121-125

Chapter 121: Kirihara’s "Depression"; Q.P. vs. Ralph  

The applause grew louder around the court—especially from female spectators, their cheers nearly making Kirihara lose his composure (and not just mentally).  

But the distraction threw off his rhythm.  

With Hopkins still struggling under pressure, an overzealous Kirihara activated his Hyper-Speed Mode, drastically increasing his scoring efficiency at the cost of stamina.  

It worked—for a while.  

The score climbed to an impressive 5-1.  

Then, disaster struck in the seventh game.  

Stamina collapse.  

Having triggered Hyper-Speed too early, Kirihara’s energy reserves were drained dry by the third game. By the seventh, he could barely maintain the technique.  

Then came the real killer: his old injury.  

The ankle injury—originally sustained in a brawl at Hōsen Academy—should’ve healed long ago. Yet here it was, flaring up mid-match.  

To most, it seemed like bad luck. But Yoru saw the truth.  

Hopkins had a "Trauma Vision" ability—an uncanny knack for identifying past injuries, even fully healed ones. A Prince of Tennis version of The Good Doctor.  

Once he spotted Kirihara’s weak ankle, he spent the entire match hammering low, right-side shots, forcing Kirihara into repeated half-squat returns. The strain on the old injury eventually became unbearable.  

By the fourth point of the seventh game, Kirihara could barely walk, let alone run.  

Final score: 7-5, with Hopkins claiming six straight games.  

As the match ended, Yamato rushed to support a limping Kirihara off the court. Even Ryoma and Tezuka’s eyes flickered with concern.  

Hopkins approached casually. "Don’t worry. It’s just temporary stress on the joint. Rest will fix it."  

The group sighed in relief—except Yoru, who muttered, "With that talent, why not become a doctor instead of playing tennis?"  

Athletes with medical knowledge were borderline cheaters.  

He recalled a news story from his past life: a college basketball match between Traditional Medicine Majors and Civil Engineering Students.  

Final score: 72-28.  

Post-game, one civil engineering player complained: "That guy pinched my acupressure points mid-dunk!"  

Moral of the story: Never piss off med students.  

Yoru shot Kirihara a deadpan stare. "Horniness is your downfall. A few cheers and you lose all focus—even pitched a tent mid-match. Do you have Hyper-Libido Syndrome or what?"  

"Depression? But..." Yamato studied Kirihara’s dazed expression. "He doesn’t look depressed?"  

"Yamato." 

"Yeah?" 

"I said ‘excessive desire, not —depression. Keep reading those books instead of googling." 

"Oh! R-right..."  

QP vs. Ralph 

After several matches, the showdown everyone awaited finally arrived.  

"Next match: Team Leader Ralph Reinhardt versus Q.P.!"  

At the referee’s call, both men stepped onto the court—prompting murmurs as the crowd noticed their shared European heritage.  

Byōdōin muttered, "So this is the foreign ace from Seigaku..."  

Seigaku’s upset over Rikkai’s 13-year championship streak had made waves nationwide. Even in Kansai, rumors spread about their "overseas recruit."  

Center Court  

After warm-ups, the two shook hands.  

Ralph smiled. "I thought you looked familiar yesterday. You’re the prodigy dubbed ‘Masterpiece’ by Germany’s elite clubs, aren’t you? I’ve read your dossier."  

"Hello."  

The socially awkward Q.P. fumbled for a response before settling on: "Looking forward to our match."  

Ralph nodded.  

Serve: Q.P.  

As the challenger, Q.P. took first serve.  

Kirihara, now bandaged but still energetic, turned to Yoru. "Captain, Ryoma said you played Ralph last night. What was the score?"  

The question piqued everyone’s interest—including eavesdropping Byōdōin and Tetsujin.  

Before Yoru could answer, Ryoma chirped: "6-0~ I’ve never seen niisan lose a single game to anyone except oyaji."  

"As expected."  

The group nodded like this was common knowledge. Meanwhile, Byōdōin’s brow furrowed.  

A U17 national leader… couldn’t score even once against a middle school captain? Was Ralph a fraud?  

Yamato pressed further. "Between Q.P. and Ralph, who’s stronger?"  

"Hard to say. Ralph’s got better odds now."  

Yoru shook his head.  

It wasn’t about raw stats. At full power, Q.P.’s extracted Kōki could push him beyond 10-star combat ability.  

But therein lay the problem.  

Before last night’s match, Q.P. and Ralph would’ve been 50-50. In a prolonged battle, Ralph’s adaptability might’ve tipped the scales.  

Now?  

Thanks to their spar, Ralph had evolved again. His baseline stats now matched mid-tier pros, let alone his in-match growth potential.  

Current odds: 60-40, favoring Ralph. If the match dragged on, Q.P.’s chances would plummet further.  

"Poor Q.P.," Yoru sighed.  

The "early-bloomer advantage" was brutal in this transitional era of tennis. Talent mattered, but biological timing—dictated by lifestyle and genetics—was uncontrollable.  

The Match Begins 

BANG! BANG! BANG!  

Three consecutive sonic booms erupted as Q.P. unleashed his serve—a basic flat shot with monstrous speed, crossing the net in a blink.  

Yet Ralph intercepted it.  

"Too fast!" Byōdōin’s pupils contracted.  

He’d seen trick-based "super serves" before, but none matched Q.P.’s raw, technique-less velocity.  

The third BANG was Ralph’s return—grunting as the ball writhed against his racket strings like a live thing.  

"Scary stuff. Good thing I did my homework on you," Ralph chuckled, heaving the ball back.  

The comment caught Byōdōin’s attention.  

Homework? Is Q.P. some kind of legend?  

He made a mental note to research Q.P. later.  

BANG! BANG! BANG!  

The two traded supersonic rallies, reaching ten exchanges before Q.P. suddenly stopped mid-swing.  

The ball landed millimeters outside the line—a visual illusion made it seem in.  

The umpire called "Ralph’s point", but Q.P. immediately challenged.  

Tokyo Tennis Park lacked Hawk-Eye, but the U.S. team had brought their own system.  

Replay confirmed: OUT. By a data cable’s width.  

"Insane judgment..." Byōdōin’s voice tightened.  

He turned to Tetsujin. "We need to adjust our recruitment plans."  

Chapter 122: The Phoenix Falls Silent  

The three Seigaku players who had taken the court so far were each more terrifying than the last.  

Compared to them, Yamato’s performance seemed almost mediocre.  

Kirihara’s displayed strength surpassed even Tetsujin’s.  

And now, QP stood on the court.  

Though only one point had been played, the sheer presence radiating from both players was enough to unsettle anyone watching.  

That last shot—even if he had been on the court, scoring off it wouldn’t have been easy.  

"Ralph, you’re strong."  

QP’s voice was solemn as he stared across the net. "I won’t waste time."  

Huh?  

Ralph Reinhardt blinked in confusion.  

But in the next second, he witnessed something that would haunt him like constipation.  

A ghostly aura flickered around QP’s body—visible even under the blazing sun.  

"Ah?"  

"OH SHIT—"  

Ralph’s mind short-circuited.  

Yesterday, I got wrecked by this same technique. Now I have to face it AGAIN?!  

Off-Court Reactions  

Ryoma pointed excitedly. "Big bro! He’s using the same ‘state’ as you! Who copied who?!"  

Yoru ruffled his hair. "We’re just walking the same path."  

Copying? Pfft. Know your place, little pony~  

Chikako Baliantyin’s eyes widened. "Yoru… You and QP share the same growth trajectory?"  

"Didn’t see it last night. Perfect timing to witness it today."  

Dudu Obando cracked his knuckles, grinning at Hopkins. "Your turn to babysit Ryoma~"  

"Unnecessary."  

Yoru’s voice was flat. "My brother isn’t that stupid."  

He already learned his lesson yesterday. Repeating it would be pathetic.  

Ryoma tilted his head. "...Are you complimenting me? Feels weird."  

"Of course. You’re the genius of the Echizen family."  

(A/N: Baby Ryoma’s still adorably clueless.)  

Phoenix’s Silent Crisis  

Byakuya Kujō’s frown deepened.  

He’d already held QP in high regard, but this level was unexpected. That eerie glow alone made his instincts scream danger.  

And judging by their banter, Yoru was cut from the same cloth.  

Seigaku’s strength is monstrous.  

Yamato. Kirihara. QP. And now Yoru—an enigma exuding overwhelming aura.  

If current Rikkai faced them without perfect lineup adjustments…  

A straight 3-0 sweep wouldn’t be impossible.  

Beside him, Tetsujin wore a similarly grave expression.  

As Rikkai’s future captain, Phoenix had drilled leadership into him—including how to assess threats.  

Today’s observation was crucial. Without it, they’d have underestimated Seigaku’s terror.  

Nationals are still far off. There’s time to adapt.  

Tetsujin hesitated, then whispered: "Captain… Maybe we should prioritize power over ‘philosophy fits’ for new recruits."  

Normally, Phoenix would’ve shut that down instantly.  

But now?  

Silence.  

Because he knew—Tetsujin was right. To secure Rikkai’s back-to-back championship, they needed raw strength.  

The Match Intensifies  

BANG—!  

BANG—!  

With Twin Auras active, QP bulldozed Ralph into a corner, racking up points at breakneck speed.  

"QP scores! 1-0!" 

"QP scores! 2-0!" 

"QP scores! 3-0!"  

…  

"QP scores! 4-0!"  

Only ten minutes in, QP dominated.  

But he didn’t relax.  

Because by Game 3, Ralph had started adapting—blocking shots (poorly, but still).  

By Game 4?  

Ralph’s returns gained teeth, trading blows with QP for full rallies before losing.  

Each loss showcased visible growth—chilling Phoenix further.  

And Yoru shut this monster out 6-0?!  

Ralph’s Revelation  

"Same form, but Yoru version hits harder."  

Ralph panted, drenched yet grinning. "Guess technique potency scales with base stats!"  

QP, locked in hyper-focus, didn’t process the taunt.  

The battle escalated.  

BANG—!  

"QP scores! 5-0!"  

…  

BANG—!  

"Ralph Reinhardt scores! 2-5!"  

The Turning Point  

From Game 6 onward, Ralph fully adjusted—matching QP blow-for-blow, even pressing him.  

The match stretched to 6-6, hurtling into a tiebreaker.  

Kirihara frowned. "Captain… How is QP’s stamina holding up? Shouldn’t his ‘state’ drain him?"  

"It does. Just minimally."  

Yoru eyed the group. "You’re misunderstanding. This isn’t a ‘mode’—it’s refined experience feeding back into real-time play. The only ‘cost’ is mental focus and muscle efficiency deception. Sustain it, and you could theoretically go indefinitely."  

"Post-match recovery takes longer, but in-game? No drop-off."  

Gulp.  

Awed silence.  

Meanwhile, Phoenix and Tetsujin internally screamed at this intel.  

The Final Tally  

41-39.  

QP lost.  

Yoru sighed. "Pity. ‘Indomitable Radiance’ would’ve sealed it. But we’ll need Oni Juujiro for that."  

(A/N: "Indomitable Radiance" = Gōki no Hikari, the rarest aura. Only Oni (and maybe Nanjiroh) possess it canonically.)  

Realistically?  

QP vs. Nanjiroh = death.  

And current Oni hasn’t awakened his yet—in canon, it triggers during U17’s Byodoin match, then gets sealed until Kintarō reignites it.  

No shortcuts here.  

Yoru refused to let his thoroughbred stagnate. Stat growth alone? Boring.  

So while QP hunted for Gōki candidates, Yoru worked behind the scenes.  

Post-Match  

QP staggered off, pale and drenched. "Apologies. I failed."  

Yoru channeled Walter’s cadence: "No matter. Battling Ralph is the path to perfection."  

Ralph approached, exhaling. "That match fixed so many gaps. I feel—"  

Then he remembered last night’s trauma and snapped his mouth shut.  

Chapter 123: A Match One Year Ahead  

Three days later.  

Ralph and his crew returned home, dragging their undefeated record behind them like a trophy.  

Before their departure, Yoru—who was helping them check their flight details—found himself suddenly ambushed by Ralph, who gleefully tackled him from behind, pressing his chest against Yoru’s head and ruffling his hair aggressively.  

Even through clothing, Yoru swore he could feel the attack of Ralph’s chest hair.  

And the body odor? God.  

Being a Virgo, Yoru nearly passed out on the spot from the assault. The moment he got home, he dumped half a bottle of shampoo on his head just to cleanse the memory away.  

Life returned to normal.  

Seigaku’s team threw themselves into intense training.  

One amusing incident during this time: Kawasaki’s former doubles partner, Nishimura Komugi, dropped out of school. Rumor had it he transferred to St. Rudolph.  

Honestly? Probably for the best.  

After the team cuts, Nishimura’s standing in the tennis club had plummeted, and he’d even faced outright ostracization.  

Sure, he brought it on himself—but bad luck played a part too.  

Back then, Yoru, fresh off his return from abroad, had needed to make an example out of someone.  

Nishimura just happened to walk right into the line of fire.  

The wake-up call from Ralph and his crew had also humbled Seigaku’s pride over their Kantō championship.  

Both Kirihara and Yamato threw themselves into training with renewed determination.  

Kirihara’s growth was especially noticeable. Thanks to hitting a rapid growth spurt, his physical stats skyrocketed, pushing his overall rating to the mid-tier of 8-star level.  

Okayama Town 

Lakeside  

Juujirou Oni was using tennis balls to "fish"—smacking them into the water to stun fish, which he and the local kids would later grill and eat.  

Then—  

A blinding streak of light slammed into the lake from the side, sending a massive wave crashing toward the children. Mixed in were sharp, scattered fragments.  

Realizing the danger, Oni immediately lunged in front of the kids, shielding them from the debris-laced water.  

"Oni-nii, are you okay?!"  

The children gasped, noticing the tears in his clothes.  

"I’m fine. Stay behind me."  

Oni pulled them protectively to his back, his expression darkening as two uninvited guests strolled forward.  

The first—a blindfolded teen—spoke first.  

"Two years ago, the legendary captain who led an unknown school to a national championship… and now, he’s hiding in a place like this."  

The second, a blond, glanced at the dead fish floating in the lake.  

"We meant to bring the kids a gift. Guess I put too much power into it."  

"...What do you want?"  

Normally, Oni would’ve already thrown fists at anyone threatening the kids. But with them present, he held back.  

That serve just now… the blond was strong. At least on par with him.  

The blond twirled his racket.  

"Introductions. My name is Byoudouin Houou, captain of Rokkaku’s tennis team. I’m here to invite you to join us—and take the national title together."  

Originally, Oni hadn’t been on Houou’s recruitment list.  

Sure, the guy was strong—leading a no-name school to nationals as a first-year was insane. But after winning, he’d abandoned his team to play "orphanage dad" in the middle of nowhere. That kind of attitude didn’t align with Rokkaku’s philosophy.  

But after witnessing that exhibition match, Houou had revised his standards.  

Philosophy be damned. Raw strength was enough.  

"If you join, the school will cover your housing and tuition."  

Oni didn’t hesitate. "Not interested. Leave."  

Houou expected the refusal.  

A powerhouse like Oni, willingly giving up glory to rot in an orphanage? No way he’d be swayed by words alone.  

"The national stage isn’t like it was two years ago. The competition’s fiercer now."  

"Seigaku’s got at least two players on your level this year. You must be itching for a challenge."  

Strong players craved rivals. Houou understood that drive.  

But he’d miscalculated.  

"Yoru and QP, huh."  

Houou blinked. He hadn’t expected Oni to know them.  

Then again, the news of Rikkai’s 13-year streak being broken had gone national.  

But the next words—coming from the kids—caught both Houou and his companion (Tetsujin Fuwa) completely off guard.  

"They’re Oni-nii’s friends! If he wanted to join a team, he’d pick Yoru-nii’s school, not some weird ‘Rokkaku’ place!"  

"Yeah! You guys look like bad guys anyway!"  

(Houou was objectively handsome, but his demeanor screamed "menace," and Fuwa’s resting villain face didn’t help.)  

Houou smirked and raised his racket.  

"Fine. Let’s settle it with a match. If I win, you come with me. If you win, we leave."  

Then, preempting refusal—  

"I almost hurt these kids earlier. Don’t you want payback? Unless you’d rather admit you’re a coward in front of them."  

The taunt worked.  

Oni’s pride flared. "Ten minutes. Okayama Tennis Park."  

"See you there."  

Houou and Fuwa walked off.  

Only once they were gone did Oni exhale, turning to the kids.  

Before he could speak, one little girl piped up:  

"Oni-nii… you totally fell for it. They tricked you!"  

Oni ruffled her hair. "Only way to make sure they don’t come back is to crush them."  

He led the kids back to grab his racket.  

Somewhere, Yoru would’ve facepalmed.  

"How do you fall for such an obvious bait? Did all your brain cells turn into muscle?"  

But fate had a funny way of twisting things.  

A match that should’ve happened a year later…  

…had just been moved up, thanks to the butterfly effect.  

Chapter 124: Oni Juujirou VS Byoudouin Houou  

(More and more characters are reaching 10-star power levels, and some readers are worried if Nanjirou’s 20-star rating might not hold up. But there’s no need to overthink it—I’ve planned the entire book’s power scaling carefully, and it won’t spiral out of control. Besides, Nanjirou is a permanent 20-star.)  

(I’ve mentioned before that as star ratings increase, the gap between levels widens exponentially. Most ATP top-20 pros cap at 18 in their stats, with 19 being extremely rare. Stats (goryoku) are also a way I convey power scaling.)  

(In the original series, Volk defeated the world No. 1 at just 17. Nanjirou retired before even reaching that pinnacle. So the gap between 19 and 20 stars is the "gate" I’ve been foreshadowing—a chasm as vast as the sum of all previous levels combined. No need to fret.)  

Ding-a-ling!  

Seigaku. 

Training grounds.  

A phone rang. Yoru checked the screen—the caller ID read "Oni Juujirou."  

It was Oni calling.  

Before leaving last time, Yoru had left his number, telling Oni to contact him in case of emergencies. It’d also make it easier to visit the kids later.  

Yoru answered. "Yo~ Oni, what’s up?"  

But the voice on the other end wasn’t Oni’s—it was a sweet, childish tone. "Yoru onii-chan?"  

"…Sakura?"  

Yoru recognized her instantly.  

Why? Because Sakura had left the strongest impression on him that day—the undisputed IQ queen among the kids.  

"Eh?!"  

"Yoru onii-chan remembers me?! Yay~!"  

Sakura cheered but quickly remembered her mission. "Ah! Onii-chan, I stole Oni’s phone to call you! Two bad guys came to the home and challenged Oni to a match!"  

"Two bad guys?"  

Yoru’s eyebrow twitched.  

Who’d dare pick a fight with Oni Juujirou? At this point, barely anyone could rival him. Why would Sakura even need to call?  

"What do they look like?"  

"One has blond hair and a headband! The other wears a blindfold!"  

"The blond one’s super scary! He hit a glowing ball that exploded and killed fish in the lake!"  

Byoudouin Houou.  

Blond hair. Headband. Glowing tennis balls. That was literally Byoudouin’s signature aesthetic.  

"Where are they playing?"  

After getting the address, Yoru hung up.  

He handed Seigaku’s team duties to Yamato and rushed off with QP in tow.  

Along the way, Yoru wondered if this was a butterfly effect. Originally, these two shouldn’t have met until U-17’s first-year matches.  

But logically, it had to be the butterfly effect.  

Having pieced it together, Yoru grumbled internally: "Goddamn butterfly effect—why can’t it bring me Liu Yifei instead?"  

[System: …..]  

"Yo~ Giving birth again?"  

[System: I do have wife-reward quests in my permissions. Just figured you’re too young. Want me to issue a child bride quest now?]  

"Tch. What else are you hiding? Got an Athena? Y’know, the Saint Seiya one."  

[If you want someone normal, I’ll issue the quest. If you’re wishing on a star, just reincarnate and pray for a better system.]  

"Would I even reincarnate?"  

[Unlikely. If you die, I’m out of a job too.]  

"Then why even bring it up? Skip the quest—I’m not into dating kids. Maybe when I’m older."  

[System: …..]  

After teasing the system, Yoru’s mind shifted to the match.  

Would this fight trigger Oni’s Samurai’s Pledge reset? If so, he might actually gather all three Lights before QP returned.  

Okayama Town 

Okayama Tennis Park  

The kids followed Oni Juujirou to the arranged location.  

Fuwa Hitoshi was already perched on the referee’s stand, while Byoudouin sat cross-legged at the baseline, waiting.  

"Took you long enough."  

Byoudouin stood, dusting off his pants. "Ten-minute warm-up."  

"……"  

Oni didn’t respond. After settling the kids, he began stretching.  

That glowing ball earlier proved Byoudouin wasn’t some amateur. He might even be on par with QP.  

As for Yoru…  

Oni still had trauma from that match. He’d genuinely thought he was gonna die.  

"Serve!"  

Once warm-ups ended, Byoudouin spun his racket.  

"Heads!"  

Clack. The racket landed—tails.  

Byoudouin to serve.  

"Game start!"  

No formalities. Fuwa’s voice cut through the air.  

Service box.  

Byoudouin didn’t bounce the ball. He pinched it between his fingers.  

Then—light erupted.  

A tiny sun shot skyward as he tossed it.  

"That glowing ball again…"  

Oni tightened his grip, muscles coiling.  

Byoudouin leaped, racket flashing like a blade.  

"Starting with Glowing Shot?!"  

Fuwa’s breath hitched.  

He knew Byoudouin took this seriously—but this seriously?  

Opening with his ultimate technique?  

BOOM!  

A deafening explosion rocked the court.  

The kids flinched, stumbling back.  

"Careful. This ball kills."  

Byoudouin’s eyes burned with madness.  

A pillar of light tore through the court.  

Before the ball arrived, the shockwave hit.  

Oni’s clothes whipped violently. His skin screamed in protest.  

"Let’s see how strong you really are!"  

Pain ignited Oni’s fury.  

With a roar, he charged forward, driving through the shockwave.  

Both hands on the racket, he jumped—  

Center of Gravity Vertical Jump Smash!  

Full-body power collided with the Glowing Shot.  

On impact, Oni’s arms shook.  

Heavy.  

The Glowing Shot wasn’t just raw force—it carried monstrous spin.  

The racket’s strings groaned, fraying visibly.  

"RETURN IT—OOORGH!"  

Oni’s bellow shook the air. His already terrifying strength surged.  

CRACK!  

The ball rocketed back at Byoudouin.  

"WHAT?!"  

Byoudouin’s mind blanked.  

His technique—never countered head-on before—was just swatted back?!  

The delay cost him. The ball blurred toward his face—  

Byoudouin barely twisted aside in time.  

KABOOM!  

The back fence caved inward, steel screeching.  

At the same time—snap!  

The kids gasped. "O-Oni… onii-chan?"  

Fuwa whipped around—and choked.  

Oni stood gripping a shattered racket, the other half lying meters away.  

Chapter 125: Destruction – A Sudden Turn  

Gulp.  

Fuwa Tetsujin swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he announced, "O-Oni Juujirou scores... 15-0!"  

The call snapped Byoudouin Houou out of his daze.  

Staring at the shattered remains of his racket, he felt a mix of satisfaction and shock.  

His Hadoukyuu (Light Strike) had been overpowered—brute-forced back by sheer physical strength alone.  

No technique. No finesse.  

Just raw, unrelenting power.  

Houou took a deep breath. "Another monster, huh?"  

Before the match, Hadoukyuu had filled him with confidence. Now? Doubt crept in.  

Two years ago, Houou had been a freshman following his upperclassmen in Nationals, watching as Rokkaku fell to another school.  

Meanwhile, Oni Juujirou—a nobody from an unknown school—had single-handedly carried his team to a national championship.  

Houou had never forgotten that image.  

He’d expected to face Oni the following year after becoming captain... only for the man to vanish from the competitive scene entirely.  

After winning Nationals himself last year, Houou had dismissed Oni as a relic of the past.  

How strong could someone be after a year without high-level matches?  

Turns out—very.  

"So this is the man who carried a team to Nationals alone..." Fuwa muttered, awestruck.  

Meanwhile, Oni frowned at his broken racket.  

A trusted companion for four or five years—gone in an instant.  

He’d underestimated Hadoukyuu’s destructive force and overestimated his racket’s durability.  

Normally, he used heavier, sturdier frames to match his strength. But today, he’d grabbed the one he usually played with the kids.  

Grimacing, he pulled out a backup and resumed his stance.  

BOOM!  

Houou didn’t hesitate. Another Hadoukyuu tore across the court, its sheer rotational force and weight defying conventional physics.  

Oni met it head-on.  

With his heavier racket, he could finally unleash his full strength.  

CRACK!  

The ball rocketed back.  

This time, Houou intercepted it mid-flight, his arms straining as he channeled Hadoukyuu again—redirecting the same destructive force back.  

"What?!" Oni’s eyes widened.  

Houou’s Hadoukyuu wasn’t just an attack—it was a technique. Any ball struck at the sweet spot became one.  

And at that perfect contact point, Houou could handle even Oni’s monstrous returns.  

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!  

The exchange turned into a war of attrition.  

The court cracked under the strain.  

"Tch. I can’t score like this."  

Houou gritted his teeth. Hadoukyuu was draining him. While it wore Oni down too, the man’s stamina was inhuman.  

Time to change tactics.  

As the next ball hurtled toward him, Houou abruptly softened his grip—dropping a delicate short shot instead.  

"This bastard—!"  

Oni’s expression darkened.  

After trading nuclear strikes, Houou had the audacity to bunt.  

Fortunately, Oni’s footwork was sharp. He lunged forward, barely scooping the ball before its second bounce.  

"Now!"  

Houou was already at the net.  

With a sharp upward flick, he unleashed a sky-high lob—  

—one that plummeted faster than gravity should allow.  

"It’s the Hadoroukyuu (Falling Bird Strike)!" Fuwa exhaled in relief.  

He’d been worried Houou would stubbornly keep trading blows.  

But Oni was adapting too quickly.  

THUD!  

The ball slammed into the far corner before Oni could recover.  

"Byoudouin Houou scores! 15-15!"  

"Hmph." Oni scoffed.  

Houou didn’t react. Victory mattered more than pride.  

BOOM!  

The match reignited.  

Houou mixed Hadoukyuu with trick shots, while Oni—by the fifth game—unleashed something even more shocking.  

"Muga no Kyouchi (Zone of Absolute Dominion)!"  

A shimmering aura enveloped him.  

Houou and Fuwa froze.  

"That’s—?!"  

But the match didn’t stop.  

The score climbed relentlessly.  

THWACK!  

"Byoudouin Houou leads! 1-0!"  

...  

CRASH!  

"Oni Juujirou takes the game! 2-1!"  

...  

BAM!  

"Oni Juujirou evens the set! 6-6!"  

...  

Tiebreaker.  

Neither would yield.  

Another 30 minutes of brutal play later—  

"42-41! Oni Juujirou leads!"  

They’d essentially played an entire extra set.  

"Damn it...!"  

Houou panted, using his racket to stay upright.  

His turn to serve.  

If this dragged on any longer, he’d collapse first.  

"Only one option left."  

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up.  

The ball glowed ominously in his palm.  

"Hadoukyuu again?" Oni tightened his grip, sweat dripping.  

He wasn’t faring much better. Houou’s trick shots had sapped his stamina.  

"Oni Juujirou... this one’s lethal."  

Houou’s voice was deadly calm.  

"WATCH CLOSELY!"  

He tossed the ball—  

—and the moment his racket connected, the air itself seemed to shatter.  

A wave of pure annihilation radiated outward.  

Oni’s instincts screamed.  

This wasn’t Hadoukyuu.  

This was—  

"Zankoku Hadoukyuu (Cruel Light Strike – DESTRUCTION)!"  

Meanwhile – Courtside 

Two figures appeared at the edge of the court—Yoru and QP.  

They’d flown to Okayama (yes, flown—don’t @ me, the Shinkansen takes 3.5 hours, and flights aren’t much pricier).  

Just in time to see—  

"...!?"  

Yoru’s eyes widened.  

Hadoukyuu? Already? Wait—no.  

That wasn’t just Hadoukyuu.  

That was—  

"DESTRUCTION!"  

Houou roared as the light intensified—  

—until, suddenly—  

SNAP!  

His racket split in half mid-swing.  

The ball veered wildly—straight toward the children watching from the sidelines.  

"SHIT—!" Houou’s blood ran cold.  

Yoru moved to grab his racket—too late.  

The net’s chain-link fence wouldn’t stop a ball capable of killing.  

And then—  

"NOOOOOO—!!!"  

A sound no human throat should produce tore through the air.