, propped his face on one hand, and gazed down at the crowd below.
His expression was calm, as if he were watching a bunch of red-nosed clowns performing for free.
That look immediately provoked the group of discontented onlookers.
"Get down here!!!"
"Scumbag, get your ass down!"
"Takashi, commit seppuku!!!"
Takashi listened to their words without the slightest emotional ripple. If anything, he felt like laughing.
These soft insults? Please.
You'd last three seconds in a ranked League match before they roasted your ancestors.
Smack!
An egg flew through the air and smashed against the window beside Takashi, its yolk and whites oozing down the glass in a sticky trail.
Where there was one egg, there soon followed a second, a third.
Not just eggs—soon it was rotten lettuce, carrot tops, and other junk, pelting the windows of the bus.
The loud thuds echoed across the bus.
Takashi had already anticipated this scene before arriving. Seeing it unfold just as he expected, he flashed a smile, revealing a perfect row of white teeth.
He smiled—and that drove the mob into even greater rage.
He's smiling?
How dare he smile?!
Some people looked like they might burst through the police line to rush the bus and drag him out for a beating.
But obviously, they couldn't.
Even if they managed to get on the bus, with the tight space inside, Takashi could elbow one down with every swing.
Take a few out, and the rest would fall in line.
The bombardment didn't last long. Soon, a squad of men in black suits wielding stun batons charged into the crowd.
They singled out the ones throwing rotten vegetables with ruthless precision, and without a word, laid into them—six strikes per second. The screams rang out instantly.
They were Hitomi's people.
And they came with one purpose: stun batons with temperature, batons with impact, kicks with accuracy, and law enforcement with boundaries.
"They're beating people up!"
"You tax thieves! What the hell are you even here for?"
"Dammit, we demand a public protest! We're taking this to the Supreme Court!"
"Who stepped on me?!"
"Which one of you pervs groped my butt? Officer, arrest him now!"
"My camera! You fat bastard, you broke my camera!"
Takashi hadn't even stepped off the bus yet, and the crowd had already started turning on itself.
They were just a ragtag bunch thrown together for the occasion, not some organized force.
And now, it was complete chaos.
The police were yelling, "Please remain calm! Maintain order!" as they tried to push through and make arrests.
But really, they weren't moving an inch. They just swayed in place.
They knew who these people were.
And they knew arresting them wouldn't make a difference. Right now, they were all pretending to be Lee Sin.
Once Takashi saw the situation was ripe, he slung his bag over his shoulder, stood up, and finally got off the bus.
The moment he stepped down, the crowd of reporters surged even harder.
They stretched their mics as far as they could, shouting:
"Takashi-san, do you have anything to say about last night's revelations?"
"No."
Takashi didn't avoid the question. He knew avoidance wouldn't solve anything. So he gave a direct answer.
"So you're admitting that all those girls are your girlfriends?"
Another reporter followed up immediately.
"No, they're just good frie—(P)als (Y), that's all."
Girlfriends?
What girlfriends?
He didn't have any girlfriends.
Just a few girls he held hands with, maybe kissed, occasionally slept beside—good friends, nothing more.
Don't twist it, alright?
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