346-350

Chapter 346: Brutality, Violence—The Reality of Pro-Level Tennis!  

"Fifty percent?!"  

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"  

The middle schoolers—especially those from Hyotei—instinctively shook their heads.  

There was no way that insane rally had only been half of Tohno’s strength. This guy had to be lying, right?  

But as the match progressed, even Hirakoba and Kai started doubting themselves.  

This was U-17, after all—a world they hadn’t fully grasped yet. And when it came to the Elite Ten, who could say if what they’d seen was truly their limit?  

Boom!  

The second game began.  

Tohno served, the ball streaking low and fast before abruptly skidding along the court.  

"You think this’ll work on me?"  

Atobe’s eyes turned icy.  

He wasn’t some amateur. Cheap tricks like this meant nothing to him.  

Whoosh!  

But just as he bent to return it—  

The ball changed direction mid-bounce, rocketing straight at his face.  

"What—?!"  

Atobe barely managed to raise his racket in time.  

BANG!  

The impact sent him stumbling back. Meanwhile, Tohno smirked, his racket slicing downward like a guillotine.  

Crack!  

A flash of yellow light exploded between Atobe’s legs.  

"15-0!"  

"Whoa—"  

The crowd gasped.  

Tohno had scored in seconds. His rhythm was brutally efficient—nothing like his earlier, sluggish play.  

"So this is the real level of the Elite Ten?" Yanagi murmured.  

"Hey, brat." Tohno tilted his head, grinning. "Don’t hold back now. Show me those fancy tricks of yours."  

"Gladly."  

Atobe wiped sweat from his brow, his smile sharp. "I’ll give you exactly what you asked for."  

Boom!  

Tohno served again.  

This time, Atobe charged forward, eyes flashing—  

SHING!  

—and unleashed Big Bang with zero hesitation.  

The ball tore through the air like a meteor, obliterating Tohno’s spin.  

"He broke it?!"  

Some high schoolers stiffened.  

"Not surprising." Mitsuya, watching from the stands, shrugged. "Tohno-senpai was just testing him. The real match hasn’t even started."  

Boom!  

Atobe’s return was ruthless—but Tohno caught it effortlessly.  

"Too predictable." He scoffed. "Your ‘tricks’ are transparent after the first try."  

Whoosh!  

The ball shot back, faster than before.  

"Already figured me out?"  

Atobe’s smirk didn’t waver.  

Fine. If Tohno wanted variety, he’d give it to him.  

CRACK!  

His next swing sent the ball twisting through the air like a viper, its path impossible to track.  

"The Great Cobra?!" Hyotei’s players gasped.  

Even some high schoolers swayed, dizzy just from watching.  

"Pathetic."  

Tohno didn’t even blink.  

One step. One swing.  

BAM!  

The "unreadable" shot was blasted back like it was nothing.  

"Tch."  

Atobe’s grip tightened.  

He’d underestimated this guy. Time to switch tactics.  

Boom! Boom! Boom!  

The next eight rallies were a blur.  

Atobe’s footwork—Shukuchi—made him a ghost on the court. Even injured, his movements were flawless.  

"That’s our captain!" Hirakoba crowed. "With his balance, Shukuchi is unstoppable!"  

BANG!  

Atobe forced Tohno into a weak lob—  

—then leaped, smashing it down like a hammer.  

"High schoolers? Elite Ten?"  

Mid-air, Atobe’s eyes gleamed cold.  

"Overrated."  

SMASH!  

But as the ball descended—  

"You’re adorable."  

Tohno’s grin turned feral.  

"Now you can’t run."  

WHAM!  

His counter smashed straight into Atobe’s right foot.  

"AGHH—!!!"  

A scream echoed across the court.  

Atobe collapsed, clutching his ankle. His face contorted in agony, sweat pouring down his temples.  

"Execution No. 6: Cement Shoes."  

Tohno loomed over him. "Feels like running in concrete, doesn’t it?"  

"…!"  

The middle schoolers paled.  

They’d known U-17 was brutal—but this?  

"You bastard!" Kai roared. "Using dirty tricks in an official match?!"  

"Dirty?"  

Hiyoshi (Hyotei) and the Rokkaku players burst out laughing.  

"Says the guy who tried to break an old man’s glasses?"  

Even kind-hearted Oishi winced. "This is too much. The coaches should stop this."  

But when he looked over—  

The staff, the high schoolers, even Ishikawa (seated among the Elite Ten)—all watched in silence.  

"Heh."  

Atobe forced himself up, leaning on his racket.  

"U-17… truly is my kind of place."  

His grin was bloody but exhilarated.  

"Oh?"  

Tohno raised a brow.  

Most players crumpled after one Execution. This brat was… enjoying it?  

"Interesting."  

He pulled out another ball.  

"I’ve got thirteen Executions. Let’s see how many you can take."  

"T-Thirteen?!"  

Hyotei’s team turned ashen.  

Even Atobe’s confidence flickered—  

—but Tohno didn’t wait.  

BOOM!  

Another serve.  

Atobe lunged, compensating with his left foot. His returns grew sharper, more desperate.  

Yet Tohno’s precision was inhuman. Every shot aimed at Atobe’s weak points, every spin calculated to maximize pain.  

CRUNCH!  

"Execution No. 1: Seppuku."  

Atobe’s own racket slammed into his gut, knocking the air from his lungs.  

THUD!  

He barely stayed upright, wheezing.  

"This… is pro tennis?"  

The middle schoolers trembled.  

No rules. No mercy. Just survival of the fittest.  

BAM! BAM! BAM!  

Tohno didn’t let up.  

By the time the first set ended (6-1), Atobe was a mess—bruised, bleeding, but still standing.  

"Can’t even last two sets?" Tohno taunted.  

"Shut up!" Hirakoba shouted—then froze under Tohno’s glare.  

"Don’t… worry…"  

Atobe’s voice was ragged but steady.  

Slowly, he straightened—  

—and his hair turned blood-red.  

A sinister aura erupted, swirling around him like a storm.  

"The match…"  

His eyes glowed with eerie calm.  

"...is just getting started."  

"That’s—?!"  

Marui and Jackal (Rikkai) recoiled.  

"Devil Mode?!"  

Chapter 347: Kite’s Evolution – The Radiance of Corruption (Part 1)  

Blood-red hair. Cold, ruthless eyes. At this moment, Kite gave off an extremely dangerous aura.  

"Demon Mode?"  

The other middle schoolers quickly realized what was happening.  

If they remembered correctly, this was the same special state that Ryouma Kirihara from Rikkai Dai had awakened during the Kanto Tournament.  

In this state, a player’s aggression surged, increasing the likelihood of malicious attacks. Of course, Kite’s personality was never exactly pleasant to begin with. Among middle schoolers, Higa’s playing style was already the most underhanded.  

"At this rate," Fuji said with a sigh, "the match is going to get brutal."  

The others tensed at his words.  

Thud. 

Thud. 

Thud.  

Soon, the second set began.  

Kite, his hair now crimson, bounced the ball at a steady, controlled pace—unlike Kirihara’s frenzied, bloodthirsty aggression in Demon Mode.  

"Senior Tohno," Kite said, gripping the ball, his face still marked with scratches. He looked up with a chilling smile. "Thank you for helping me unlock this power. Now, let me return the favor."  

Whoosh.  

He tossed the ball into the air.  

"Heh." Tohno smirked, unfazed. "Surviving seven of my Execution Techniques and still standing? Not bad. Let’s see just how far you can go."  

Boom!  

Kite served.  

The ball shot straight toward the far corner of Tohno’s service box.  

Fwip!  

Just as everyone wondered why he hadn’t used [Big Bang] or [Sidewinder], the ball suddenly accelerated.  

"Oh?" Tohno’s eyes flickered with surprise. "Changed your style? Too bad—still amateurish."  

Boom!  

The ball landed, and Tohno smoothly raised his racket to return it.  

Swish!  

But the moment it bounced, the ball accelerated again.  

"What?!"  

Tohno’s expression twisted in shock. With no time to react properly, he barely managed to block with his racket.  

Bang!  

The impact sent him stumbling back several steps.  

Whoosh!  

Meanwhile, Kite closed the distance instantly with [Shukuchihou], positioning himself perfectly. As he swung, his eyes gleamed with cold intent.  

"Damn brat!" Tohno scowled, still shaken but now on high alert. "Is it Big Bang or Sidewinder?!"  

He braced himself, trying to predict Kite’s next move.  

Flick!  

Kite’s wrist snapped forward—faster than before.  

CRACK!  

A sharp sound split the air as multiple shadowy afterimages twisted through the air like venomous snakes, their trajectories impossible to track.  

"Sidewinder?!" The spectators gasped.  

"But—there are so many?!"  

The entire court was engulfed in a storm of black streaks, making it impossible to distinguish the real ball.  

"Okinawan Ancient Martial Arts: Dragon Shot." Kite’s voice was icy.  

Whoosh! 

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!  

The phantom shots morphed into a barrage of unpredictable trajectories, all converging on Tohno.  

"Bluffing won’t save you!" Tohno snarled, focusing intently on the incoming barrage.  

"There!"  

After a split-second analysis, he spotted the real ball hidden among the illusions. Without hesitation, he swung—  

BANG!  

—and cleanly struck the real shot.  

"What?!" The Higa players were stunned.  

They had expected Kite’s new technique to at least score against Tohno. Yet it had been countered so easily?  

Swish!  

But then—another sound.  

"Huh?!"  

Tohno’s eyes widened as a second ball, lightning-fast, suddenly materialized and hurtled toward his face.  

BAM!  

The next moment, the brutal Executioner was sent crashing to the ground by a direct headshot.  

"Okinawan Ancient Martial Arts: Twin Dragon Breaker." Kite’s voice was devoid of emotion.  

"This guy…" Mouri, Kanata, and the others scowled.  

"He hid a second ball in his swing," Tokugawa said grimly. "Tricked Tohno completely."  

"Exactly," Mitsuya nodded. "Like a martial artist’s hidden strike—the real attack comes from where you least expect it."  

The other high schoolers shook their heads.  

Tohno, a master of brutal tennis, had just been outplayed at his own game.  

That headshot had been brutal.  

But—  

From Byoudouin and Oni down to the lowest-ranked second-stringers—no one questioned Kite’s tactics.  

Under U-17 rules, multiple-ball plays were perfectly legal. Whether it was two balls or twenty, the coaches and referees wouldn’t bat an eye.  

As for Tohno?  

If he couldn’t see through the trick, that was his weakness.  

"Cough… cough…"  

Tohno staggered to his feet, his vision swimming.  

Kite’s shot had hit hard. If not for the intense training he’d undergone after taking Ishikawa’s brutal serves, he might’ve been out cold for minutes.  

"As expected of the Top 10," Kite said mockingly. "Taking a hit like that and still standing."  

"You little—!" Tohno’s face twisted in fury.  

Boom!  

But Kite didn’t give him time to retort, immediately firing another serve.  

From then on, the match became a fierce back-and-forth.  

No flashy techniques—just ruthless, precision strikes as both players pushed their limits.  

"Kite Eishirou…" Atobe narrowed his eyes from the sidelines. "When did he get this strong?"  

As a Top 10 player, Tohno’s skill was undeniable. Yet Kite—despite enduring seven Execution Techniques—was now matching him blow for blow.  

"This isn’t Demon Mode," Mukahi noted. "His rhythm is controlled, his malice calculated. He’s more composed than usual."  

"One question," a quiet voice cut in—Hiyoshi. "Why didn’t he use this in the first set? With his pride, there’s no way he’d willingly humiliate himself in front of everyone."  

"…Good point." Atobe’s gaze sharpened. "Unless… he wanted this."  

His [Insight] picked up subtle changes in Kite’s demeanor.  

"He let Tohno’s attacks push him to this state."  

The others exchanged uneasy glances.  

Tohno’s brutality was no joke—one wrong move, and Kite could’ve been seriously injured. Was he really that reckless?  

"Suppressing malice, amplifying negativity…" Ishikawa, watching from the stands, raised an eyebrow. "He merged his consciousness with his own darkness?"  

Kite’s method resembled how Yukimura and the others had pressured Kirihara during the Nationals.  

But unlike Kirihara, Kite had done this deliberately—and with far more ruthlessness.  

"What has he been doing all this time?"  

Ishikawa studied Kite closely.  

His growth was undeniable. In raw skill, he was now on par with Atobe and Sanada.  

And this pseudo-Demon Mode? It amplified Kite’s natural playstyle to terrifying levels, letting him go toe-to-toe with U-17’s No. 8.  

Tap!  

Suddenly, Kite dropped a short shot.  

Tohno lunged, deliberately lobbing it high—a clear trap.  

"Kite, watch out!" Higa’s players shouted, recognizing Tohno’s setup for another Execution Technique.  

But Kite wasn’t fooled. He leapt, swinging down with a two-handed smash.  

BOOM!  

The ball rocketed toward Tohno like a cannonball.  

"Execution Technique No. 6: Cement Shoes!"  

Tohno’s eyes gleamed as he aimed for Kite’s left foot.  

Thud!  

But the moment his racket connected—  

"This power—?!"  

Clatter.  

His racket was knocked clean out of his hand.  

Thwack!  

The ball plowed straight into his gut, sending him crashing down again.  

"Okinawan Ancient Martial Arts: Iron Cannon."  

Kite landed smoothly, his face an emotionless mask.  

No triumph. No pity. Just cold efficiency.  

"H-He’s too strong…" The high schoolers shuddered.  

Kite’s presence had grown even more terrifying. And now—a dark, crimson aura flickered around him.  

"Two consciousnesses fused?" Ishikawa’s eyes narrowed.  

If Kite had truly merged his normal self with his darker impulses, this wasn’t just a simple power boost—it was exponential growth.  

"What kind of training did he go through?"  

"Hmm?"  

Meanwhile, Duke Watanabe—usually cheerful and relaxed—suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening.  

"This aura…"  

"The Radiance of Corruption?!"  

Elsewhere, Ryoga Echizen watched with rare interest.  

"Didn’t expect to see this here."  

"Huh?" Ryoma frowned. "You know this state?"  

Even he felt uneasy facing Kite now.  

"Yeah. Met someone like this before." Ryoga nodded. "It’s dangerous—it devours an opponent’s light, eroding their will."  

"Devours… light?" Ryoma’s eyes widened. "You mean—?"  

"Exactly." Ryoga smirked. **"It’s the dark counterpart to the Muga no Kyouchi—the Corrupted Muga."**  

"What?!"  

Meanwhile, Tohno’s rage reached its peak. He unleashed every Execution Technique in his arsenal, forcing Kite on the defensive.  

But despite taking several brutal hits, Kite’s monstrous endurance kept him standing.  

Worse—  

The dark red aura around him pulsed, subtly draining Tohno’s fighting spirit.  

"This is bad…" The high schoolers muttered as Kite inched closer to victory.  

But just as it seemed over—Tohno made one final, desperate gamble.  

Summoning every ounce of strength, he unleashed his ultimate technique:  

"Execution Technique No. 12: Electric Chair!"  

Boom!  

But exhaustion had taken its toll.  

The shot was slow.  

"Is that all, senpai?" Kite sneered.  

He saw the trajectory clearly.  

"Game over."  

He swung—  

Swish!  

—only for the ball to swerve at the last second, slamming into his ribs.  

ZAP!  

A jolt of electricity coursed through him.  

"Guh—!"  

Tohno collapsed, unconscious.  

"That’s it?" Kite scoffed.  

Instead of pain, he felt… refreshed.  

"Took you long enough," he muttered, stepping forward to finish the match—  

—when suddenly, the world tilted.  

Thud.  

Kite crumpled to the ground.  

"I—I can’t move?!"  

His mind was clear, but his body refused to respond—as if paralyzed.  

Chapter 348: A Showdown Between Seniors and Juniors  

On the court.  

Tono and Kite lay collapsed on the ground.  

One was unconscious, while the other had completely lost control of his body. The bizarre scene left the entire stadium in stunned silence.  

"Um…"  

The referee on the high chair glanced at the unconscious Tono, then at Kite, whose eyes were wide with disbelief. After a brief hesitation, he spoke up. "Kite, can you—"  

"No need to ask."  

At that moment, Byodoin—standing on the steps with his arms crossed—cut in. "After enduring all thirteen of Tono’s Execution Techniques, no one would be able to move a single finger."  

"I see…"  

The referee paused, then turned to the three figures on the distant platform. Among them, the curly-haired coach in a light-colored suit gave him a slight nod.  

"Understood."  

With approval granted, the referee announced, "Since both players are unable to continue, this match ends in a draw."  

A draw?!  

The spectators—both middle schoolers and high schoolers—were left speechless.  

"K-Kirihara…"  

The members of Biga Middle School struggled to accept the outcome. But with Byodoin’s declaration and Kite’s current state—conscious but no better off than his opponent—there was little they could say.  

In fact, in some ways, Kite’s humiliation was worse precisely because he was still aware.  

Before anyone could protest, medical staff arrived with stretchers, swiftly carrying both players away. The high schoolers, however, barely reacted—as if this were nothing out of the ordinary.  

"So… this is the Ranking Matches?"  

Players like Oshitari and Fuji exchanged uneasy glances.  

"Attention."  

Kurobe’s voice rang out from the second-floor platform. "Due to Tono Atsukyo and Kite Eishiro both being incapacitated, the first Ranking Match is void. Others may take their place and continue competing."  

He paused before adding, "However, given the unusual circumstances, both players retain the right to challenge the winners of any subsequent matches."  

"What?!"  

The announcement brought the previously eager players to a standstill.  

Even bold personalities like Hiyoshi, Kirihara, and Momoshiro hesitated.  

No way.  

They’d all witnessed just how brutal the match had been. Even Kirihara—who relished violent tennis in his Devil Mode—had no desire to face either of those two.  

Other high schoolers, like Akitsu and Hakamada, stayed rooted in place, showing no intention of stepping forward.  

And so, the once-bustling court fell into an awkward silence.  

"Ahem."  

Kurobe cleared his throat. "In that case, the first match is concluded. Referee, proceed with the second match."  

"Understood." The referee nodded before addressing the crowd. "All participants for the second match, please step forward now."  

Thud.  

A lanky high schooler with fiery orange curls strode onto the court, racket in hand.  

"That’s—!"  

Many of the middle schoolers recognized him instantly. Wasn’t he the former ace of Rikkai Dai?  

"Mouri-senpai?!"  

Marui and Jackal stared in shock.  

Thud.  

Another high schooler emerged—tall, with messy orange hair and sharp, piercing eyes.  

"Harada-senpai?!"  

This time, it was Shitenhouji’s turn to be surprised.  

"Who is he?"  

Choutarou glanced at Tanishi, who explained, "That’s Harada Tetsuya—Shitenhouji’s former ace. He’d already left the club by the time I transferred."  

"Rikkai Dai vs. Shitenhouji, huh?"  

Choutarou’s gaze lingered on the [No.9] and [No.10] badges pinned to their collars. Something told him this match wouldn’t be straightforward.  

"Hm?"  

Just as everyone assumed this would be a high schooler-only match, both Mouri and Harada took positions on opposite ends of the court.  

"Wait…" Inui adjusted his glasses. "Are they playing doubles?"  

Doubles?!  

The crowd buzzed with confusion.  

Kurobe’s voice cut through the chatter. "Doubles matches are permitted. The winning pair will secure two spots."  

"Really?"  

Excitement rippled through the middle schoolers. Weaker players eyed the stronger ones, hoping to hitch a ride to victory.  

Thud.  

But before anyone could make a move, a silver-haired figure in a yellow-and-black jacket stepped forward.  

"Yanagi?!"  

Marui and Jackal exchanged glances. Hadn’t he already earned the No.16 badge? Even if it was meaningless now, after yesterday’s grueling match, shouldn’t he be resting?  

Others turned to another Rikkai player—Yagyuu Hiroshi, Yanagi’s usual doubles partner. Surely, Rikkai’s strongest hidden duo would take the court now.  

But Yagyuu showed no intention of moving.  

"I’ll go."  

A calm voice spoke up.  

All eyes turned to a handsome, silver-haired boy in a teal-green jacket—his expression steady as he walked forward.  

"Shiraishi?!"  

The crowd stirred. Even the high schoolers tensed. This was one of the few middle schoolers who had broken into Court No.5. After witnessing Kite’s ferocity, no one dared underestimate a Court No.5 player.  

"Oh? This lineup…"  

Atobe and Tezuka exchanged glances.  

This was a battle between seniors and juniors—Rikkai and Shitenhouji’s past and present aces, facing off at last.  

"Long time no see, Shiraishi."  

At the net, Harada grinned.  

"Yeah." Shiraishi nodded. "Last time was November, during the final team selections. A whole year has passed."  

"Sure has." Harada’s smile widened. "Back then, I regretted not getting to play you properly. Never thought we’d meet here."  

His gaze dropped to Shiraishi’s wrist. "Heard you finally took that thing off?"  

"Hm."  

Shiraishi’s brow arched slightly. He remembered Harada being in his bracket back then—only to withdraw last minute, citing illness.  

But now…  

Something told him there was more to it.  

"It’s been a while, Yanagi."  

On the other side, Mouri greeted his junior. Yanagi gave a curt nod but said nothing.  

Mouri didn’t mind. Yanagi had always been reserved, and they’d never been close at Rikkai.  

But now, Mouri could sense it—Yanagi had changed.  

No longer just pretending to be mature, he carried himself like a true ace.  

Mouri had originally hoped to face Sanada, but now…  

This might be even more interesting.  

"The second Ranking Match will now begin."  

The referee’s voice boomed across the stadium.  

"Representing the U-17 Team:  

• No.9 Mouri Juushirou (1st Year High School)  

• No.10 Harada Tetsuya (1st Year High School) 

Versus the Challenger Team:  

• Yanagi Renji (3rd Year Middle School)  

• Shiraishi Kuranosuke (3rd Year Middle School). 

Players, prepare yourselves."  

Chapter 349: The Realm of the Bible (Part 1)  

"The match will be best-of-three sets."  

The referee glanced at the players taking their positions and announced, "First set, second team's Shiraishi to serve. Game start!"  

Tap… Tap… Tap…  

As soon as the words were spoken, all eyes turned to the baseline, where a figure was lightly bouncing the tennis ball.  

"Shiraishi Kuranosuke…"  

One of the high schoolers narrowed his eyes. "Does anyone else feel like there’s something hidden under the bandages on his left wrist?"  

"Yeah." Others nodded in agreement.  

To them, it seemed almost arrogant—wearing what appeared to be weights in such a crucial match.  

But the middle schoolers, especially those from Shitenhouji, knew better. They remembered clearly: during the Nationals, Shiraishi had already returned the golden wristband beneath those bandages to Coach Watanabe.  

After all, that thing had been Watanabe’s entire life savings. None of them would’ve dared to keep carrying it around once exposed.  

Whoosh!  

Shiraishi tossed the ball into the air, his body stretching upward as his racket snapped forward with precision.  

Bang!  

A crisp impact echoed as the ball bulleted toward Harada’s right service box.  

"Not bad."  

Harada smirked inwardly.  

From this serve alone, it was clear Shiraishi’s fundamentals had improved significantly. That only made him more eager for what was to come.  

Bang!  

Harada returned the shot with a sharp, aggressive drive—aimed straight at Shiraishi’s left corner.  

Thud! Thud!  

Shiraishi reacted instantly, dashing to intercept and firing back another baseline shot.  

Bang! Bang! Bang!  

In moments, the two were locked in a blistering baseline rally—fast, precise, and relentless.  

"Are these two… planning to settle this one-on-one?"  

The spectators quickly caught on. Meanwhile, Mouri and Yanagi stood calmly, neither interfering.  

It was clear—this was intentional.  

Bang! Bang! Bang!  

Twenty exchanges in, neither Shiraishi nor Harada showed any sign of fatigue. Their footwork and control remained flawless.  

"Should we wrap this up, senpai?"  

Shiraishi grinned as he returned another shot. "This is a doubles match. It’d be rude to keep ignoring our partners."  

"True."  

Harada chuckled. "Guess warm-up’s over."  

Warm-up?!  

The crowd stiffened.  

That intense rally… was just a warm-up?! Just how strong were these two?  

Tap!  

Suddenly, Harada flicked a drop shot.  

"Hm?"  

Yanagi’s eyes sharpened.  

His gaze locked onto Mouri, who was already edging forward. So they’re starting now?  

Bang!  

Yanagi reacted instantly, slicing a sharp crosscourt return—forcing Mouri to either halt his advance or watch the ball sail past.  

But Mouri didn’t stop.  

Whoosh!  

Harada suddenly appeared behind him, perfectly positioned to intercept Yanagi’s shot.  

"A trap?!"  

Yanagi’s pupils contracted.  

He realized too late—Harada’s drop shot had been bait.  

Thud!  

Yanagi backpedaled, adjusting his stance just in time to block Harada’s powerful drive. But the moment his racket connected—  

Clang!  

A jolt of force rattled through his arm, sending his racket clattering to the ground.  

Smash!  

Mouri didn’t hesitate—he leaped into the air and crushed the ball into the open court.  

"0-15!"  

"YES!!"  

The high schoolers erupted in cheers. Even the middle schoolers nodded grudgingly—that had been a brilliant play.  

"Tch."  

Yanagi picked up his racket, flexing his wrist. As a technical player, he knew when to let go rather than force a return. It might look weak, but it was smarter than risking injury.  

"You good?"  

Shiraishi walked over, concerned.  

"Fine."  

Yanagi shook his head. "Our serve game. Let’s not let them break us."  

Shiraishi nodded and returned to the baseline.  

Bang!  

This time, his serve was even sharper.  

As a left-hander, his natural spin made the ball curve viciously to the right after the bounce.  

"Solid serve."  

Mouri’s focus sharpened. Underestimating Shiraishi now would be a mistake.  

Bang!  

He returned with a deep drive, but Yanagi was already moving—his eyes locked onto Harada’s positioning.  

Smack!  

A body shot—aimed straight at Harada’s advancing foot!  

"A jammer?!"  

The high schoolers gasped.  

This middle schooler had some nerve! Harada, forced into an awkward stance, barely managed a weak return.  

Tap!  

Yanagi answered with a drop shot of his own.  

"Huh?"  

The crowd blinked—was he mimicking Harada’s earlier play?  

Whoosh!  

As Harada rushed forward, Yanagi feinted a jump—  

SMASH!  

—and spiked the ball downward with a vengeance.  

"He turned their own strategy against them!"  

But before the ball could land—  

Bang!  

Mouri appeared like a shadow, blasting the ball past Yanagi in a flash.  

"Nice try. But this is doubles."  

Yanagi’s lips thinned.  

He’d underestimated them. These two were stronger than the twins he’d faced yesterday.  

Bang!  

Shiraishi intercepted Mouri’s return, keeping the rally alive.  

"Don’t worry, Yanagi."  

Shiraishi’s voice was calm but firm. "Focus on attacking. I’ll handle the back."  

Yanagi exhaled and nodded.  

No more distractions.  

Bang! Thud! Smash!  

The match intensified.  

Mouri and Harada targeted the baseline relentlessly, but Shiraishi stood unshaken—returning every shot with machine-like precision.  

"There’s… no opening."  

Mouri’s brow furrowed. No matter how he analyzed Shiraishi’s stance, he couldn’t find a weakness.  

"That’s Shiraishi’s tennis."  

Harada smirked. "Flawless fundamentals. The only way past him is to overpower him."  

No tricks. No shortcuts. Just perfect, unwavering tennis.  

Fwip!  

Then—  

A golden streak shot between them.  

"15-15!"  

"What?!"  

Mouri and Harada stiffened.  

Yanagi lowered his racket, his piercing gaze locking onto them.  

"Did he just… read our weak point?"  

The two exchanged glances.  

This wasn’t good.  

Bang!  

They tightened their defense, but—  

Fwip!  

Another golden flash.  

"30-15!"  

"How?!"  

Harada’s eyes narrowed. "His vision’s that sharp?"  

Mouri’s grip tightened. Between Shiraishi’s impenetrable defense and Yanagi’s razor-sharp insight, this duo was far deadlier than expected.  

"Yanagi (senpai)…"  

Even Sanada and the other Rikkai members were stunned. Yanagi’s perception had reached another level.  

"Wait."  

The twins, Uesugi Haru and Uesugi Aki, frowned. "He feels stronger than yesterday."  

Had he been hiding his true ability?  

"Interesting."  

Byoudouin, watching from above, suddenly spoke. "Didn’t expect him to have this kind of power."  

"Him?"  

The other U-17 elites followed his gaze—but instead of Yanagi, Byoudouin was staring at Shiraishi.  

"Shiraishi?"  

They exchanged confused glances. Wasn’t Yanagi the one scoring points?  

"As expected of Shiraishi-senpai."  

Ishikawa, standing at the core of the U-17 team, smiled.  

"That unshakable presence—the absolute reliability that boosts his partner’s focus and sharpness."  

He crossed his arms.  

"You could call it… 

The Realm of the Bible."**  

Chapter 350: The Tiger’s Momentum – A New Alloy Wristguard  

Thud!  

"40-15!"  

Thud!  

"Game!"  

"Second String leads, 1-0. Change sides!"  

In the blink of an eye, Shiraishi and Yanagi had taken the first game.  

Their coordination, initially awkward, was visibly improving with each exchange.  

"These middle schoolers…"  

Many of the high schoolers felt a chill.  

The duo’s synergy was evolving in real time.  

"Hmm."  

Outside the court, Nakagauchi from Court 3 muttered, "This year’s middle schoolers… their talent is terrifying."  

"Yeah."  

Tsutomu Doumoto nodded grimly.  

He could hardly believe that two third-year middle schoolers—neither of whom ranked among the elite—could return Idate Otoko’s signature moves.  

Then again…  

The current top player in U-17 was also a middle schooler—one who had crushed the two strongest high schoolers back-to-back.  

Put that way, this wasn’t so surprising.  

Thud!  

"Game!"  

"Second String leads, 2-0!"  

Thud!  

"Game!"  

"Second String leads, 3-0!"  

In no time, the middle schoolers claimed two more games, widening their lead to 3-0.  

"They’re strong."  

Hara Genichirou glanced at the silver-blue-haired boy across the net and sighed. "I didn’t expect a Rikkai Dai player to be this sharp."  

That perceptiveness was giving him flashbacks.  

"Oh, this is nothing."  

Mouri chuckled, waving a hand. "Yanagi’s skill ranks third or lower in Rikkai Dai’s lineup."  

"What?!"  

Several high schoolers gaped.  

"But," Mouri added, his gaze shifting to Shiraishi at the baseline, "the real problem in this doubles pair is your guy from Shitenhouji."  

Impenetrable defense.  

A unique ability to amplify his partner’s mental focus.  

This kid was built for doubles.  

"Shiraishi?" Hara grinned. "Of course. He’s the greatest captain Shitenhouji’s ever had!"  

"These two…"  

The middle schoolers frowned as they watched Hara and Mouri chat casually during the side change.  

Their calm was unnerving.  

If not for the score, you’d think they were the ones dominating.  

"Senpai," Shiraishi called out, "aren’t you going to show us your real strength soon?"  

"Patience," Hara laughed. "You’ll see it—right about now."  

The umpire’s voice rang out:  

"Fourth game! First String’s Hara to serve!"  

"Time to get serious."  

Hara bounced the ball, a confident smirk playing on his lips.  

"Shiraishi," he said, eyes glinting, "don’t blink. Feel my tennis."  

Boom!  

He unleashed a crushing serve.  

Thud!  

The ball struck the court, cracking the surface slightly as a shockwave of sound rippled outward.  

"This power—?!"  

Yanagi’s pupils contracted.  

Bracing himself, he swung—  

Crack!  

—and his expression twisted the moment the ball connected.  

"Too heavy!"  

He wasn’t a power player, but his technique usually compensated for raw force.  

Yet this?  

Unreal.  

Gritting his teeth, he quickly switched to a two-handed grip, barely managing to return it.  

"Not bad!" Hara grinned. "But that was just the appetizer. The main course is next!"  

Bam!  

Another brutal strike.  

This time, Shiraishi intercepted it—but even he flinched at the impact.  

The ball wasn’t just heavy; it spun violently, threatening to rip the racket from his hands.  

Yet he returned it.  

"Good, good." Hara nodded approvingly.  

He never expected to win in one shot.  

That wasn’t his style.  

During training with Ishikawa and Mouri, he’d honed a new approach—  

"Ferocity."  

Fast.  

"Power."  

Overwhelming.  

His original strengths—stamina and mental fortitude—were now enhanced by sheer aggression.  

Bam! Bam! Bam!  

Hara launched a relentless assault.  

His speed was blinding, his strikes thunderous.  

Shiraishi and Yanagi barely held on, rotating defenses to share the burden.  

One-on-one, they’d have collapsed already.  

"His rhythm’s speeding up." Yanagi’s grip tightened. "A lob might slow him down—"  

"No!" Shiraishi cut in sharply. "Hara’s best shot is the smash!"  

Yanagi’s face paled.  

If this was his baseline power, how devastating would a full-force smash be?  

"What’s wrong?" Hara taunted, winding up another strike. "World-class opponents won’t go easy on you!"  

Shiraishi and Yanagi exchanged a glance—then burned with resolve.  

"That’s the spirit."  

Hara’s racket flashed—  

Whoosh!  

—and a crimson streak tore through the air.  

"Too fast!!"  

The spectators gasped.  

Shiraishi and Yanagi both tracked it, lunging to intercept—  

Snap!  

—only for Shiraishi’s strings to snap on contact.  

"Hiss—!"  

The crowd recoiled.  

"That shot…"  

Choutarou Ootori and Yuushi Oshitari stiffened.  

"Bullet?!"  

They recognized it instantly—the signature move of Zeus, Shitenhouji’s legendary former captain.  

"Zeus," the now-second-stringer God himself muttered, "that’s not Bullet."  

His eyes locked onto the ball—still spinning, charred black against the wall.  

"It’s stronger."  

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he gave Hara a nod.  

Jealous? Maybe.  

His era lacked monsters like Byoudouin, Oni… or Ishikawa.  

A blessing and a curse.  

Bam! Bam! Bam!  

Hara’s onslaught continued.  

Game after game, he clawed back the score.  

Bam!  

"Game! First String, 1-3!"  

Bam!  

"Game! First String, 2-3!"  

Bam!  

"Game! First String, 3-3!"  

The match was tied—and Hara showed no signs of slowing.  

Thwack!  

In the seventh game, Yanagi served—  

—with windswept ferocity.  

"That’s—!"  

Yukimura’s eyes snapped open. "Swift as the Wind?!"  

"Wait."  

The Rikkai Dai players whirled toward their bench—  

—where Sanada still stood.  

Yet on the court?  

A black-capped figure with Sanada’s exact aura glared back.  

"Two Sanadas?!"  

"No."  

Renji smirked. "That’s Yanagi’s Phantom. He can mimic anyone."  

"A trickster?!"  

The U-17 elites murmured in surprise.  

Even Houou and Inui studied the transformed boy with interest.  

Bam!  

Hara blasted another return.  

Fwip!  

‘Sanada’ countered with a silken slice—  

"Gentle as the Forest!"  

—completely diffusing the power.  

"Fūrinkazan!" Inui adjusted his glasses. "He’s replicated all of Sanada’s techniques?"  

Thud!  

Next came an immovable stance—  

"Immovable as the Mountain!"  

—a fortress-like defense.  

Yet when the ball rebounded, the warped strings told the real story.  

"Even Mountain couldn’t stop it?!"  

Shiraishi moved in to assist, intercepting with a sharp edge strike—  

—only for Hara to explode with crimson aura.  

"Too soft!"  

His swing carried the force of a tiger’s pounce.  

BOOM!  

A blazing streak shot forth—  

—taking the form of a roaring tiger mid-flight.  

"Damn it!"  

Shiraishi charged, swinging his racket’s metal frame like a blade—  

CRACK!  

—and the impact hurled his racket away, the frame bent beyond use.  

"SHIRAISHI!!"  

Shitenhouji’s team screamed.  

The high schoolers winced.  

That reckless block would’ve shattered bones—  

—until the dust cleared.  

Revealing shredded bandages…  

And beneath them?  

A gleaming alloy wristguard.  

(End of Chapter.)