belamy20

291-295

Added 2025-05-21 17:19:25 +0000 UTC

Chapter 291: The Hyper-Speed Dimension Shines—The Decisive Moment! (Update 1)

"Even Boss’s ‘World Pirate’ didn’t work?!"

Outside the court.

Watanabe’s smile vanished, replaced by deep tension. In his memory, this had never happened to Byodoin.

Not even against Switzerland’s pro player—Amadeus, the current U-17 leader—had Byodoin been pushed this far.

Yet now, he was being suppressed.

The high schoolers watching, the three coaches observing from the second-floor platform, and even Tokugawa—standing in the No. 1 court zone with his arms crossed—were stunned.

"He’s actually being overwhelmed?!"

Tokugawa’s eyes gleamed with disbelief.

Yes, Ishikawa was strong. But Tokugawa, having faced him before, was confident he could’ve returned that last shot. At the very least, his Black Hole absolute defense would’ve held up.

For the usually reserved Tokugawa, this realization sent a thrill through him. If he had been the one facing Byodoin, the outcome might not have been much different!

"Senior."

As the dust settled, Ishikawa shook his head with a faint smile. "Isn’t it about time you lifted your restrictions?"

"Huh?!"

The high schoolers, still processing the match, froze at his words.

"N-no way…" Someone blurted out. "That kind of power… and he was still holding back?!"

Tokugawa’s fist clenched.

He didn’t want to believe it, but Ishikawa had no reason to lie.

"You noticed, huh?"

Byodoin cracked his neck, the sound like popping joints. "I’ll admit, you’re impressive." His gaze locked onto Ishikawa. "I thought restricting myself to 60% would be enough to crush you. But it seems I’ll have to go all out."

A flicker of approval crossed Byodoin’s eyes.

As the U-17 leader, he appreciated talent like this. Originally, his plan had been to mold Tokugawa into Japan’s next pillar through relentless pressure.

But Ishikawa?

He was a better option.

And the fact that he was only a first-year? Perfect.

The World Cup was held every two years—meaning Ishikawa’s peak would align perfectly with Japan’s next campaign. By then, he’d be strong enough to dominate the world.

"But before that…"

Byodoin tossed the ball up, his voice sharp. "Let me show you the vastness of the world!"

BANG!

The serve exploded like a gunshot.

The sheer pressure sent dust scattering like a blade, the ball slamming into Ishikawa’s backhand with surgical precision.

To the spectators, it was a blur—a distorted, nauseating sight that strained their focus.

THUD!

The ball rebounded, drilling into the wall with violent spin.

"Incredible!" Mouri couldn’t help but exclaim.

Unlike the raw power of earlier serves, this one was crafted—minimal wasted motion, perfect spin, and flawless control.

A pro-level serve.

"30-30!" the umpire called.

"He’s insane!"

Mouri and Tetsuya gaped.

"Is this the true strength of the No. 1 player?"

Aside from Oni’s Super-Gravity Dimension Serve, this was the first time they’d seen Ishikawa fail to return a serve.

BANG!

Byodoin served again.

A spiraling bullet, kicking up dust and wind, masking its trajectory.

THUD!

Ishikawa didn’t move.

"40-30!"

"Heh." Kaji smirked. "Finally realizing the gap between him and a pro?"

The other U-17 reps nodded.

Byodoin wasn’t officially a pro yet—but in their eyes, he was already on that level. They’d seen him dismantle geniuses, prodigies, and even national team leaders overseas.

Ishikawa was strong, yes.

But against Byodoin?

It was like a toddler trying to fight a titan.

BANG!

Another serve.

Another ace.

"Game! Byodoin leads 1-0! Change ends!"

"OOOOOH!!!"

The U-17 reps erupted in cheers.

To them, Byodoin was more than just their leader—he was their symbol. The idea of him losing to a rookie was unthinkable.

"Damn it! Three straight aces?!" Tetsuya gritted his teeth.

While the others rooted for Byodoin, he and Mouri were firmly in Ishikawa’s corner. Seeing him shut out like this was painful.

But then—

"Interesting. Is he hiding something?"

A deep voice cut through the noise.

Mouri turned.

It was Mares.

"Senpai," Mouri asked cautiously, "what do you mean?"

"You’ve seen him play before, right?" Mares’s piercing gaze fixed on him.

Mouri nodded.

How could he forget the match at the Kanto Tournament? It was the reason he’d pushed himself so hard.

Tetsuya glanced at him, surprised.

"If you’ve seen him then," Mares continued, "you know how strong he was. There’s no way he couldn’t return those serves."

"Right!" Mouri’s eyes widened.

Back then, Ishikawa had already returned Mares’s Mach Serve. Now, with his improved skills, pure speed shouldn’t be an issue.

"So then—"

"In high-level matches," Mares said coolly, "every shot has meaning. Especially in a battle like this."

"Got it."

Mouri and Tetsuya exchanged glances.

Ishikawa hadn’t tried to return those serves—because he was forcing Byodoin to go all out.

"Game 2! Ishikawa to serve!"

As they switched sides, Ishikawa tossed the ball high.

His body coiled like a spring—then unleashed.

WHOOSH!

The serve was invisible.

Byodoin’s instincts screamed at him to swing—but in that split second, something felt off.

The ball, which should’ve landed right in front of him, seemed to stretch away—as if space itself had warped, creating an uncrossable gap.

THUD!

The ball hit the wall behind him, spinning violently.

Silence.

From the outside, Byodoin hadn’t even moved.

"Ref."

Ishikawa’s calm voice broke the stillness.

The umpire hesitated.

Even with his experience, this match was beyond his ability to judge. Sweat beaded on his forehead under the crowd’s pressure.

"It’s fine."

Kurobe’s voice came from the second floor. "In matches like this, the players can confirm the score themselves."

"Understood."

The umpire looked to Ishikawa, who smiled.

"15-0, Ishikawa."

Byodoin didn’t protest.

"Score updated! 15-0, Ishikawa!"

"That serve…" Watanabe muttered, eyes wide.

It wasn’t just fast—it had crossed into the realm of Hyper-Speed Dimension Tennis.

In all of U-17, only Mares had reached that level. Even Byodoin hadn’t mastered it yet.

WHOOSH!

Three more aces.

"Game! 1-1!"

The crowd was speechless.

No explosions, no shockwaves—just absolute speed.

And with it, Ishikawa had earned the U-17 reps’ fear.

Hyper-Speed Dimension Tennis.

With this, he’d cemented himself among the world’s elite.

What had seemed like a one-sided match now hung in perfect balance.

The Decisive Moment

The first set stretched on, both players holding their serves with ease.

Six minutes later—

6-6.

A tiebreaker.

"A tiebreaker?!"

"Boss isn’t even trying to break his serve?!"

"It’s too fast! And this is just the first set—no point wasting energy now."

The U-17 reps argued, some shocked, others making excuses.

But one thing was clear:

Without realizing it, they’d started seeing Ishikawa as Byodoin’s equal.

BOOM!

As the tiebreaker began, Byodoin’s aura erupted.

Golden flames of power surged around him, transforming him into something monstrous—a force of nature.

"Enough games."

His voice was ice. "Ishikawa… are you ready?"

SHING!

Ishikawa’s response was a blade of silver light—his Sword Intent (3rd Stage), sharper than ever.

Even without Asura Path or Muga no Kyouchi, this was his strongest standalone technique.

And now, after relentless training, it had reached a level where it could clash with Byodoin’s overwhelming presence.

CRACK!

The air between them split, lightning-like energy arcing across the court.

The crowd held its breath.

This was it.

The next few points wouldn’t just decide the set—they’d determine the new leader of Japan’s U-17.

Chapter 292: Professional-Level Duel - The Ultimate Technique That Reduces All to Dust (Part 2)

"Tiebreak begins."

"Byoudouin to serve."

The umpire's voice was tense after witnessing their explosive exchange.

Whoosh!

Byoudouin tossed the ball—same motion, same form—but the moment his racket connected, a blazing yellow streak shot across the court.

A professional-grade serve.

The high schoolers held their breath, eyes snapping to the silver-glowing figure on the opposite side.

Flick!

Ryoma moved.

His reflexes, honed by third-level swordsmanship intent, allowed him to track the ball's trajectory instantly. His swing—invisible to most—connected with a thunderous crack!

Boom!

The collision unleashed violent shockwaves. A stray gust sliced into the ground, carving a two-finger-deep trench.

"Tch!"

Spectators scrambled backward without prompting, retreating to the stands.

Yet around Ryoma, the turbulent winds parted like obedient servants.

"Incredible control!"

The top U-17 members watched in awe.

Byoudouin's serve demanded respect—even Ryoma had to dissipate some force. But the precision? Flawless. The way those razor-edged gusts avoided him entirely before he channeled the remaining energy into—

Flash!

A silver streak tore through the dust cloud.

From Byoudouin's perspective, a colossal tennis ball emerged like a meteor, bathed in eerie blue-green light.

"Good!"

He stepped forward, swinging with brutal force.

The Duel of Dimensions

In the mental realm, the skeletal pirate captain—now bulkier—swung a cutlass that seemed to shear space itself.

Clang!

A blade intercepted it.

A cloaked swordsman, bamboo hat shading his eyes, stood calmly on the deck.

"...Dangerous."

Byoudouin's voice carried rare wariness.

He'd thought this boy had potential. But now? This was no mentor-student match.

It was a death battle between equals.

Shing!

The pirate's cutlass blurred—only for the samurai to deflect and counter in one motion.

Slice!

The captain's coat split open.

Reality

Thud!

The ball whizzed past Byoudouin, his left sleeve fluttering to the ground.

"Ryoma leads, 1-0!"

The tiebreak rules were simple: First to seven points (with a two-point lead) won. Players alternated serves—one initial, then two each.

"Yes!"

Marui and Ohmagari cheered. If Ryoma held his serves, victory was within reach.

"Byoudouin slipped up," muttered Tokugawa.

A costly error. Now Ryoma would unleash his Stardust Serve—a shot rivaling Mouri's Mach. Could Byoudouin even return it?

Boom!

The answer came instantly.

A shimmering streak, dotted with cosmic light, seemed to disconnect the audience's minds from their bodies. Even Byoudouin's vision distorted—the ball appearing to accelerate away.

"Speed Dimension?"

His aura flared.

Crack!

He bludgeoned the serve back.

"He returned it?!"

Duke exhaled sharply. That serve would dominate pro circuits. Yet Byoudouin shattered its illusion through sheer willpower.

The Tides Turn

Slice!

In the mental realm, the pirate's cutlass nicked the samurai's cloak.

Bam!

Reality mirrored it—Byoudouin's riposte shot past Ryoma as his own coat tore.

"1-1!"

The crowd shuddered.

This was it. The true battle—where predictability died.

Boom! Crack! Bam!

Dust swirled as the two traded world-class techniques:

Byoudouin's Asura Path amplified his destruction.

Ryoma's analytical precision and multi-disciplinary skills kept pace.

"Ryoma, 6-5!"

"Byoudouin, 12-11!"

"Ryoma, 21-20!"

The score climbed relentlessly.

"How... long can this go on?" A trembling Akutsu whispered.

"Indefinitely," Mitsuya said grimly. "But if I had to bet—Byoudouin's stamina wins out."

Murmurs of agreement followed. Best-of-three matches favored endurance.

Yet—

Boom!

Ryoma showed zero fatigue.

Byoudouin's brow glistened. This wasn't just a match anymore.

It was a war of attrition.

And his instincts screamed: He might outlast me.

The Ultimate Technique

Whoosh!

Byoudouin's aura shifted—crimson darkness erupting around him.

Then—

Six Byoudouins appeared.

"Muga no Kyouchi?!"

The coaches paled.

The ultimate technique—No-Self State—where all possible swing trajectories became real. Only at impact would the illusions collapse into one true strike.

Unreadable. Unstoppable.

Crack!

Yet—

Thud!

Ryoma sprinted along the baseline and swung at empty air—

Bam!

—intercepting the ball cleanly.

"He... predicted it?!"

Even Duke gaped. This defied pro-level logic.

"Strong technique," Ryoma panted, sweat dripping. "But not enough."

"Monster," someone breathed.

Byoudouin's eyes narrowed.

Then—

Nine afterimages split from him.

Ten total.

"That's not Muga..." Kurobe's voice shook. **"It's Arayashiki—the pinnacle that reduces all to dust."**

The final gate.

The Consciousness of Ruin.

And it was here.

Chapter 293: A Battle Beyond Limits – The Flame of Life Extinguished!

Swish!

On the court, ten figures moved simultaneously.

The spectators felt dizzy just watching, followed by an overwhelming pressure.

This wasn’t just rapid-fire exchanges—this was ten players attacking at once. Even a professional would feel their scalp tingle at this sight!

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Suddenly, the ten figures collapsed into one. Ishikawa’s eyes had only managed to track eight of them.

But in a battle of this caliber, even that split-second delay was fatal.

BANG!

Byodoin’s return shot straight through Ishikawa’s defenses, landing squarely on the baseline.

The ball erupted in a flash of pale yellow light, leaving the high schoolers wide-eyed.

"49-49, Byodoin!"

The umpire’s call finally broke the suffocating tension.

But when the crowd saw Byodoin’s state, their hearts sank.

His eyes were rolled back, veins bulging across his forehead, his entire body wreathed in dark, hellish flames. Just looking at him made it hard to breathe.

"Alaya Vijñana!"

Watanabe’s eyelid twitched violently.

This was only the second time he’d seen Byodoin use this move. It was his ultimate technique—and his deadliest.

The word "deadly" applied not just to his opponent, but to himself.

Watanabe remembered that day clearly—a gloomy afternoon on the Swiss U-17 courts. Byodoin had been locked in a fierce battle with their top prodigy, Amadeus (who wasn’t yet a pro).

Just as Byodoin was being pushed to his limit, a bolt of lightning struck him mid-match.

The game ended abruptly.

Byodoin was rushed to the hospital—pronounced dead.

Yet he didn’t stay that way.

When he awoke, he had attained the ultimate secret: Alaya Vijñana.

Later, in Spain, he used it against their strongest genius, Medanore.

The result?

Byodoin injured—Medanore crippled.

Europe’s tennis world lost a top-tier talent that day, paving the way for Germany’s Borg to claim the title of "World’s Strongest High Schooler."

And now, in an internal ranking match, Byodoin had unleashed it again.

To Watanabe, this could only mean one thing:

A brutal ending for Ishikawa.

Once Alaya Vijñana activated, Byodoin entered Killer Mode.

Only two outcomes existed:

His opponent’s defeat—or his own death.

No one could stop it.

No one could change the result.

Whoosh!

Byodoin moved.

He tossed the ball, and in an instant, his figure split into ten.

"Again?!"

Mouri and Tetsuya’s hearts pounded.

They didn’t know about Muga no Kyouchi, let alone Alaya Vijñana. To them, tracking two illusions was their limit. Seven was already insane.

But ten?

That was tennis from another dimension.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

As the ten Byodoin clones moved in unison, the spectators felt their breath hitch.

Whoosh!

Then—they merged into one.

The racket struck.

A serve aimed at the outer corner—Ishikawa’s backhand.

Boosted by Alaya Vijñana and Asura Path, the shot reached monstrous levels of power.

To the untrained eye, it was over in a flash.

But the stronger the player, the more they sensed the terror behind it.

To the U-17 elites—even Mares, who had one foot in the Hyper-Speed Dimension—this serve was unreturnable.

BANG!

Yet—

The sound of a clean return echoed across the court.

"He hit it?!"

"How?!"

"That’s impossible!!"

Shock rippled through the crowd.

Ishikawa had not only seen through the serve—he’d returned it on the second try.

"Wait… is that Asura Path?!"

Up on the second-floor platform, the three coaches’ pupils contracted sharply.

They never expected Ishikawa to have mastered this power.

"But… that doesn’t make sense."

Saito’s voice trembled. "Byodoin has both Asura Path and Alaya Vijñana. How did Ishikawa return it?!"

By pure stats, Byodoin and Ishikawa were roughly equal.

But simple math said:

Asura Path + Alaya Vijñana > Asura Path alone.

Kurobe narrowed his eyes, focusing on Ishikawa. "Look closer. His power isn’t just Asura Path."

"What?!"

Saito and Tokugawa followed his gaze.

Sure enough, swirling around Ishikawa’s dark, razor-sharp aura was another energy—a chaotic mix of black and white.

"No way…" Saito’s face paled. "T-Two different Asura Paths?!"

Swish!

Across the net, Byodoin split into ten again.

"Your abilities are impressive," Ishikawa said, his voice calm despite the overwhelming pressure. "But Muga no Kyouchi and Alaya Vijñana share one fatal flaw."

A flaw?

The crowd stared, baffled.

BANG!

The ten figures merged. Byodoin’s racket smashed into the ball.

Tap! Tap!

Ishikawa moved before the ball landed, positioning himself perfectly. As it bounced up—

CRACK!

He returned it cleanly.

"Again?!"

Watanabe’s jaw dropped.

"Unpredictable attacks are terrifying," Ishikawa continued. "But while the present is uncertain… the future is not."

Hum!

Behind him, a phantom emerged—a figure holding a single chess piece, radiating wisdom.

Asura Path: Omniscience and Omnipotence.

To Ishikawa, the court was now a chessboard.

Air temperature, humidity, wind direction, spin angles—every variable was mapped in his mind.

Like a supercomputer, he calculated all possibilities—and arrived at the one solution.

Click.

The phantom’s piece landed on a corner of the court. Black and white light erupted.

Thud!

The ball rebounded off the wall, rolling gently.

"Gulp."

The umpire swallowed hard. "50-49… Ishikawa."

"No way!"

Watanabe looked at Ishikawa like he was seeing a ghost.

Two Asura Paths?

And the second one hard-countered Alaya Vijñana?!

"Just what are you?!" he whispered.

"Hah… hah…"

On the other side, Byodoin gasped for air.

Even his body was struggling under the strain of dual powers.

"Two Asura Paths…" He raised his head, locking eyes with Ishikawa. "You’re dangerous. But this is your limit. Merging them is beyond you right now."

Steadying himself, he took his return stance.

Hum!

Dark energy flared around him again.

BANG!

Ishikawa served—Stardust Mark.

Amplified by Asura Path, the ball breached the Hyper-Speed Dimension.

Swish!

Byodoin split into ten.

Then—

Eleven.

"What?!"

The crowd gasped.

"There’s a level beyond Alaya Vijñana?!" Kikumaru muttered.

Eleven.

Each additional figure was a qualitative leap. For Ishikawa’s Omniscience, this meant exponential calculation growth.

His power worked like AI—processing endless data to predict the future.

More variables meant more computations.

Even Ishikawa’s prediction flickered between two outcomes.

But his monstrous mental strength compensated. In a split-second, he locked onto the answer.

BANG!

His racket met the ball.

Swish!

Byodoin split again—twelve figures now.

"Guh—!"

Mouri and Tetsuya recoiled.

"He still had this much left?!"

But Mares noticed something else—Byodoin’s shoes, now stained red.

His body was breaking.

Every shot from here was burning his life force.

Yet he didn’t hesitate.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Twelve figures swung. Twelve different trajectories.

Ishikawa’s face paled slightly under the strain.

BANG!

But he returned it.

"Insane!"

Watanabe was numb.

He’d countered twelve Alaya Vijñana clones?!

Swish!

Then—thirteen.

"Monster!!"

The crowd was speechless.

"It’s over," Kurobe said quietly. "Byodoin’s pushed Alaya Vijñana to a realm even pros rarely reach."

The cost was his life—but the match’s outcome was decided.

No matter how strong Ishikawa was, his Asura Path couldn’t handle this.

U-17 was still Byodoin’s domain.

Swish!

But then—

Ishikawa split into multiple figures.

"Muga no Kyouchi?!"

For a moment, the crowd thought they were hallucinating.

Seven Ishikawa clones glowed with that same black-and-white energy, analyzing futures in parallel.

Swish!

They merged.

Muga no Kyouchi and Omniscience combined, bridging the gap in perception.

BANG!

The ball rocketed back.

"He… returned it?!"

Watanabe was beyond shock.

Thirteen Alaya Vijñana clones—shattered.

Swish!

Byodoin split again, holding at thirteen. Any further, and he’d die.

Even so, his shoes were now soaked in blood.

Crimson streaks marred his face and arms.

He was betting everything on this match.

Ishikawa, too, radiated terrifying energy—Muga no Kyouchi and Asura Path fused into something deeper, darker.

With Omniscience, he countered Byodoin’s moves at minimal cost.

BANG! CRACK! BANG! CRACK!

The final points were a war of attrition.

Each shot pushed their bodies closer to collapse.

But Byodoin was worse off.

The court was littered with his bloody footprints. Every step burned his lifespan.

"Is this… my limit?"

His vision blurred. The fire inside him dimmed.

Yet his eyes blazed with resolve.

Even if it killed him—he’d win this set.

Swish!

Thirteen figures became fourteen.

"Fourteen?!!"

The crowd’s minds short-circuited.

"This point… is mine!"

BANG!

The figures merged.

The ball tore through space, aimed at Ishikawa’s backhand—beyond his calculations.

To everyone watching, Ishikawa stood frozen.

Hum!

But then—

The ball stopped.

Hovering beside Ishikawa, trapped in a patch of blackness.

"Black Hole?!" Tokugawa gasped.

BANG!

Ishikawa swung.

The ball exploded at Byodoin’s feet.

He didn’t move.

"G-Game and first set!" The umpire’s voice shook. "Ishikawa wins, 7-6!"

Silence.

Every eye turned to the towering blonde figure.

He’d lost.

Just the first set—but after that battle, the message was clear:

Japan’s No. 1 had been beaten in a direct clash.

The crowd waited for the king’s reaction.

But Byodoin didn’t move.

He stood like a statue.

"B-Byodoin?" the umpire ventured. "The set is over. You may rest now."

Thud.

Then—he collapsed backward.

"Eh?"

The crowd froze.

"BOSS!!"

Watanabe sprinted onto the court, face white.

The other U-17 reps paled.

A horrifying thought struck them.

Chapter 294: A New No.1 is Born! (Part 1)

"BOSS!!!"

"Equaline!!!"

"Hurry—someone call the medics!!!"

The moment Equaline collapsed, the U-17 high schoolers were stunned. Duke Watanabe was the first to react, sprinting onto the court like a madman.

At the same time, the three coaches—who had just been worrying about the possibility of Ishikawa’s defeat and its unpredictable consequences—now wore expressions of sheer shock.

Kurobe, usually composed, barked orders at the staff before bolting down the stairs.

The other high schoolers exchanged uneasy glances.

No one had expected him—the invincible, tyrannical Equaline—to fall on the court.

The sight of the blood-streaked ground sent chills down their spines. The condition of their No.1 player was far from reassuring.

"The doctor’s here!"

Soon, the U-17 medical team rushed onto the scene.

"Move aside!"

The doctor took one look at Equaline—veins bulging on his forehead, face twisted in agony—and immediately dropped to his knees, beginning emergency treatment.

Chest compressions.

Rescue breaths.

Frantically checking his pupils.

"No good—get him to the ER! Kurobe, contact a major hospital in Tokyo. And…"

The doctor’s expression darkened.

"...Prepare for the worst."

Silence.

The high schoolers froze.

Especially the top-ranked players like Kojima and Oomagari. Their leader—the undefeated king who had crushed opponents across the globe—was in that critical of a condition?

"Understood."

Kurobe forced himself to stay calm.

He scanned the crowd, his voice stern.

"Everyone, disperse. Today’s practice match is canceled. No lingering."

But no one moved.

Not even the second-stringers, who normally cowered at the coaches’ orders.

Kurobe could only sigh. The atmosphere was suffocating.

Minutes later, the ambulance arrived. Equaline was loaded inside, and though many wanted to follow, Kurobe only allowed Duke Watanabe to accompany him.

As the ambulance disappeared, the tension thickened.

Then, Saotome turned toward the other side of the court, where Ishikawa stood with a solemn expression.

"Referee," Saotome said firmly. "Announce the results."

With Equaline gone—his fate unknown—U-17 needed a new leader, someone strong enough to steady the shaken team.

"R-right!"

The referee snapped out of his daze, his gaze settling on the lone black-haired boy still standing.

"Due to Equaline’s inability to continue… the winner is second-string representative, Ishikawa Shin!"

A hush fell over the crowd.

Every high schooler, including the top-ranked players, now looked at Ishikawa with awe.

The old king had fallen.

A new king had risen.

Though still a newcomer, Ishikawa—the former head of Court 3—had now defeated both Oni and Equaline, cementing himself as U-17’s strongest player.

The court remained heavy with tension, but the top players finally felt a flicker of stability.

[Ding!]

As the referee’s words faded, a system notification echoed in Ishikawa’s mind.

[Player has defeated boss-level opponent: Equaline Phoenix. Reward: 24,000 EXP.]

[Player has obtained special ability dropped by Equaline Phoenix: "Muga no Kyouchi" (Zone of Absolute Supremacy).]

[Detected duplicate ability. Merge?]

"Merge."

Without hesitation, Ishikawa confirmed.

A surge of energy flooded his consciousness. Fortunately, his mental resilience was strong enough to withstand it without flinching.

At the same time, his understanding of the eighth consciousness—*"Muga no Kyouchi"*—deepened. His already formidable mental power ascended to a new realm.

[Ding!]

[Player’s "Muga no Kyouchi" has evolved into "Arayashiki" (Alaya-vijñāna).]

"This feeling…!"

The overwhelming power threatened to spill out. Though Ishikawa restrained it, the razor-sharp intensity in his gaze still made the others shudder.

The high schoolers instinctively backed away, leaving only Ishikawa, Marui, and a few others on the court.

"Power leakage…"

Ishikawa exhaled slowly.

Arayashiki’s strength was immense—so much so that he couldn’t fully control the sudden surge, causing his aura to flare unintentionally.

"Ishikawa, are you okay?" Marui asked, concerned. "Do you need to get checked out?"

"Yeah," Hara added, equally worried. "If you’re feeling off, don’t push it."

Equaline’s collapse was still fresh in their minds. They didn’t want a repeat.

"Ishikawa," Saotome said firmly. "They’re right. After a match like that, a full check-up is necessary."

"I’m fine," Ishikawa reassured. "But if it’ll ease your minds, I’ll go."

Then, turning to Marui and Hara with a grin:

"Now that you’re top-ranked players, slacking isn’t an option. How about some training?"

"Huh?!"

They stared at him in disbelief.

Training?!

Hadn’t they just witnessed the insane physical toll of his match against Equaline? And he was already recovered enough for more?

But Ishikawa’s expression was dead serious.

"Ishikawa—" Saotome started, but Tanezaki cut in.

"It’s fine. High-intensity matches require proper cooldowns and stretches."

"...Alright."

Saotome relented.

He knew the truth—after defeating Equaline, Ishikawa was beyond U-17’s authority. Even the head coach would have to accommodate his requests now.

A player of his caliber could leave Japan anytime and instantly become a core member of any nation’s team.

"Hah…"

Watching Ishikawa, Marui, and Hara begin their warm-up jog, Saotome exhaled in relief.

Despite being a middle schooler, Ishikawa carried himself with the maturity of a seasoned pro. And compared to his post-match vigor, Equaline’s condition was far more concerning.

"Let’s just hope for the best… Hm?"

Saotome’s gaze shifted to the steps, where a lone figure stood frozen.

"Tokugawa… doesn’t look right."

Tokyo – Suzurandai General Hospital

One of Japan’s top medical facilities, renowned worldwide.

Outside the ICU, Kurobe and Duke Watanabe waited anxiously.

Equaline’s condition was dire. Despite arriving in under 30 minutes, Kurobe had felt his body temperature dropping during the ride.

Now, ten minutes into resuscitation, hope was fading.

The golden window was the first three minutes. Every second beyond lowered the chances.

Kurobe’s palms were slick with sweat. As a coach, he’d never been this shaken.

He’d always clashed with Equaline’s arrogance, but now, he was praying harder than anyone for his survival.

Not just as a player—but as a prodigy who could dominate the world stage.

Yet…

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty.

Thirty.

The ER doors remained shut. Kurobe’s heart sank.

Then—

Click.

The doors opened.

The doctor stepped out, mask hanging loose, exhaustion etched into his face.

"I’m sorry… We did everything we could."

Kurobe’s world stopped.

Just hours ago, Equaline had been an unstoppable force. Now…

The gurney rolled out.

Kurobe’s breath caught.

Equaline lay motionless, face pale, expression locked in a grimace.

But Duke Watanabe—seeing the same sight—suddenly relaxed.

Evening – U-17 Training Grounds

Ishikawa and Tokugawa were mid-match.

Tokugawa, still reeling from Equaline’s hospitalization, had sought distraction in tennis.

Thwack!

Ishikawa’s shot landed precisely on the baseline. Tokugawa barely registered it.

"Your focus is gone," Ishikawa said flatly. "This match is pointless."

Tokugawa grimaced.

He knew. His mind was elsewhere.

Equaline was his rival—his goal. He’d wanted to surpass him, to prove his own path right.

But not like this.

The thought of Equaline never playing again left him hollow.

"Again!"

Gritting his teeth, Tokugawa tossed the ball high, his racket arm bending back sharply.

Boom!

A *"Rainbow Serve"*—streaking through the air in a blur of colors before vanishing.

"Even faster?!" Marui and Hara gasped.

But Ishikawa didn’t move.

The ball landed—out.

Snap.

A large hand caught it mid-rebound.

Marui and Hara tensed.

"No. 3… Duke Watanabe?!"

The burly, plane-haired player strode onto the court, expression unreadable.

Was he here for revenge?

But instead—

He stopped before Ishikawa and held out a golden badge.

"No. 1."

"Keep it," Duke said calmly. "You earned it."

"Duke!" Tokugawa blurted. "Is Equaline—?!"

Duke tossed something at him.

Tokugawa caught it—and froze.

"This is…"

"It’s yours now," Duke said. "And don’t make careless mistakes. On the world stage, they’ll cost you your life."

"Wait!" Tokugawa’s voice cracked. "Does this mean Equaline is—?!"

Duke didn’t answer, turning to leave.

"Duke," Ishikawa called, smiling. "Tell Equaline I’ll hold onto this for him."

Duke stiffened—just for a second—before walking away.

Ishikawa’s smile deepened.

His worries had finally lifted.

The phoenix had risen from the ashes.

Chapter 295: Return to Hyotei, Reunion with Akutsu (2nd Update)

For several days, Byoudouin remained absent.

As a result, rumors about his condition—even whether he was still alive—became a hot topic among the U-17 high schoolers.

Ishikawa paid no attention to the gossip. As long as Byoudouin wasn’t dead, that was enough. After all, in the original storyline, this was a man who had survived being struck by lightning and even declared dead by doctors before reviving.

As Coach Mifune put it: As long as the flame of life still burns, Byoudouin will rise again.

To Ishikawa, this "flame of life" was simply a manifestation of sheer willpower—an unbreakable resolve, whether it was refusing to lose, leading his team forward, or becoming a professional player.

For Byoudouin, whose mental fortitude was already monstrous, neither victory nor defeat could shake his conviction. But there had to be something that could influence him—otherwise, tennis would hold no meaning for him.

As for Ishikawa himself, he spent these past few days consolidating the power he’d gained from comprehending [Ālaya Vijñāna]. After intense training, he had fully absorbed this newfound strength.

However, this ultimate power was a forbidden technique—one he wouldn’t use unless absolutely necessary.

Compared to the mysterious and dangerous Ālaya Vijñāna, abilities like [Sword Intent] were far more suitable for development. Unlike tennis techniques, special abilities couldn’t be enhanced with skill points.

At this stage, Ishikawa, like everyone else, had to refine these abilities through relentless effort. Fortunately, with his breakthrough in mental strength and the heightened perception from his mastery of Go, his progress would be much faster than others.

He had a feeling that soon, his special abilities would reach a new level.

But this morning, after finishing his usual training routine, Ishikawa changed clothes and went to the second-floor office to request leave from the three coaches.

"Leaving already?" Tokugawa raised an eyebrow. "Given your current condition, your physical stats still have room for improvement."

"A few days won’t make a difference," Ishikawa replied with a smile. "Besides, I promised the tennis club’s coach and seniors I’d return after a month."

"Fine." Tokugawa nodded. "With your discipline and judgment, you won’t slack off no matter where you are."

"Come back soon," Saitou added with a grin.

"Mm." Ishikawa glanced at Kurobe, exchanging a silent nod before turning to leave.

"Ah, what a good kid," Saitou sighed as he watched Ishikawa’s retreating figure. "It’s rare to find someone so strong, talented, and still polite."

"True." Tokugawa agreed.

Given Ishikawa’s status, he didn’t have to inform them before leaving. Back in the day, Byoudouin never even acknowledged them.

"Hm?" Noticing Kurobe’s thoughtful expression, Saitou tilted his head. "What’s wrong? Weren’t you the one who kept trying to drill manners into Byoudouin?"

"Don’t you think it’s strange?" Kurobe mused, gazing at Ishikawa’s distant figure. "From the day of the match until now, he’s never once asked about Byoudouin’s condition."

"Now that you mention it…" Saitou frowned. "You think…?"

"He probably already figured it out," Kurobe said, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, that’s no fun," Saitou groaned, waving a hand dismissively. "I was looking forward to surprising him."

Kurobe ignored him and changed the subject. "It’s about time we sent out the invitations to those fledglings."

"Oh?"

Saitou and Tokugawa exchanged glances before grinning mischievously.

Meanwhile…

After leaving U-17, Ishikawa took a train back to Tokyo.

He’d only informed Marui and Genichirou of his departure, along with the three coaches—more as a formality. As the No. 1 and a key figure in U-17’s order, he was expected to join the team for overseas expeditions when necessary.

This trip wouldn’t be long.

Besides, he had a feeling the middle schoolers would soon receive their invitations to U-17.

10:00 AM – Hyotei Academy

A month had passed since Ishikawa left. Summer break was over, and classes had resumed.

Since it wasn’t club activity time yet, the tennis courts were empty. With nothing else to do, Ishikawa wandered the campus.

Peeking into classrooms, he saw front-row students diligently studying while those in the back passed notes.

"Even in a prestigious school, there are slackers," he mused with a chuckle.

Just as he was about to head back to the tennis club, he heard a commotion near the restrooms.

"P-Please! I already gave all my money to Akutsu-senpai!"

"Akutsu?" A rough voice sneered. "That bastard’s stealing our business now?"

"Hurry up, hand it over! Next semester, Ryouya’s taking over as the middle school boss—once he replaces Atobe, no one’ll dare mess with you!"

"Interesting." Ishikawa shook his head.

Even in an elite school, delinquents existed. Wealth didn’t eliminate hierarchy—and where there was hierarchy, there were power struggles.

Atobe had been an exception, single-handedly suppressing all dissent. But now that he was leaving, the suppressed tensions were boiling over.

Just as Ishikawa was about to intervene, a familiar figure approached from the opposite hallway.

Spiky silver-white hair. A wild, untamed glare. Pale, almost sickly skin.

An unmistakable aura of danger.

Akutsu Jin.

"Well, this just got interesting."

As expected, Akutsu entered the restroom, and a scuffle broke out. Moments later, a group of dyed-haired boys scrambled out, howling in pain.

One had a bloody nose, his face swollen like a balloon.

"Run! This guy’s insane!"

"Never mess with him again!"

They fled in terror. Shortly after, a shorter boy—one eye bruised—emerged, clutching his bag.

Akutsu followed, wiping his hands.

"T-Thank you, senpai!" The boy bowed deeply.

"Tch." Akutsu scoffed. "If you don’t wanna get bullied, toughen up. You’re too damn short."

"Senpai…" The boy grimaced. "I tried joining clubs, but no one would take me because of my height."

Akutsu paused.

The kid reminded him of his old underling at Yamabuki. He wondered if the boy was still getting pushed around after he left.

That was why he’d stepped in this time.

But as he’d said—he couldn’t protect the kid forever.

"Hey."

A voice interrupted his thoughts. "If you want to join a club, try the tennis team."

"Huh?" The boy blinked. "Who are you—?"

"You’re back?" Akutsu’s voice cut in, sharp as a blade.

The boy froze.

Akutsu’s entire demeanor had shifted—his presence now suffocating, like a beast baring its fangs.

"G-Gulp." The boy swallowed hard.

This… This is Akutsu-senpai’s real aura?!

But what shocked him more was the stranger’s reaction—completely unfazed, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"Senpai," the stranger said, shaking his head. "I thought you’d stopped this kind of thing after transferring. But I guess if you’re taking money, you’d better do the job right."

"Is he crazy?!" The boy’s eyes widened.

Akutsu hated being told what to do. People who tried usually ended up worse off than the guys who’d just fled.

But to his shock, Akutsu didn’t explode. Instead, his glare deepened.

"I do what I want. Don’t lecture me."

"Wait, no!" The boy quickly intervened. "Akutsu-senpai didn’t take my money! He just told me to use his name if I got into trouble!"

"Oh?" Ishikawa raised an eyebrow.

Akutsu—helping someone?

"Hey, senpai." Ishikawa grinned. "Feel like a match?"

Akutsu’s foot, mid-step, halted.

The boy gasped as Akutsu’s aura surged—like a sleeping predator awakening.

Hyotei Tennis Courts

The usually empty courts now echoed with the sound of rapid-fire exchanges.