421-425

Chapter 421: Phantom Mirage – Awe-Inspiring Skill  

Shockwaves on the Court  

"How is this possible?!"  

Evanthos’s face twisted in disbelief as Yanagi Renji effortlessly returned [Innocent Tail], a technique that had just stumped a high schooler.  

"A mere middle schooler pulled that off?!"  

"Heh."  

From Japan’s bench, Yagyuu Hiroshi smirked. "For others, that move might be tricky. But Yanagi? He’s spent weeks dissecting everyone’s playstyles."  

Phantom Mirage wasn’t just talent—it was meticulous study. Yanagi had absorbed countless match recordings, replicating techniques with eerie precision.  

And in Japan’s camp?  

Bizarre, unpredictable shots were the norm.  

"True."  

Sanada crossed his arms. "Even among high schoolers, Yanagi stands out as a technical all-rounder."  

He’d seen Yanagi’s growth firsthand. If the boy hadn’t held back during nationals, Rikkai’s "Big Three" might’ve been the "Four Emperors."  

Greece’s Counterattack 

"Evanthos!"  

A deep voice boomed across the court—Heracles, Greece’s towering powerhouse. "Focus. Don’t let them get in your head."  

"R-right!"  

Evanthos snapped back to attention, eyes locking onto Japan’s duo. As Kanjou Munehiro lunged for the next return, he smirked.  

"Heracles’ spin is still on the ball. That high schooler’s gonna—"  

THWACK!  

Before he could finish, the ball blurred past him, landing squarely in Greece’s court.  

"15-15!"  

Silence.  

Then murmurs.  

"Did… did he just adapt that fast?!"  

"Hmph."  

Greece’s strategist, Larissa, frowned. "A fluke. That high schooler just got lucky."  

Beside him, Hermes Kounelis—Greece’s vice-captain—narrowed his eyes.  

"No. That middle schooler’s the real threat."  

At 17, Hermes was second only to Zeus. His presence here proved Greece’s desperation to win.  

"Japan’s middle schoolers…"  

Zeus, arms crossed, mused aloud. "He must be from that generation."  

A ripple of tension passed through Greece’s team.  

They all knew who he meant.  

Ishikawa Shin.  

The 12-year-old monster who’d crushed Germany’s Q·P.  

If Yanagi was from the same crop…  

"We can’t underestimate him," Hermes muttered.  

The Battle Intensifies 

BOOM!  

Heracles unleashed another serve, this time twisting violently toward Kanjou’s backhand.  

But Kanjou was ready.  

"Sorry, but the same trick won’t work twice."  

A crisp return.  

15-30!  

15-40!  

Kanjou’s elite-level precision carved through Heracles’ defenses. The Greek giant gritted his teeth—this wasn’t just skill.  

It was calculated domination.  

"Damn it!"  

Heracles’ aura flared, muscles coiling.  

SMASH!  

A monstrous return nearly tore the racket from Kanjou’s grip. Forced into a weak reply, Kanjou could only watch as Heracles crushed the next shot.  

"30-40!"  

"GREECE! GREECE! GREECE!"  

The crowd roared. Momentum was shifting.  

"One more point," Heracles growled, "and we take control."  

Phantom’s Gambit 

SWISH!  

Heracles’ next serve homed in on Yanagi, its spin even fiercer.  

But Yanagi just smiled.  

With a flick of his wrist, the ball floated gently over the net—a feather-light drop shot.  

"Wha—?!"  

Evanthos scrambled forward, barely saving it. But his desperate lob was intercepted by Kanjou’s ruthless smash.  

"GAME! JAPAN LEADS 1-0!"  

Silence.  

Then chaos.  

"They broke Heracles’ serve?!"  

"That’s Greece’s ace!"  

"Target the weak link," Larissa muttered. "They’re exploiting Evanthos."  

Hermes nodded grimly. "If Evanthos cracks, Heracles can’t carry alone."  

This wasn’t just a match—it was survival.  

The Silver Light of Olympus 

"Second game!"  

"Japan’s Kanjou to serve!"  

WHOOSH!  

Kanjou’s spiral serve pinned Evanthos in place.  

"15-0!"  

Heracles’ eyes darkened. "No more holding back."  

On the next point, he cloaked the ball in silver light—*[Olympian Silver Radiance]*, a technique only Greece’s elite mastered.  

"It’s over," Evanthos breathed.  

But then—  

"Oh?"  

Yanagi’s form shimmered.  

FWOOM!  

An identical silver aura erupted around him.  

ZING!  

A return so fast, it sliced a lock of Heracles’ hair clean off.  

"Wha—?!"  

Heracles staggered back, eyes wide.  

When the light faded…  

Black hair. Crimson eyes.  

A figure Greece knew all too well.  

"Ishikawa… Shin?!" Larissa gasped.  

Chapter 422: Mental Interference — First Victory  

"H-Hera...senpai?"  

The middle schooler Evangelos turned around and instinctively widened his eyes at the sight of Heracles’ severed strand of hair.  

"Gulp... No way..."  

The rising star of Team Greece swallowed hard.  

Not only had the opposing middle schooler countered Heracles’ technique, but he’d also somehow managed to cut his hair.  

It was shocking.  

And it completely shattered the common belief that high schoolers were leagues above middle schoolers.  

"30–0!"  

The referee’s call finally broke the tension on the court.  

Then, all eyes shifted to the calm black-haired boy on the other side.  

"Shin Ishikawa!"  

A glint flashed in Zeus’ eyes.  

He knew that face all too well—he had spent an entire night analyzing footage of Ishikawa’s match against Q·P. That night, he’d even lost sleep, a rare occurrence for him.  

There was no way he could mistake this player for anyone else.  

"What kind of technique was that?"  

Larssen, the team’s strategist, frowned. "How did he perfectly replicate Shin Ishikawa’s signature move?"  

"Probably some kind of enhanced mimicry ability," Hermes mused. "The world is full of players who model themselves after the strong, using imitation as a way to improve rapidly."  

"True."  

The others nodded in agreement.  

Mimicry wasn’t uncommon—even many pro players had once idolized and imitated top-tier athletes.  

"But here’s the question," Larssen pressed. "How much of Ishikawa’s power can he actually replicate? That move just now looked like the pinnacle of swordsmanship—'True Sword Intent'!"  

Silence fell over the group.  

If "Yanagi" could perfectly mimic Ishikawa—or even most of his abilities—it spelled terrible news for Team Greece.  

"It’s not that simple."  

Zeus shook his head. "Ishikawa’s skill is beyond ordinary pro level. He’s an anomaly even within Team Japan. This guy… he’s definitely not on that level."  

His words eased the tension slightly.  

Thud!  

On the court, Kiyoshi served again.  

"Haaah!"  

Evangelos roared, lunging with all his might. He barely managed to return the ball before it bounced out.  

"Huff… huff…"  

Drenched in sweat, the boy gasped for breath.  

"The gap is too big."  

Larssen sighed. "Evangelos is still far from elite level."  

Though Evangelos had become the middle school ace after Zeus moved up to high school, Greece’s middle school tennis scene had suffered a decline. The shadow of Zeus’ brilliance had left a void no one could fill.  

But this wasn’t unique to Greece.  

Many European teams lacked standout middle schoolers. Under the old rules, high schoolers dominated, and middle schoolers were often just fill-ins—making them seem weak by comparison.  

Team Japan, however, was different.  

Led by Ishikawa, their middle schoolers had even overpowered their high schoolers—who were already among the world’s strongest.  

Against that standard, Greece’s middle school division looked painfully thin.  

Swish!  

Then, "Ishikawa" struck.  

A silver-white arc shot past Evangelos at blinding speed.  

"Damn it!"  

Gritting his teeth, Evangelos forced himself to focus. "We’re both middle schoolers! How much stronger can you really—"  

Crack!  

Before he could finish the thought, his racket shattered like paper upon contact with the ball.  

Boom!  

The unstoppable shot slammed into the ground, then rocketed into the wall behind.  

"40–0!"  

The referee took a deep breath before announcing the score.  

Silence.  

The stadium fell into stunned quiet.  

Greek fans were completely shaken.  

"No way…"  

"This is Greece, a top-ten team in the world!"  

"The rankings gap is over ten spots! How is Japan dominating like this?"  

Since Heracles’ initial ace serve, Greece had barely scored.  

At this rate, their defeat was inevitable.  

Hum!  

Heracles refused to accept it.  

His body flared with silver-white energy, filling the court with an oppressive aura.  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

He launched a furious assault.  

His power and technique were overwhelming—even "Ishikawa" was forced into desperate defense.  

The spectators were reminded: the gap between high schoolers and middle schoolers wasn’t so easily closed.  

Thwack!  

But then, another player stepped in.  

Kiyoshi joined the fray.  

This was doubles, and as a former fixed doubles partner with Enyou, he knew exactly how to exploit openings.  

His well-timed strike hit Heracles at his weakest moment—right as his momentum faltered.  

"No!"  

"I can’t lose!"  

"This isn’t just my fight—it’s Greece’s!"  

Hum!  

With renewed resolve, Heracles’ silver glow intensified, flickering with hints of gold.  

Boom!  

His next shot was devastating.  

Neither "Ishikawa" nor Kiyoshi could react in time.  

"Nice one!"  

"That’s our Hera-senpai!"  

"What a perfect shot—flawless!"  

"40–15!"  

The referee called the score.  

"Wait."  

Kiyoshi suddenly raised his hand, turning to the umpire. "I challenge the call."  

"Challenge?!"  

The Greek fans froze.  

"Wh-what’s a challenge?"  

In the rest area, Toyama scratched his head in confusion.  

"A challenge lets players dispute the referee’s call," Shiraishi explained patiently. "They use Hawk-Eye to replay the shot’s trajectory."  

Beep!  

The giant screen lit up, displaying Heracles’ powerful strike in slow motion.  

The ball landed—leaving a clear mark just outside the line.  

"What?!"  

Gasps erupted.  

The Greek team and fans stared in disbelief. The mark was over half a centimeter out.  

"Challenge successful!"  

The referee adjusted the score immediately. "Game! Team Japan leads, 2–0!"  

The Greek supporters deflated like popped balloons.  

"H-how…?"  

Evangelos was stunned.  

Just as he’d thought they were mounting a comeback, this happened. He never expected his reliable senpai to make such a mistake.  

"Was I too reckless?"  

Heracles fell into deep thought, searching for the root of his errors.  

But things only got worse.  

No matter how carefully he played, his shots kept missing—flying out or hitting the net.  

Even basic mistakes, the kind even a middle schooler wouldn’t make, crept into his game.  

Thud!  

"Game!"  

"Team Japan leads, 3–0! Change sides!"  

"What’s going on?"  

During the break, Larssen’s voice was grim. "If this keeps up, Hera’s mental state will collapse. Then we’ll really have no chance."  

The mood in the Greek camp grew heavy.  

"It’s mental interference."  

Zeus finally spoke, his gaze locked on Kiyoshi. "His shots are laced with subtle movements—tiny details that are messing with Hera-senpai’s focus."  

"Psychological warfare?"  

Hermes narrowed his eyes.  

As Greece’s No. 2, he’d seen similar tactics in high-level European matches.  

"So if Hera shakes it off, he’ll recover… right?" a high schooler asked hopefully.  

"It’s not that easy."  

Zeus shook his head. "Mental effects aren’t quick to dispel. And the opponent won’t give him time to recover."  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

True to his words, Kiyoshi intensified his assault.  

Heracles’ mistakes multiplied.  

Before long, Japan had won five straight games, pushing Greece to the brink.  

"This can’t go on."  

Heracles clenched his fists, the invisible pressure weighing on him like a nightmare.  

Then—  

His eyes landed on Evangelos.  

"There’s only one way to win now."  

He pulled the boy aside and whispered something.  

"W-what?!"  

Evangelos’ eyes widened. "B-but, Hera-senpai… Can I really do it?"  

"We have to try."  

Heracles gave a bitter smile. "It’s not like things can get any worse, right?"  

"…Okay."  

Seeing his usually unshakable senpai like this, something inside Evangelos stirred.  

He took a deep breath and steeled himself.  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

The match resumed.  

Kiyoshi’s powerful serves and aggressive plays kept Japan in control. Greece was visibly crumbling.  

Boom!  

Kiyoshi fired another serve, aiming to end the match.  

"Haaah!"  

Evangelos barely returned it.  

"Pointless."  

Kiyoshi shook his head. "Once your high schooler was locked down, this match was over."  

Boom!  

He fired the ball straight at Heracles, layering it with mental interference.  

Heracles braced himself, refusing to yield.  

But defense alone wasn’t enough.  

Kiyoshi’s sharp eyes found the gap—a shot aimed at Heracles’ blind spot to seal the match.  

Heracles stood frozen, as if he’d given up.  

"It’s over—"  

But then—  

Swish!  

Evangelos appeared behind Heracles, covering his weakness!  

"It’s Evangelos!"  

The crowd roared.  

With desperate determination, he targeted Yanagi, using tight angles to avoid the sweeping "Sword" techniques.  

"It’s no use."  

Yanagi shook his head. "This just delays the inevitable."  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

Evangelos was soon cornered.  

"It’s over."  

As Yanagi unleashed a razor-sharp slice, the crowd sighed.  

But then—  

Hum!  

A brilliant silver light erupted from Evangelos’ body.  

"That’s—!"  

"Olympian Silver?!"  

Gasps filled the stadium.  

"He’s using Yanagi’s pressure to force a breakthrough?!"  

"That’s insane!"  

"But it worked! The match just turned!"  

International players watched in awe.  

With double Silver power, Japan’s lead was suddenly at risk.  

Boom!  

Evangelos struck—  

A lightning-fast shot that even Yanagi couldn’t react to.  

"Yes!"  

"They’ve done it!"  

The Greek team erupted in cheers.  

"Out!"  

The referee’s voice was a bucket of ice water.  

"Match over! Team Japan’s Kiyoshi Masaharu and Yanagi Renji win, 6–0!"  

"O-out?!"  

"You’ve gotta be kidding me!"  

"Bad luck?"  

Zeus and Hermes exchanged grim looks.  

"This wasn’t luck."  

Their eyes snapped to the baseline—  

Where another Kiyoshi stood, glasses glinting.  

Only then did everyone realize—  

There were two Kiyoshis on the court!  

Chapter 423: Rivals in Doubles – Tezuka and Sanada  

"H-how is this possible?!"  

Evangelos, who had just broken through, stared in shock at the other "Kunimitsu Kikumaru" standing at the opposite baseline.  

"It's like an illusion…"  

Heracles, the bearded giant, muttered in awe.  

As for the Greek team outside the court, they had only just realized—Evangelos’ mistake wasn’t a fluke. It was influenced by the presence of another "Kikumaru."  

"So…" Hermes narrowed his eyes. "This guy isn’t just mimicking someone. He’s literally turning into another person, like a phantom?"  

"A phantom?" Strategist Larcher’s expression sharpened.  

If that were true… it would be terrifying.  

But if not—how else could there be two Kikumarus on the court? Unless you looked closely, it was impossible to tell which one was the real one.  

"They didn’t lose for nothing."  

Suddenly, Zeus spoke up with a sigh.  

The others turned to him, only to see him shake his head. "If I’m not mistaken, this player—Yagyu Hiroshi—can only ‘phantom’ into someone else after thoroughly studying his opponent’s mentality."  

"Huh?"  

Apollo and Orion, the twin brothers, exchanged confused glances. "Lord Zeus, what do you mean?"  

The others were equally puzzled. They sensed deeper meaning in Zeus’ words but couldn’t grasp it.  

"Mentality? The mind? Wait…"  

Hermes suddenly realized something, his eyes widening as he stared at Yagyu on the court. "If that’s the case… his doubles play is downright terrifying."  

"S-senior…"  

Apollo, who had been so confident earlier, now felt his head spinning as if his brain was being rewired.  

"Synchro."  

Larcher’s expression darkened.  

"Synchro?!"  

At that word, Apollo and Orion’s pupils shrank. As a doubles pair themselves, they knew exactly what that meant.  

"So…" Apollo said grimly, "he can enter Synchro at will with whoever he’s phantoming into?"  

That explained why Zeus said Heracles and Evangelos never stood a chance.  

The entire match, their opponents hadn’t even been fighting seriously. If they played a second set, the Greek team would likely lose again.  

"Hah…"  

Apollo let out a sigh of relief.  

He was glad he hadn’t been unlucky enough to face those two. Even if he and Orion used their most brutal techniques, they’d still lose.  

"Don’t overthink it, brother."  

Orion smirked and lowered his voice. "This isn’t entirely bad for us."  

"Ah… true."  

After a brief pause, Apollo chuckled in understanding.  

The crushing defeat in Doubles 2 had shattered the Greek team’s morale. If they could win Doubles 1, they’d shine brighter than ever in front of their captain and coach—overshadowing even Evangelos, who had awakened the [Silver Light].  

"Next up: Doubles 1."  

"Representing Greece—Apollo Stefanopoulos (3rd Year), Orion Stefanopoulos (2nd Year)."  

"Representing Japan—Tezuka Kunimitsu (3rd Year), Sanada Genichirou (3rd Year)."  

"Players, prepare yourselves."  

As soon as the announcement ended, Apollo and Orion eagerly stepped forward.  

Meanwhile, on Japan’s side—  

After tying his shoelaces, Tezuka calmly walked onto the court, racket in hand. Beside him, Sanada adjusted his black cap, his expression cold as they entered together.  

"These guys… Heh!"  

Seeing their profiles—both middle schoolers—Apollo and Orion couldn’t help but laugh.  

"Middle schoolers?! How dare the Japanese coach and captain do this?!"  

Facing Greece, a top-ten world team, they actually fielded two middle schoolers in Doubles 1? This was a joke!  

Of course, Greece had placed them in Doubles 1 for a reason—their unique skills could shine on the world stage.  

But what did these two have?  

Did Japan think every player was as strong as Ishikawa or Yagyu?  

"Don’t make me laugh!"  

Apollo’s eyes glinted coldly. "It’s time you experienced the methods of Greece’s ancient executioner family!"  

"Wait!"  

A voice suddenly cut through.  

Everyone turned to see a golden-haired young man step forward, his expression stern.  

"H-Hermes?!"  

Apollo and Orion froze.  

"Referee," Hermes said, ignoring them, "I request a lineup change!"  

"What?!"  

"A lineup change? Is that even allowed in the World Cup?"  

The Japanese middle schoolers in the stands were stunned.  

"Actually… there’s no rule against it," Mizuki said after checking the regulations. "This happens every year. Each team gets one substitution per match."  

"If both sides agree, it’s fair," Yanagi added. "But if Greece is switching now… they must sense something’s wrong."  

"Too bad it won’t help," Mizuki smirked. "No matter how they struggle, they can’t change the inevitable."  

Japan’s strength far surpassed expectations.  

Their warm-up matches had already proven that. Unlike other teams, Japan had held back—players like Byoudouin, Oni, Tezuka, Yukimura, and Sanada hadn’t even played.  

This match…  

Greece’s plans were doomed from the start.  

"Ahem."  

After a moment, the referee announced:  

"Due to Greece’s substitution, the Doubles 1 players are now—Hermes Kounelis (3rd Year) and Vulcan Larcher (3rd Year)!"  

"Are you serious?!"  

Some Greek fans frowned. "Hermes in Doubles 1? What about the three singles matches?!"  

"Exactly," another agreed. "Zeus is strong, but he can’t carry singles alone!"  

"They must have a reason," a more trusting fan said.  

Hermes was known as the team’s [Strategist]. He never acted without purpose—if he made this move, he must have foreseen something.  

"Damn it…"  

Orion clenched his fists as he watched Hermes and Larcher walk onto the court. "Hermes is giving these guys too much credit."  

"Right?" Apollo grumbled. "We could’ve crushed them."  

Their playstyle was brutal, but in the World Cup, that was normal. Players under national pressure often resorted to extreme measures.  

If they had dominated with violence, it would’ve intimidated Japan’s other players.  

Greece might not be a Big 4 team, but they weren’t pushovers.  

But their complaints died in their throats.  

They knew Hermes and Larcher’s strength—especially Hermes, Greece’s No. 2 and a senior. His authority was absolute.  

If not for his selflessness, he could’ve challenged for No. 1.  

"Well?"  

As they stepped onto the court, Hermes glanced at Larcher.  

"They’re definitely not ordinary," Larcher admitted. "No fear facing high schoolers—that confidence is real. These two are trouble."  

"Mhm."  

Hermes nodded.  

He had substituted himself in because he predicted Greece would lose Doubles 1, further crushing morale.  

But if he and Larcher won, the pressure in singles would ease.  

After all, Greece had prepared for this. Not just Zeus and Hermes—other top players were also in the lineup.  

"I’ll handle them. You gather data."  

Hermes kept his eyes on their opponents. "These two must be top-tier among Japan’s middle schoolers. We need more intel."  

"Understood."  

Larcher nodded firmly.  

Soon, after the coin toss, both teams took their positions.  

"First set, match start!"  

"Game 1, Greece’s Larcher to serve!"  

The referee’s voice rang out as all eyes locked onto the tall Greek player at the baseline.  

Tap… Tap… Tap…  

He bounced the ball lightly, studying the black-capped boy before tossing it high—  

"Let’s see your reflexes."  

Boom!  

The serve streaked across the court like a yellow blur.  

By the time anyone blinked, the ball had already struck the ground at a sharp angle.  

Swish!  

But Sanada was already there.  

His racket lifted, poised to strike—  

Fwoosh!  

Yet the ball suddenly twisted mid-bounce, veering in the opposite direction.  

"This is…"  

The Japanese players recognized it instantly.  

"Serpent’s Tail!"  

The same tricky serve Heracles had used earlier—even Kikumaru had been caught off guard.  

"Heh."  

Heracles shook his head from the sidelines. "Larcher’s version is even better."  

This technique had been passed down from their old coach, but only Larcher had mastered its true essence.  

Sure enough—  

The ball’s spin shifted unpredictably, making its trajectory erratic.  

"A spin variation serve?"  

Sanada’s eyes narrowed.  

Swish!  

Then—  

In a flash, he appeared right where the ball was headed.  

"What?!"  

Apollo and Orion paled.  

Too fast!  

They hadn’t even seen him move.  

Crack!  

A bolt of lightning erupted as Sanada swung down.  

Boom!  

The ball shot back like a thunderclap.  

Larcher barely had time to react before—  

Swish!  

A silver racket intercepted.  

Bang!  

The ball rocketed back with equal force.  

"Hermes!"  

Yanagi’s eyes widened. "A top high schooler really is different. He returned [Lightning] just like that?"  

Tap.  

But Sanada’s racket met the ball with a gentle touch, dissolving all spin and force.  

The ball floated softly, landing like a falling leaf.  

"This move…?"  

Hermes and Larcher stiffened.  

Especially Hermes—he had been ready for a counterattack, never expecting his own technique to be neutralized so easily.  

Plink… Plink…  

The ball rolled to a stop.  

Larcher and Hermes exchanged grim looks.  

"This guy’s technique…" Larcher muttered, "is even sharper than that Yagyu kid’s."  

They had assumed the phantom copy was close to the original.  

But they were wrong.  

Yagyu hadn’t replicated Sanada’s full strength.  

This black-capped middle schooler was far stronger than they imagined.  

Chapter 424: Overturned Data, Blazing Golden Light  

"It's here!"  

In the stands, Marui and Kirihara pumped their fists. "Yanagi's Joketsu no Rin (Like a Gentle Forest)!"  

"Fūrin Kazan!"  

Mizuki's eyes flashed with surprise.  

As Yanagi's skills had grown, so too had the power of his signature techniques. At this rate, it wouldn’t be surprising if these moves reached pro-level soon.  

"The Emperor of Tennis... Yanagi Renji."  

A trace of awe flickered across Mizuki’s face.  

"This technique?!"  

Apollo and Orion exchanged uneasy glances.  

Hermes’ attack had been effortlessly dismantled. If this was Japan’s baseline strength, they were in serious trouble.  

Still, the brothers remained confident.  

Violent tennis was their domain—they could crush opponents blindfolded.  

"As expected."  

After losing the point, Larssen’s expression darkened. "Captain Zeus was right. This year’s Japanese team is far stronger than we anticipated."  

But as Greece’s strategist, he’d analyzed countless pro matches. A high school duel wouldn’t faze him.  

Thwack!  

Larssen fired another precision serve, aimed at the corner.  

The Greek team tensed. Surely, even Japan couldn’t counter such a shot—  

Swish!  

Yet Tezuka barely glanced at the ball before casually returning it.  

"What?!"  

Hermes stiffened.  

For a split second, he’d sensed something—perfection. A level of skill that defied logic.  

But he shook it off.  

Impossible. Japan can’t have another monster like Ishikawa.  

Thud!  

Larssen counterattacked, targeting Tezuka’s backhand—a textbook weak point.  

Yet Tezuka adjusted seamlessly, delivering a flawless drop shot.  

"Tch."  

Larssen’s eye twitched.  

First the cap-wearing brat, now this glasses-wielder? Since when did Japan mass-produce textbook-perfect players?  

"Predictable."  

He lunged forward, barely saving the ball with a lob—  

"SHUKUCHI—ENJIN!"  

A crimson hawk soared through the air.  

"INVASION—LIKE FIRE!"  

Yanagi’s voice boomed as his racket carved through the air, trailing flames.  

Boom!  

The smash exploded past Larssen.  

"0–30!"  

"That smash…"  

"Perfection."  

Even Greek fans begrudgingly admitted it—the Japanese duo’s synergy was terrifying.  

"Tezuka-senpai and Vice-Captain Yanagi…"  

Kirihara gaped from the stands.  

He’d partnered with Yanagi before, but their coordination paled in comparison. Tezuka’s setups flowed seamlessly into Yanagi’s Fūrin Kazan, as if they shared one mind.  

"In a way," Yanagi mused, "Yanagi might understand Tezuka better than anyone."  

Three years ago, Yanagi’s crushing defeat had seared Tezuka’s image into his soul. Every move, every habit—Yanagi had studied them all.  

"Tezuka…"  

Inui adjusted his glasses, equally impressed.  

Their captain had clearly analyzed Yanagi just as deeply. After Rikkai’s Yukimura fell ill, Tezuka had likely prepared for Yanagi as his finals opponent—only to be derailed by Ishikawa’s overwhelming power.  

Yet that preparation now bore fruit.  

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!  

Tezuka and Yanagi dominated, their synergy reducing Greece to scrambling defense.  

"0–40!"  

"Game! Japan leads 1–0!"  

"Game! Japan 2–0!"  

"Game! Japan 3–0! Change ends!"  

Three straight games. Not a single point conceded.  

The Greek team stared, shell-shocked.  

"No… way…"  

Their strategist Larssen and No. 2 Hermes had been shut out. It felt surreal—like a nightmare.  

"Hah…"  

Suddenly, Larssen exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow.  

"Done?" Hermes asked.  

"Yes." Larssen smirked. "Our patience paid off. Time to strike back."  

"Finally."  

Even calm Hermes had grown weary of being toyed with.  

Flash!  

Larssen’s gaze sharpened as he locked onto Tezuka and Yanagi.  

Both instantly sensed his scrutiny but remained unfazed.  

Thud!  

Yanagi took the offensive, unleashing Hayate (Like the Wind)—  

"Too slow."  

Larssen intercepted effortlessly. "I’ve deciphered your patterns."  

Undeterred, Yanagi followed up with Enjin (Like Fire)—  

"Meaningless."  

Larssen dismantled the technique with surgical precision. "Your tricks won’t work twice."  

Gasps rippled through the crowd.  

Yanagi’s entire arsenal—neutralized.  

**"Behold the Thinker—Vulcan Larssen,"** Mitsuya murmured. "They say his eyes can datafy any technique, breaking it down within minutes."  

"That’s insane!"  

Tachibana and Chitose exchanged alarmed looks.  

For technique-reliant players like Fuji and Oshitari, this was a nightmare.  

Boom!  

Larssen smashed toward the duo’s exposed center—  

"GREECE! GREECE! GREECE!"  

Fans roared, certain this was the turning point—  

Whoosh!  

Yet the ball curved mid-flight, veering obediently toward Tezuka’s racket.  

"What?!"  

Larssen’s pupils shrank. Hermes tensed.  

"15–0."  

The umpire’s call doused Greek hopes like ice water.  

"Such spin control…" Hermes studied Tezuka. "So you’re the true ace here."  

Tezuka Zone instantly made him the center of attention. Scouts leaned forward, hungry.  

"Hmph."  

Yanagi’s grunt sliced through the murmurs.  

Eyes burning, he tossed the ball high—  

"Hayate no—"  

"Save your breath," Larssen scoffed. "That move is—"  

SWOOSH!  

A white cyclone screamed past, rippling his jacket.  

"—STORM!"  

Yanagi completed his swing, voice thunderous.  

"IT’S HERE!" Kirihara leaped up. "Yanagi-fukubuchō’s new secret—Bōshin Enpō!"  

Hayate no Storm.  

Shitoku no Forest.  

Shinryaku no Blazing Fire.  

Fudōsan no Mountain.  

Forged through grueling training at Heart’s Cliff, Yanagi had transcended his old limits.  

"Im… possible…"  

Larssen’s face twisted. "You mean… everything I analyzed was a downgraded version?!"  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

Three consecutive Blazing Fire strikes hammered the truth home.  

"Game! Japan 4–0!"  

"OOOOOH!!"  

Yanagi’s dominance electrified the crowd. Greece reeled.  

"Larssen’s finished."  

A foreign analyst shook his head.  

Having your painstakingly gathered data rendered useless—for a data player, it was psychological torture.  

Thud! Thud! Thud!  

Yanagi pressed the assault, his refined Bōshin Enpō leaving Larssen scrambling, sweat-drenched hair plastered to his face.  

Yet strangely, none of it seemed to matter.  

The real threat stood motionless at the baseline.  

Hermes Kurnelis.  

Greece’s unshakable No. 2.  

"Game! Japan 5–0! Change ends."  

Match point.  

The Greek team’s fear wasn’t directed at Tezuka or Yanagi—but at their golden-haired pillar, who hadn’t even broken a sweat.  

"You’ve earned this."  

Hermes finally acknowledged them, his gaze sharpening.  

"Now… I’ll get serious."  

HUM!  

Golden light erupted from his body, dazzling the stadium.  

Chapter 425: Hermes' Dominance - Tezuka's Flawless Defense  

Boom!  

A golden light erupted beside Sanada.  

Before he could react—  

"0-15!"  

The referee's call drew everyone's gaze to the blond figure radiating that brilliant glow.  

"Olympia's Golden Light!"  

Someone in the stands gasped.  

"As expected, Hermes' strength rivals past Greek team captains." 

"If not for Zeus' overwhelming talent, he would've been leading Greece this year." 

"Who knew Japanese middle schoolers could push him this far?" 

"But it's over now."  

The crowd buzzed with discussions about Hermes' power and the match's turning point. With Greece's No. 2 now serious, they believed the outcome was decided.  

"Golden Light... the level above Silver Light?"  

In Japan's rest area, Shiraishi analyzed thoughtfully.  

"Correct." Mitsuya nodded. "Olympia's radiance has three tiers: Silver Light, Golden Light, and the ultimate—Rainbow Halo."  

The team's expressions darkened.  

They'd witnessed Heracles' Silver Light overpowering Yagyū and Kikumaru. Without Yagyū's illusions, the previous match could've ended differently.  

Now, Hermes had unleashed the superior Golden Light. His skin shimmered faintly gold, his jacket fluttering with an aura of transcendent strength.  

"So it's come to this."  

Zeus sighed from Greece's bench.  

Hermes was monstrously strong. Though they hadn't sparred recently, Zeus estimated his rival had reached semi-pro level. With that power and experience, Japan's duo stood no chance.  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

True to expectations, Hermes abandoned his usual finesse for aggressive play, targeting Sanada's weaknesses relentlessly. Even with all his signature moves—Rokkaku, Fire, Mountain—Sanada couldn't stop the bleeding.  

"Game! Greece leads 1-5!" 

"Game! 2-5!" 

"Game! 3-5!"  

Three straight games to Greece. Hermes, blazing like golden fire, completely suppressed his opponents. The gap between them seemed as vast as fireflies versus the moon.  

"Vice-captain Sanada's being crushed?!"  

Kaidō gaped, but Yanagi shook his head. "Look closer. He's still holding back."  

Hummm—  

As if on cue, dark lightning crackled around Sanada. The oppressive energy made the Greek twins pale.  

"No way!" Apollo choked. "He was sandbagging?!"  

The revelation stunned them. That aura proved Sanada had kept his true power hidden.  

Boom!  

Game 9.  

Larcher served cautiously, but Sanada ignored him, driving the ball straight at Hermes.  

The Rikkai emperor wanted to conquer where he'd fallen.  

Crack!  

This wasn't standard Lightning—it was Thunderclap, faster and more devastating.  

Boom!  

Yet Hermes returned it effortlessly.  

"Impressive speed and power." He nodded approvingly. "You'd rank among Greece's top high schoolers. But—"  

Whoosh!  

The ball streaked past Sanada in a golden blur.  

"15-0!"  

"WOOOO!"  

Greece's bench erupted. Hermes' dominance reaffirmed their might, especially with Zeus waiting in reserve. Victory seemed assured.  

"Hey, kid."  

Hermes studied Sanada. "You're still not going all out, are you?"  

Silence. Then—  

"WHAT?!"  

Apollo and Orion looked ready to faint.  

"H-he's still hiding power?!" 

"But this is Hermes' judgment!" 

"These Japanese monsters..."  

Chaos spread through Greece's ranks.  

Meanwhile, Sanada's frown deepened.  

Hermes overwhelmed him in every aspect—technique, strength, speed. The Golden Light's pressure made each swing feel like hitting cannonballs.  

Inhale—  

Sanada's gaze sharpened.  

Boom!  

Larcher served again.  

Tezuka returned smoothly, but Hermes intercepted, blasting the ball at Sanada's flank.  

A seasoned player knew: break one opponent to win.  

Boom!  

Sanada countered.  

Hermes moved to return—  

Swish!  

The ball abruptly changed trajectory.  

Bam!  

Hermes barely adjusted in time.  

"Not bad." He admitted. "This kid's tricky."  

Sanada's Black Dragon Slash was vicious. Without experience, Hermes might've been caught off-guard.  

Flash!  

He teleported to the ball's new path.  

"Too fast!"  

Japan's players tensed. Even Sanada's Twin Dragon Slash was being chased down effortlessly.  

CRACK!  

The ball rocketed to Sanada's backhand.  

"Bad news!" Yanagi's eyes widened. "His techniques are completely read!"  

Hermes' superiority was terrifying. Sanada, who'd traded blows with Duke, was being dismantled.  

"Finish it, Hermes!" 

"Greece's victory!" 

"All hail Hermes!"  

Greece's cheers roared. This match carried their hopes—losing would doom them to a first-round exit against Switzerland.  

But then—  

Thud! Thud!  

Tezuka sprinted into position.  

"That glasses guy?!" 

"He predicted Hermes' shot?!" 

"So what? Golden Light's unstoppable!"  

The Greeks scoffed. Against a near-Budgei player, no middle schooler could resist.  

Ping!  

Yet Tezuka's racket met the ball firmly.  

Grrr—  

The ball writhed violently, but his arm didn't budge.  

Flick!  

A precise slice sent it arcing back.  

"HE RETURNED IT?!"  

The Greeks froze.  

"IMPOSSIBLE!" The twins screamed. "That's GOLDEN LIGHT!" 

"Is his racket made of steel?!" 

"No way a kid has that strength!"  

Hermes' eyes narrowed.  

That shot had 70% power—enough to crush any middle schooler.  

"He's hiding strength too?!"  

Hummm!  

Golden Light erupted anew.  

This wasn't just elite-high-schooler level—it bordered on pro. Focus, power, speed—all surged.  

No more games.  

Whoosh!  

A golden comet tore toward Tezuka.  

BOOM!!!  

Dust exploded, engulfing him.  

"It's here!" Larcher cheered. "Hermes' Budgei technique!!"  

A colossal tennis ball materialized, crashing down like a meteor.  

Tezuka's face glowed eerie blue-green under its light—but his eyes remained steely.  

FWOOOOSH!  

A blinding white aura detonated from him, shredding the dust and flooding the court.  

"WHAT IS THIS?!"  

Hermes' confidence wavered for the first time.  

From Greece's bench, Zeus inhaled sharply.  

"Pinnacle of Great Wisdom... one of the Three Great Quirks—Steadfast Radiance!"  

BAM!  

Tezuka's counterattack engulfed Larcher in light, paralyzing his thoughts.  

When the glare faded—  

Tap... tap...  

The ball lay at Hermes' feet.  

Both Greeks stared, stunned.  

Zeus exhaled slowly.  

"The ultimate defense... Radiance of Fortitude."  

(End of Chapter.)