156-160

Chapter 156: The Ultimate Strategic Allocation  

Though neither team had scored yet, this was all part of QP’s carefully planned tempo for Yamato.  

By exerting his own overwhelming pressure, he gave Yamato more time to observe the behavior and habits of their two opponents.  

Even if Tōjō Atobe had no chance to touch the ball, his movement patterns were still being meticulously recorded by Yamato Yūda.  

Just two minutes of this intense pressure provided Yamato with more insight than he’d normally gather in three full games.  

Putting aside innate talent, the effectiveness of Yamato’s Misalignment Shot depended entirely on observation time.  

With enough time, even QP could be affected by it.  

Precisely because of this, QP gradually ramped up his pressure while avoiding Execution Tennis by relentlessly firing back ultra-high-speed returns.  

His sheer foundational mastery was so extreme that even Ōmagari Ryūji’s spin shots barely slowed the ball down—it was practically negligible.  

Without any special techniques to rely on, the gap in fundamentals forced Ōmagari into purely defensive play, with no real chance to score.  

Fortunately, he was a stamina monster.  

Trained through triathlons, Ōmagari Ryūji had freakish endurance—and he was more than happy to let QP drag this out.  

When it came to stamina, he feared no one.  

But as the long rally continued, Ōmagari inevitably made mistakes.  

Like a crack in a dam, the floodgates opened—and the score began climbing rapidly.  

“Seigaku scores, 1-0!” 

... 

“Seigaku scores, 2-0!” 

... 

“Seigaku scores, 3-0!” 

...  

“Dammit, let me touch the ball! Let me touch the ball!”  

Fifteen minutes into the match, three games and twelve points in, Tōjō Atobe still hadn’t made contact with the ball once.  

His naturally volatile temper finally snapped. “Ryūji! Next game, we’re switching to dual baseline!”  

Ōmagari lazily glanced at him. Knowing Atobe’s personality, he didn’t bother arguing.  

Facing QP alone was slow suicide—their fundamentals couldn’t match his. Three straight lost games proved that.  

Stamina-wise, Ōmagari wasn’t worried, but pure skill? No chance.  

QP’s steady breathing showed he could keep this up all match.  

Maybe dual baseline would change things. Atobe was their offense, after all—keeping him sidelined wasn’t helping.  

Fourth Game. Tōjō Atobe’s serve.  

Feeling the ball in his hand, Atobe nearly teared up. Finally.  

Never in his tennis career had he been this humiliated—stuck running around like an idiot while others played.  

The only time he’d touched the ball was during Yamato’s serve, and even then, QP immediately took over.  

BAM!  

Frustration fueled his serve.  

“Yamato!” QP called.  

“Already done!” Yamato’s cheerful voice rang out.  

With a full swing, he smashed the return straight down the center.  

Atobe and Ōmagari, now in dual baseline formation, instinctively split toward opposite corners—  

Only for the ball to land cleanly on the center line and bounce out.  

“Seigaku scores, 15-0!”  

The umpire announced the point, shooting the duo a strange look.  

To most, Yamato’s shot had been basic—right down the middle. Why had they dodged it like the ball was haunted?  

But those who knew Yamato’s Misalignment Shot understood.  

BAM!  

At the sound of the ball hitting the back fence, both turned.  

“That ‘anti-habit shot’ from the data…?”  

“Damn it!” Their faces darkened.  

BAM!  

“Seigaku scores, 30-0!”  

Another Misalignment Shot.  

Even as they mentally fought their instincts, their bodies still moved the wrong way.  

Habits weren’t so easily broken.  

After prolonged exposure, the Misalignment Shot’s true power emerged—and the points piled up.  

“Seigaku scores, 4-0!” 

... 

“Seigaku scores, 5-0!” 

... 

“Shitenhōji scores, 1-5!” 

...  

By the sixth game, they finally adjusted.  

Atobe unleashed his Execution Tennis, forcing Yamato to dodge—costing them the point but avoiding injury.  

“That guy’s playing so dirty! He’s aiming right at people!”  

“Yeah! Thank god he didn’t hit the nice guy, just the creepy one.”  

“Ugly tennis.” Mitsuya Akuto muttered.  

In their match against Shitenhōji, even the Rokkaku brothers had been injured—bandages still visible.  

Takei Toshio and Kishimoto Mashō from Hyōtei suffered worse. They’d been carried here today after their match.  

On the court, seeing Execution Tennis in play, QP didn’t hesitate.  

“Glow of Experience—activate.”  

Three games of rest had been for this moment.  

1-vs-2 drained more stamina than singles, so QP had rationed wisely.  

As an eerie glow enveloped him, Byōdōin closed his eyes.  

“It’s over…”  

If base QP had crushed them, this mode left no hope.  

Against a duo like the Rokkaku brothers, they might’ve stood a chance.  

But Atobe and Ōmagari? No way.  

The score skyrocketed.  

The final game lasted under two minutes.  

“Game and match! Seigaku wins, 6-1!”  

The umpire’s whistle and declaration ignited thunderous applause.  

Seigaku’s team erupted—this win was huge. With this momentum, their championship odds soared to 90%.  

“YES! QP! Yamato! You legends!”  

“One step closer to nationals!”  

Even the kids in the crowd cheered wildly.  

“...So this is how we lose?”  

Byōdōin’s gaze fell on Trash (Kuzuryū), Shitenhōji’s Singles 2 player.  

The fate of the tournament now rested on him.  

The thought made Byōdōin’s vision darken. 

Chapter 157: An Ugly Victory—The Championship is Sealed  

Singles 2 featured Kawasaki facing off against a literal 5-star player—a true "weakling" by competitive standards.  

Judging by his talents, the guy might’ve been better off pursuing a career in cooking.  

Neither Kawasaki nor his opponent expected their match to become the decisive factor in the finals.  

Under the weight of the crowd’s gaze, both players grew visibly nervous, leading to a bizarrely sloppy game.  

Kawasaki seized an early advantage, using his Rune-Enhanced Serve to secure his service game.  

But then the mistakes piled up.  

Yoru and the rest of Seigaku’s team couldn’t even bear to watch, covering their eyes in secondhand embarrassment.  

Too used to having his messes cleaned up by others, Kawasaki—who should’ve closed out the match easily—let his own errors drag the score into a back-and-forth mess.  

Luckily, his opponent was just as bad.  

After a grueling exchange of unforced errors, Kawasaki somehow scraped out a 7-5 win.  

"Game and match! Seigaku wins, 3-0!"  

As the umpire’s whistle blew, the crowd fell into stunned silence, staring blankly at the scoreboard.  

No one was impressed—just baffled by how terrible the match had been.  

A full 30 seconds passed before the stadium finally erupted in cheers.  

"WE WON! WE’RE CHAMPIONS!!" 

"I CAN’T BELIEVE IT—WE ACTUALLY DID IT!!" 

"QP, Yamato, and Kirihara carried hard… Kawasaki? Uh… well, a win’s a win." 

"To think we’ve come this far…" 

"Back at the start of the season, I didn’t even dream of making it past regionals—AND NOW WE’RE NATIONAL CHAMPIONS?!"  

The Seigaku squad roared, tears in their eyes.  

Ryūzaki Sumire, overwhelmed, grabbed the nearest player and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.  

With a 3-0 lead, Seigaku had eliminated Shitenhōji outright—even if they forfeited the remaining two matches, the title was theirs.  

Kawasaki, Yamato, and the others collapsed into a teary, screaming group hug.  

Yoru watched with a faint smile before turning to a hesitant Kaidō and Imishi.  

"Don’t celebrate yet—we’ve still got two matches left." His voice was calm but firm. "Doubles 1 is yours. This is your last middle school match… play for yourselves."  

"YES, CAPTAIN!"  

The pressure of the championship now lifted, Kaidō and Imishi exchanged excited grins.  

Every point from here on out was a farewell to their youth.  

Seeing neither team concede, the umpire signaled: 

"Doubles 1, begin preparations!"  

On Shitenhōji’s side, Byōdōin stood silently as his players bowed their heads in apology.  

What could he even say?  

The guy in front of him was the only one who’d scored more than five points across all three matches—he’d overperformed.  

"…It’s fine." Byōdōin sighed. "We lost. No shame in that."  

The 0-3 scoreline was final.  

With nothing left to lose, Shitenhōji’s pride was now on the line.  

Byōdōin turned to Date Danji and Ban Rikiya.  

"At least don’t let them shut us out. Take one match."  

The two powerhouses nodded sharply. "We won’t lose, Captain."  

After warm-ups, the teams stepped onto the court.  

"This match is ours." Date Danji declared loudly, his voice carrying across both teams’ benches.  

"Talk big for a team that’s already lost," Kirihara muttered.  

Yoru, however, wasn’t surprised.  

Date and Ban had every right to be confident.  

In the original U-17, only three "true" doubles pairs existed:  

• #1: The Rokkaku Brothers  

• #2: Date Danji & Ban Rikiya  

• #3: Hirakoba & Shiraishi (a tier below) 

If not for specialized duos, Date/Ban were arguably the second-best traditional doubles pair in the nation.  

"Kaidō! Imishi! DO THIS!!" Yamato’s voice rang out.  

A faint +0.7 BUFF flickered above Kaidō and Imishi’s heads—their stats now even with Date/Ban’s.  

"Game start! Seigaku to serve!"  

BAM!  

Imishi’s serve was sharp, firing toward the far corner.  

"How does Seigaku train their players? Everyone’s got insane speed." Sasabe from Hyōtei muttered.  

"Their training regimen is brutal," Mitsuya Akuto interjected. "We at Rikkai tried replicating it—half the team got injured."  

Meanwhile, on the court, Date/Ban countered with a textbook cross-court winner.  

"Shitenhōji scores, 15-0!"  

"Just like QP predicted." Kaidō patted Imishi’s shoulder.  

QP’s data labeled Date/Ban as power types—strong but slow, with mediocre technique.  

This lost point was a test, and the result was clear:  

No adaptability. Pure brute force.  

No panic. No rush.  

Against power players, patience was key.  

Watching Kaidō and Imishi methodically dismantle their opponents, Yoru smiled.  

"They’ve grown… into a true national-tier doubles pair."  

Chapter 158: The Balance of Speed and Power  

BANG! BANG!  

After several intense exchanges, Date Danji seized an opening and unleashed a crushing topspin shot.  

The trajectory was ordinary—but the power wasn’t.  

Kaidō wanted to test its weight.  

He sprinted to the landing point, ignoring Banriya’s taunt:  

"Danji no Haru is a super-heavy return! Even your backline teammate wouldn’t dare take it. You, a frontcourt player? You’ll break your arm!"  

Danji no Haru.  

Date Danji’s signature move.  

In the original U-17 arc, this shot had sent Kikumaru and Kabaji flying. Its destructive force was legendary.  

Kaidō ignored the jeers.  

Planting his feet, he swung—with both hands, distributing the impact.  

CRACK!  

The moment the ball struck his racket, a monstrous force surged through his arms.  

Heavy—!  

But…  

Manageable.  

Still, Kaidō let go, allowing the racket to fly out of bounds to avoid injury.  

"30–0, Shūtei!"  

The crowd erupted.  

"That shot sent his racket flying?!"  

"Date Danji’s a beast! Look at those muscles!"  

"Even a two-handed grip couldn’t stop it? Insane!"  

The spectacle left everyone buzzing.  

Banriya smirked. "Told you not to overestimate yourself."  

Pride swelled in his chest. Though he couldn’t master Danji no Haru himself, seeing Date execute it flawlessly was its own victory.  

From the sidelines, Oni Jūjirō narrowed his eyes. "Interesting technique. The weight transfer is innovative… but the user’s raw strength is lacking."  

Yoru resisted the urge to roll his eyes. (Only a freak like you would call Date "weak.")  

Aloud, he shrugged. "Relax. Kaidō and Imishi won’t let us down."  

Among Seigaku’s roster, the two boasted the highest win rates after the "Big Three." Their reliability was unquestionable.  

On the Court  

"You okay?" Imishi hurried forward.  

Kaidō shook his head. "I can handle it. But we’ll need Synchro to counter. Ready?"  

"Let’s go."  

Their fists met—and in that instant, light erupted.  

Twin streams of milky-white aura linked them, their synergy amplifying their stats from 0.7 to 1.7—a full 7-star combat rating.  

"What the—?!"  

Date and Banriya stiffened, but quickly steadied themselves. They’d known about the Synchro in advance.  

Danji no Haru grew stronger with each strike. They wouldn’t back down.  

Counterattack  

BANG!  

Imishi’s serve, now turbocharged by Synchro, blitzed past Date before he could react.  

"15–30!"  

Shūtei’s players paled.  

An ACE?! Just from activating Synchro?!  

"DATE!" Banriya glared.  

"Sorry! Won’t happen again!"  

But the next serve was just as fierce. Date barely returned it—weakly.  

Seizing the chance, Kaidō whipped out his Boomerang Snake Shot, the ball curving sharply to land on the sideline.  

"30–all!"  

The Atsushi brothers (Rokkaku’s elite doubles pair) gaped.  

"Their Synchro patched the Boomerang’s speed flaw?!"  

"They improved this fast?!"  

Momentum Shift  

"40–30!"  

Kaidō nailed a slick volley, exploiting Banriya’s overcommitment to the sideline.  

"Game! Seigaku leads, 1–0!"  

Date grimaced.  

Speed wasn’t their forte. Against Synchro-boosted reflexes, setting up Danji no Haru was nearly impossible.  

Second Game: Shūtei’s Serve  

Date exhaled, then launched a missile.  

His serve wasn’t just fast—it carried the weight of a sledgehammer.  

Imishi scrambled, waiting for the ball to peak before swinging. Even with Synchro, the impact rattled his bones.  

His return was shaky.  

Banriya pounced, smashing a brutal volley straight at Kaidō.  

At close range, blocking it was a nightmare. Kaidō barely deflected it—  

—only for Banriya to fire a crosscourt winner on the next touch.  

"15–0!"  

Inoue chuckled from the benches. "Looks like a stalemate~"  

Chapter 159: Hard-Fought Victory—Yoru Stops Showing Off?  

Just as Inui had predicted...  

Both pairs seemed trapped in an endless loop—each dominating their own service games but struggling to break the other’s.  

Idate Otoko and Ban Rikiya couldn’t handle the speed of Kaidou Shu and Konishi Senzui.  

Meanwhile, Kaidou and Konishi had no answer for their opponents’ overwhelming power.  

Even knowing it was a deadlock, the match had to go on—and so they persisted!  

BANG—!  

Amid this clash of speed versus power, the score raced forward relentlessly.  

"Mizuno Academy scores, 1-1!" 

... 

"Seigaku scores, 3-2!" 

... 

"Mizuno Academy scores, 4-4!" 

... 

"Seigaku scores, 6-5!"  

After a grueling hour-long battle, the score stood at 6-6—forcing a tiebreak!  

Though Synchro Mode drastically improved Kaidou and Konishi’s muscle efficiency, it came at a cost.  

Their stamina was draining at an alarming rate. Without the Endurance Runes, they would’ve collapsed long ago.  

Neither side could afford even a single mistake—one lost serve could mean total defeat.  

Kaidou and Konishi gasped for air, sweat pouring like a flood from their brows, dripping off their chins.  

Their chests heaved violently, muscles trembling uncontrollably, eyes bloodshot—classic signs of system overload.  

On the other side of the court...  

Idate and Ban weren’t faring much better.  

Their condition was similar, though slightly less severe. Yet their arms were visibly swollen—pushed to the limit from endlessly slamming power shots.  

BANG—! BANG—! BANG—!  

The battle raged on, the score climbing rapidly—7-7… 12-12… 18-17.  

Now, it was Ban Rikiya’s serve.  

BANG!  

Konishi gritted his teeth, forcing his exhausted body to return the heavy shot.  

Both pairs were running on fumes, their performance a shadow of what it once was—only sheer will kept them standing.  

The return was weak. Ban seized the chance for a net intercept—a move that had tormented Kaidou and Konishi all match.  

To break this stalemate, they had to return it perfectly.  

"I... I really... want to win!"  

"I want to stand with Konishi... as true champion doubles!"  

Kaidou roared as he swung his racket.  

Even if Seigaku won the championship, how could they call themselves champions if they lost here?  

They had to win—for three years of dreams, they couldn’t lose now!  

The racket struck the ball—  

But at that moment, Synchro Mode shattered. Their condition visibly plummeted.  

"This is bad!" Yamato clenched the railing, eyes locked on the court.  

QP, however, smirked. "Bad? Kaidou and Konishi gave everything. People like that don’t lose."  

BANG—!  

A deafening impact echoed across the court.  

Idate and Ban’s faces twisted in shock.  

They thought Kaidou and Konishi would be helpless without Synchro—yet they still countered!  

And the return was flawless.  

"Go—carry our dream to victory!"  

After the swing, Kaidou collapsed to the ground, completely spent.  

A golden streak shot past Ban, dodged Idate’s desperate lunge, and landed squarely on the baseline.  

BEEEP—!  

"Match over! Final score 19-17—Seigaku wins!"  

The whistle pierced the air.  

"How...?"  

Ban’s earlier arrogance was gone. He exchanged stunned glances with Idate, unable to believe they’d lost to "nobodies."  

"Kaidou!" Konishi rushed over, pulling his partner up. Seeing Kaidou still conscious, he screamed with all his strength—  

"WE WON!"  

The stadium fell silent.  

Every eye was locked on Kaidou and Konishi, disbelief hanging in the air—they’d pulled off a miracle return at the last moment.  

"They won... Kaidou and Konishi actually WON!"  

"FOUR STRAIGHT VICTORIES! Seigaku just made history—the most wins in a national finals EVER!"  

"WE DID IT! WE ACTUALLY WON!"  

"Unbelievable... They really beat Idate and Ban—the 'invincible' doubles pair!"  

The arena erupted.  

Deafening cheers surged like tidal waves, shaking the stands.  

Seigaku’s team, especially, was in a frenzy—eyes wide, faces flushed with exhilaration.  

Before the match, most had written this doubles pair off as hopeless underdogs.  

Yet here they were—victorious.  

In just one week, Kaidou and Konishi had transformed.  

They endured brutal training, refined their techniques, and crafted the perfect strategy—all for this moment.  

But the most shocked person of all?  

Yoru.  

He never imagined that two nameless background characters from the original story could—  

With the help of Runes and their own relentless effort—defeat a powerhouse pair like Idate and Ban.  

Throughout the Nationals, these two had defied expectations at every turn.  

And now, they’d done it again—proving their worth when it mattered most.  

This match would be etched into history, a legend in its own right.  

Kaidou and Konishi had earned their fame.  

"USELESS!"  

Byoudouin Houou slammed his fist into the railing, fury burning in his eyes.  

4-0.  

A scoreline never before seen in Nationals history.  

Even if he won his match now, this humiliation would follow him forever—a laughingstock for years to come.  

The team he’d built with such care... was now a national disgrace.  

He’d rather have lost in the first round than suffer this!  

"Seigaku...!"  

Byoudouin stood, glaring at Seigaku’s bench.  

Four straight losses.  

Even after the overall match was decided at 3-0, they’d forced one more defeat onto him.  

His pride had been stomped into the dirt.  

"My turn."  

Yoru rose, draping his jacket over his seat.  

The entire Seigaku team blinked in surprise—  

Their captain... wasn’t putting on his usual act? 

Chapter 160: The Shockwave of the Light Ball  

Here he comes!  

As Ryoma Yoru stood up, the entire stadium buzzed with excitement.  

Girls screamed, fans cheered, and Seigaku’s team roared in support. The media immediately swung their cameras toward him. Players from other schools straightened in their seats, eyes locked onto Yoru—after all, he was the only player at the Nationals who didn’t bother with warm-ups.  

"Finally… the clash between last year’s strongest and this year’s dark horse. The ultimate battle."  

"Yoru, huh? I wonder if he can actually defeat Byodoin."  

"This is the singles-1 match. Can Byodoin salvage the last shred of dignity for Rokkaku, or will Yoru sweep him away?"  

"No matter who wins, Seigaku will be remembered. And so will Rokkaku—this kind of score difference has never happened before."  

Whispers spread among the spectators, their faces alight with anticipation.  

The moment Yoru stepped onto the court, an overwhelming aura surged outward, making the very ground tremble.  

"Ryoma…"  

In the stands, a sunglasses-wearing Western woman gasped in shock.  

The pressure was so intense that most people felt their breath hitch. Byodoin Houou, standing directly in its path, tensed up.  

The two had never faced each other before. But from Ryoma’s descriptions of the exhibition matches and that encounter with Oni Juujirou, it was clear Yoru was no ordinary player.  

Still, Byodoin hadn’t expected this level of dominance.  

Yoru walked calmly to the center of the court, locking eyes with Byodoin. "Step up, Byodoin Houou."  

As soon as he spoke, the suffocating pressure vanished.  

Spectators gasped for air—even rival players struggled. Strangely, only the younger kids seemed unaffected, looking around in confusion.  

Oni Juujirou narrowed his eyes. "Yoru’s control over his aura is terrifying."  

The fact that only children remained unharmed proved Yoru’s mastery over his presence.  

"Ryoma has always had exceptional mental fortitude. It gives him a natural edge in aura control. But…" Q.P. turned to Byodoin, his expression grave. "What worries me more is Byodoin Houou."  

Oni frowned. "Should we really be concerned? If it’s Yoru, he shouldn’t have trouble winning."  

"No." Q.P. cut him off sharply. "Ryoma loves showmanship. Even against us, he played with his jacket on. But now? He took it off and preemptively suppressed Byodoin with his aura."  

A chill ran down Oni’s spine. "You mean… Byodoin’s gotten stronger?"  

There was another detail Q.P. didn’t voice.  

Before the match, Yoru had made Yamato say a few morale-boosting words.  

Combined with Yoru’s ability to see talent and strength…  

It meant Byodoin Houou had likely undergone a monstrous evolution—one that forced Yoru to take this match deadly seriously.  

Byodoin strode onto the court, beginning his warm-up routine.  

In the player’s area, Tezuka—tasked with recording the match—quickly set up his camera. He, too, noticed the subtle differences in Yoru’s demeanor.  

This wasn’t just another match.  

This was going to be a war.  

Tezuka’s emotions were conflicted.  

Part of him feared Yoru might lose—after all, Byodoin was his idol.  

Yet another part secretly hoped someone would finally push Yoru to his limits.  

In the stands, Tanegashima murmured, "Everyone… brace yourselves. What you’re about to witness might be the greatest match of our middle school careers."  

After warm-ups, Byodoin took his position.  

The moment he stepped onto the court, a tsunami of violent aura erupted.  

"Trying to intimidate me?"  

Yoru smirked, unleashing his own pressure—a regal, suffocating gaze that made instinctive fear crawl up the spines of onlookers.  

The collision of their auras made the air itself tremble. Glass fixtures rattled violently.  

After a few seconds, Byodoin reached the center. Both auras shattered simultaneously.  

They stood, facing each other.  

"I’ll win this. Prepare to lose." Byodoin’s voice was ice-cold.  

The aura clash had been even on the surface, but deep down, he knew he’d been outmatched.  

Yet he had to protect Rokkaku’s last shred of pride.  

Yoru didn’t respond.  

He always found this part ridiculously cringey.  

The referee, seeing no further exchange, blew his whistle.  

"National Finals—Seigaku vs. Rokkaku! Singles-1 match begins! Byodoin Houou to serve!"  

The two retreated to their baselines—one winding up for the serve, the other crouching into a defensive stance.  

"Yoru…"  

Trash talk aside, Byodoin wasn’t foolish enough to underestimate him. He’d warmed up thoroughly.  

Thud… thud… thud…  

The ball bounced rhythmically against the court. Byodoin’s focus sharpened with each impact.  

Once he felt ready—  

Snap!  

He caught the ball mid-bounce.  

And then—  

A blinding golden light erupted from his fingertips.  

"What the—?!"  

In the stands, Tanegashima shot to his feet, eyes wide.  

"What’s wrong?" Munehiro and the others looked confused.  

"That’s…" Inui’s voice was tight. "The Light Ball—a technique bordering on the Otherworldly tier. I never thought Byodoin had reached this level. Didn’t he use it in previous matches?"  

The others shook their heads. The concept of "Otherworldly" techniques was foreign to most middle schoolers.  

Due to technological limitations, many pro-level techniques with flashy visual effects looked ordinary on TV. That’s why live matches were a different experience entirely.  

Tanegashima and Inui had learned about the Light Ball and the "Otherworldly" tier after watching pro matches in person.  

But for a middle schooler to wield it?  

Unthinkable.  

On the court, the glowing ball soared into the air.  

"Yoru… don’t die on me now!"  

Byodoin roared as he swung—  

"This is the Light Ball!"  

The moment his racket connected, the world exploded in golden fury.