191-195

*Chapter 191: Shiraishi’s Resolve, The Golden Wristband (Part 2)*

“What… Atobe’s actually being overpowered?”

Seeing Atobe lose a point as Shiraishi broke his serve, Shiba’s face was full of disbelief.

“Shiraishi’s incredible!”

Inoue took a deep breath and nodded. “Kansai’s top player—his reputation’s well-earned.”

Shiraishi’s style wasn’t as flashy or aggressive as other national-level players.

But that was exactly what made it so brilliant. His adherence to fundamental tennis was, in its own way, the ultimate sophistication.

“Atobe’s a master at spotting his opponent’s weaknesses,” Inoue said with a hint of awe. “But against Shitenhoji’s captain, he’s met his match.”

Even in professional matches, certain styles naturally counter others.

Shiraishi’s approach was the perfect counter to Atobe’s. In a way, it was a style Hyotei’s team was familiar with.

Back in the day, Ishikawa had played a similar defensive-counter game.

With an ironclad defense, he’d wear down his opponent’s stamina while meticulously gathering data on their habits. The moment he spotted a chance to win, he’d strike with pinpoint precision.

It was a methodical, almost dull style—but undeniably perfect. Without overwhelming strength, breaking through was nearly impossible.

“But…”

On Hyotei’s side, Chotaro tilted his head, confused. “If I remember right, Rikkai Dai’s Yanagi-senpai is a national-level player too, isn’t he? Didn’t Atobe-buchou beat him pretty easily back then?”

“It’s not the same,” Oshitari said, shaking his head. “Shiraishi and Yanagi’s styles might seem similar, but they’re fundamentally different. Yanagi relies on data analysis, while Shiraishi’s game is rooted in flawless fundamental tennis.”

“By mastering perfect fundamentals, he brings out his full potential. Guys like that? They’re almost impossible to crack.”

The word perfect said it all.

Atobe’s Ice World wasn’t invincible. It couldn’t just X-ray an opponent and instantly reveal their flaws.

“Ugh,” Shishido grumbled, frowning. “So you’re saying until Atobe figures out Shiraishi’s style, he can’t use Ice World?”

“That’s exactly it,” Ishikawa said, nodding. “Every tennis style, no matter how unique, is built on fundamental rules. Unless there’s a massive skill gap, even Atobe-buchou can’t break that.”

Plus, there was another problem.

The enemy was in the shadows, while Atobe was in the light.

If Atobe kept up his relentless aggression, he’d never truly pinpoint Shiraishi’s weaknesses.

Seeming to realize this, Atobe shifted to a more cautious, defensive approach in the second game.

“So this is Hyotei’s captain?”

Watching Atobe switch to defense, Kenya Oshitari smirked. “And here I thought Yushi was hyping him up, saying Atobe’s got some unreal strength and convincing me to join Hyotei.”

“Not impressed,” second-year Koichi Zaizen said, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Where’s that ferocious momentum from the first game? And if he thinks he can just take his time to read Shiraishi, he’s dead wrong!”

The other Shitenhoji players nodded in agreement.

To them, a match was like a duel—a clash of spirit, skill, and stamina.

In other words, the classic trifecta of heart, technique, and body!

Compared to Shiraishi, Atobe was too cocky, already losing ground in the mental game.

As for technique, Atobe’s ball control was undeniably strong. But no matter how dazzling his skills, they couldn’t overpower Shiraishi’s simple, unadorned tennis.

Finally, stamina.

Rumor had it Atobe was Hyotei’s stamina king. If the match dragged into a war of attrition, it could shake things up.

But, as Coach Watanabe had said before the match:

For Shitenhoji, every game from here on out was to be treated like the finals.

So, Shiraishi would never give Atobe a chance to turn the tables!

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The duel raged on.

With Atobe on defense, Shiraishi didn’t press the attack. He stuck to his fundamental tennis—no flashy moves, just hitting the ball exactly where he intended, pure and simple.

Shot after shot.

Shiraishi was patient, and having studied Atobe’s personality and style beforehand, he quickly spotted a crack in his defense.

Thwack!

A clean shot scored.

“15-0!”

“Nice one!!!”

Kenya Oshitari and Zaizen pumped their fists in excitement.

“Shiten-ho-ji!”

“Shiten-ho-ji!”

“Shiten-ho-ji!”

Shitenhoji’s regular members chanted, their momentum overpowering Hyotei’s massive 200-strong cheering squad.

Shiraishi kept racking up points.

It was as if he had Atobe completely under his thumb.

Thwack!

“30-0!”

Thwack!

“40-0!”

In no time, Shiraishi had game point.

Yet he remained calm, rhythmically bouncing the ball.

“Keigo Atobe,” Shiraishi thought.

Unlike Kenya or Zaizen, he knew just how formidable Atobe was. He’d never underestimated him for a second.

“Maybe you’ll figure out my weakness eventually. But by then, the score gap will be too wide for you to close!”

Kuranosuke Shiraishi.

A player who lived by fundamental tennis.

To him, the essence of a tennis match was simple: hit the ball where your opponent couldn’t return it. His job was to make that process as straightforward as possible.

No need for flashy techniques or intimidating theatrics. Just execute the fundamentals perfectly—that was the ultimate tennis!

By contrast, players like Atobe, who obsessed over finding an opponent’s “weakness” and overanalyzed their every move, would never do something as foolish as sacrificing points for it. Shiraishi wouldn’t either.

Whoosh!

His eyes sharpened.

He tossed the ball up, aiming for the left-front corner of Atobe’s side and fired.

Thwack!

The ball hit the ground.

With a wicked sidespin, it rocketed outward.

“Great shot!” Inoue shouted from the sidelines. “Using his left-handed advantage to deliver a vicious sidespin. That serve’s practically flawless!”

Thwack!

But Atobe had anticipated it. The moment Shiraishi served, he moved, returning the ball with precision.

Tap, tap!

Across the net, Shiraishi sprinted.

His rhythm was fast. To seal this game, he did something rare—he went on the offensive.

Thwack!

This shot targeted Atobe’s right side.

Thwack!

When Atobe countered, Shiraishi attacked the left.

Back-and-forth shots kept Atobe on his toes. Only someone with Atobe’s reflexes could keep up—slower players would’ve already lost the point.

But seeing Shiraishi and Atobe switch roles, Shitenhoji’s team grinned confidently.

“It’s pointless,” Zaizen said with a smirk. “Just a futile struggle. Once Shiraishi goes on the attack, he always scores!”

Thwack!

At that moment, Shiraishi aimed for Atobe’s backhand, expecting to clinch the point. But out of nowhere, Atobe sped up, returning the shot.

“Not bad, Atobe!” Shiraishi thought, impressed.

Even with all his effort, he couldn’t fully suppress him. Atobe’s resilience was something else.

“But…”

A glint of determination flashed in Shiraishi’s eyes. He suddenly accelerated, charging toward the ball. “This point’s mine!”

Thwack!

He smashed the ball back.

“Flawless fundamental tennis,” Atobe thought, nodding in approval as the ball screamed toward him. But then, to the shock of Shitenhoji’s team, he sped up again, catching the ball.

“You’re the second toughest opponent I’ve ever faced,” Atobe said, locking eyes with Shiraishi. “But you’re not him. Your fundamental tennis isn’t quite there yet—your weaknesses can’t stay hidden.”

Whoosh!

A cold light flickered in Atobe’s eyes.

Swish, swish, swish!

In his vision, crystalline ice pillars rained down, embedding themselves around Shiraishi’s body.

“Your blind spots are wide open to me now!”

Thwack!

Atobe swung.

The ball rocketed toward one of the ice pillars.

Crack!

The pillar shattered.

The ball slipped through the gap between Shiraishi’s raised racket and his body.

Thwack!

“40-15!”

“What…?”

Shitenhoji’s team froze in shock.

“He… he couldn’t move?”

Shiraishi’s pupils trembled. Even with his composure, a wave of disbelief surged within him.

“It’s normal,” Atobe said from across the net. “No one can react to their blind spots.”

Snap!

He snapped his fingers, smirking. “This is ore-sama’s Ice World!”

“WOOO!!!”

Hyotei’s cheering squad exploded.

“Hyotei wins! Atobe’s the victor!”

“Hyotei wins! Atobe’s the victor!”

“Hyotei wins! Atobe’s the victor!”

The thunderous chants made some of Shitenhoji’s less seasoned members go pale.

“So this is Hyotei’s legendary momentum?”

Coach Watanabe raised an eyebrow from the sidelines but relaxed when he glanced at Shiraishi. “That guy? He won’t be shaken.”

As Shitenhoji’s captain, Shiraishi’s mental fortitude was beyond ordinary.

To Watanabe, Shiraishi had only exposed a weakness because he’d gotten too aggressive. If he returned to his earlier style, even Atobe wouldn’t be able to flip this game.

Thwack!

But then, as Shiraishi served, Atobe’s instant counter left Shitenhoji’s captain stunned once more.

“40-30!”

“What’s going on?!”

Zaizen stared at Shiraishi, panic creeping into his voice. He couldn’t fathom why their captain wasn’t reacting.

“It’s his blind spots!” Chitose said gravely. “Atobe’s seen through Shiraishi’s blind spots!”

His face was deadly serious.

“Blind spots” might sound like a simple term, but with Atobe, it was no exaggeration—it was literal.

“This match… Shiraishi’s in trouble.”

Thwack!

“Deuce (40-40)!”

Thwack!

“Advantage Hyotei!”

Thwack!

After losing points in a row, Shiraishi served again.

He stayed calm, recognizing his mistake and that Atobe had caught him out.

So, he moved cautiously, reverting to his defensive-counter style.

“Pointless,” Atobe said, returning the ball with a sharp glint in his eyes. “Your fundamental tennis is solid, but the disconnect between your upper and lower body is too obvious.”

Thwack!

He fired a shot, shattering another ice pillar beside Shiraishi.

“Game!”

“Hyotei’s Atobe, 1-1!”

The score was tied.

Hyotei’s morale surged.

Atobe held nothing back, relentlessly targeting Shiraishi’s blind spots.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

As time passed, Atobe kept scoring, tipping the scales toward Hyotei.

Thwack!

“Game!”

“Hyotei’s Atobe, 2-1!”

Thwack!

“Game!”

“Hyotei’s Atobe, 3-1!”

Thwack!

“Game!”

“Hyotei’s Atobe, 4-1!”

Thwack!

“Game!”

“Hyotei’s Atobe, 5-1!”

In the blink of an eye, Atobe had stormed to five games.

He’d completely dominated Shiraishi, now just one step away from clinching Singles 3!

“Hyotei!”

“Hyotei!”

“Hyotei!”

Hyotei’s team roared, their chants piling mental pressure on Shiraishi.

“It’s over,” Inoue said, shaking his head. “At this point, Shitenhoji’s chances of turning this around are basically zero.”

Truthfully, he hadn’t underestimated Shiraishi—in fact, he admired him more now.

Few players could stay so composed under this kind of pressure.

Since the tide turned, Shiraishi had handled every ball with near-perfection. But Atobe’s insight was just a cut above, completely suppressing him.

“So this is the strength of Kanto’s top school captain?”

On the court, feeling Atobe’s overwhelming presence, Shiraishi took a deep breath. To everyone’s surprise, he turned to the coach’s bench. “Coach, please let me use it.”

“Huh?”

Watanabe blinked, then grinned, tipping his hat slightly. “Go for it.”

“Wait, what?!”

Shitenhoji’s players, including Chitose, gasped in shock.

Shiraishi had another secret up his sleeve?

“Look at Buchou…”

One Shitenhoji member, wide-eyed with shock, pointed at Shiraishi on the court.

“Hm?”

Everyone turned.

As Shiraishi raised his left hand and began unwrapping his bandage, their faces paled.

“No, don’t!”

Kintaro, reacting on instinct, dove behind Gin Ishida. “Sh-Shiraishi, stop! I… I don’t wanna die!”

“What’s that?”

On Hyotei’s side, Oshitari, Shishido, and the others watched Shiraishi’s movements.

They couldn’t help but recall what Ishikawa had mentioned yesterday in the tennis club cafeteria.

“The Poison Hand?”

Atobe raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t buy into that kind of nonsense, but his eyes stayed locked on Shiraishi’s left wrist.

Swish!

The bandage came off completely.

Kintaro let out a terrified yelp, hiding fully behind his teammates.

But then… nothing scary happened.

Instead, a golden gleam flashed in everyone’s eyes.

“That’s…”

Atobe’s gaze sharpened, zeroing in on Shiraishi’s wrist.

There, snug against his skin, was a golden wristband!

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 192: The Emperor’s Aura, Atobe’s Supreme Dominance! (3rd Update)*

“G-Gold wristbands?”

Catching a glimpse of the dazzling sheen, Shitenhouji’s Yuji Hitouji, sporting a green headband, exclaimed in shock, “Is that what was under Shiraishi’s bandages?”

“Pure gold wristbands?”

Chitose’s expression shifted slightly.

“Exactly.”

At that moment, Osamu Watanabe, lounging on the bench, nodded. “I had those pure gold wristbands made for him two years ago, back when Shiraishi was just a first-year.”

Hearing this, Tarou Sakaki, standing nearby, glanced over in surprise.

Judging by Watanabe’s casual attire, you wouldn’t peg him as wealthy. Yet, those gold wristbands looked heavy—possibly a significant chunk of the young coach’s assets.

He’s probably not even 30 yet, right? (Actually 27.) It’s hard to imagine someone with the guts to invest most of their wealth in a junior high rookie two years ago.

This made it clear just how much Shitenhouji’s coach valued their team captain.

If it were Sakaki himself, he’d likely hesitate to make such a bold investment in someone like Atobe or Ishikawa.

In short, Shitenhouji’s coach was a man of remarkable resolve.

And, of course, their captain hadn’t let him down.

“Ashu.”

Shiraishi removed the gold wristbands and handed them back to Watanabe. “Thank you for believing in me!”

With that, he bowed deeply.

“No need to thank me.”

Watanabe, chewing on a blade of grass, grinned as he tucked the wristbands away. “If anything, I should thank you. Gold’s gone up quite a bit these past two years. After this match, when we’re back in Osaka, I’ll treat you all to beef hotpot!”

“Uh…”

At that, the Shitenhouji team behind him shot resentful looks.

Yesterday, he’d promised beef hotpot, but they ended up with ramen. They could already guess—back in Osaka, hotpot was off the table, but plain noodles? Probably endless.

“Heh, Ashu’s joking again.”

Shiraishi chuckled lightly, turning back to the court.

“Sorry, Atobe-kun,” he said, looking at Atobe. “I held things up a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Hmph!”

Atobe’s gaze sharpened.

Now, he finally understood why Shiraishi’s upper and lower body movements seemed so out of sync.

All this time, the guy had been holding back, sealing his true strength in this match.

“Shiraishi Kuranosuke!”

Atobe’s brow arched as he gripped the tennis ball, locking eyes with his opponent. “Let’s see just how strong you are without those weights!”

Wham!

With that, Atobe launched the ball.

Bang!

On the other side, Shiraishi returned it with a backhand.

Freed from the gold weights, his swing speed had skyrocketed. The ball’s velocity caught most spectators off guard.

Tap tap!

Atobe darted across the court, chasing the ball down. He glanced up, locking onto his opponent again.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

In an instant, a barrage of ice pillars rained down.

Crackle crackle.

But before those pillars—representing Shiraishi’s blind spots—could hit the ground, Atobe’s vision flickered with distortion and static, like a signal being jammed.

In the end, Shiraishi’s blind spots vanished completely.

“As expected,” Atobe thought, his heart sinking. “As his strength increases, those blind spots cease to exist.”

This made him realize his World of Ice still had significant flaws.

Wham!

Without hesitation, Atobe swung back.

“Hm?”

But the moment he hit the ball, his brow twitched. “The power behind his shots has increased this much?”

He was stunned.

Wham!

But Shiraishi’s return came blazing back, leaving Atobe no time to think.

Wham!

Wham!

Wham!

On the court, the tide shifted, with Shiraishi now dominating Atobe.

“How is this possible?”

Seeing Atobe on the defensive, unable to control the match’s rhythm, Hiyoshi blurted out, “Just taking off weights makes that big a difference?”

They trained with weights too, even played practice matches with them.

Hiyoshi admitted there was a noticeable gap when removing weights, but not to this extent.

“It’s not surprising,” Ishikawa chimed in. “Those are pure gold weights. Gold’s density is 2.4 times that of iron and 1.7 times that of lead. And Shiraishi’s been wearing them since his first year.”

Day after day, year after year, training with that kind of intensity.

It’s easy to imagine how much Shiraishi’s strength would surge once the weights were off.

Wham!

“0-15!”

At that moment, Shiraishi broke through Atobe’s defense, scoring with a fierce topspin shot.

Then, shifting from defense to offense, he literally pushed Atobe back step by step.

Wham!

Atobe returned the ball.

Shiraishi seized the chance, dropping a short ball.

As Atobe rushed forward to lob it back, Shiraishi leaped into the air, racket raised, aiming the edge at the ball for a smash.

Wham!

The ball hit the ground.

It spun wildly, kicking up a storm.

Under Hyotei’s stunned gazes, the spinning ball split into twelve afterimages, swirling and expanding outward. Finally, it formed a spiraling halo, engulfing Atobe. It pierced his defenses and vanished like a spark.

“Game!”

“Shitenhouji’s Shiraishi, 2-5!”

“It’s here!”

Seeing the move, Zaizen shouted excitedly, “Shiraishi’s Round Table Draw!”

“So… so strong.”

On Hyotei’s side, Shishido, Mukahi, and Hiyoshi’s eyes gleamed with shock.

No one expected Shitenhouji’s captain to be hiding such power.

“Shiten-hou-ji!”

“Shiten-hou-ji!”

“Shiten-hou-ji!”

Shitenhouji’s team erupted, chanting their school’s name.

The momentum had flipped.

In this Singles 3 match, Shitenhouji was poised to claim victory!

“Atobe (buchou)…”

Meanwhile, Hyotei’s players looked on with worry.

They knew Atobe was strong, but World of Ice seemed to be the pinnacle of his insight.

In this situation, beating a weight-free Shiraishi seemed like a long shot.

Of course, losing one match wouldn’t cripple Hyotei. But if their captain went down, it’d be a tough pill to swallow.

“Hahaha!”

Just then, Atobe, who should’ve been switching sides, burst into laughter.

“Atobe?”

Oshitari, Shishido, and the others stared at him in shock.

“That guy…”

Akutsu narrowed his eyes.

He could sense a faint, dangerous aura radiating from Atobe.

“Is he nuts?”

Shitenhouji’s team exchanged confused glances at Atobe’s reaction.

Swish!

Suddenly, Atobe raised his racket, pointing it straight at Shiraishi. “Shiraishi, you’re strong. Strong enough to earn my full attention.”

As he spoke, Atobe’s eyes gleamed with clarity, exuding an indescribable pressure.

“Atobe!”

Shiraishi’s gaze darkened.

He could feel that Atobe was still holding back an even greater power.

“This move… I was saving it for Rikkai’s Sanada!”

Atobe smirked, eyeing his opponent. “I didn’t expect Shitenhouji to have a player like you. So, you’ll be the first to witness this version of me!”

Buzz!

As his words fell, a powerful aura erupted from Atobe. A golden flame spread outward, centered on him.

The aura was bold, domineering.

It instinctively made everyone feel a sense of oppression.

Rustle rustle!

Wrapped in golden flames, Atobe’s eyebrows and eyes seemed to take on a golden hue.

“Atobe?”

Feeling the supreme, unrivaled aura, Coach Sakaki was visibly moved. “When did you… I get it.”

It clicked.

Atobe must’ve been pushed to his limits after his match with Ishikawa at Sakaki’s estate, awakening this ultimate technique through relentless training.

His last match against Yanagi? Yanagi’s strength probably wasn’t enough to make Atobe go all out.

But now, facing a weight-free Shiraishi, Atobe was finally revealing his strongest self.

“Atobe… I didn’t expect you to be hiding this kind of power!”

Shiraishi’s eyes narrowed as he tossed up the ball and smashed it over.

Wham!

Unsure of Atobe’s new strength, Shiraishi held back slightly. Still, the shot’s power wasn’t something most could handle.

But Atobe casually swung his racket, blasting the ball back with a wham.

“His power’s increased?”

Shiraishi’s brow twitched.

But he quickly steadied himself, staying calm. After tracking the ball’s path, he dashed to intercept it.

Bang!

Shiraishi struck the ball.

But the moment he made contact, he felt a heavy force. “No way!”

His expression changed.

He hadn’t expected to misjudge Atobe’s power. Even without his gold weights, Shiraishi was struggling against it.

Bang!

The next moment, Atobe charged the net, unleashing a vicious spinning shot. In a short sprint, it precisely struck the handle of Shiraishi’s racket.

Snap!

Shiraishi’s racket flew from his grip.

Swish!

Seizing the moment, Atobe leaped into the air, smashing the ball downward.

“Not on my watch!”

Shiraishi reacted swiftly. Without the weights, his stats—speed, power, balance—had all skyrocketed. He lunged, grabbing his airborne racket, and instinctively swung at Atobe’s smash.

Pop!

But Atobe’s smash tore through Shiraishi’s racket strings like they were tofu.

Thud!

The ball hit the ground.

It bounced high, crashing into the chain-link fence behind Gin Ishida with a clang, leaving a noticeable dent.

“0-15!”

The referee called out, and the court fell silent.

“That kind of power…”

Gin Ishida’s face paled.

He could feel the sheer force of Atobe’s smash. It wasn’t just raw strength—it was amplified by spin, unleashing the shot’s full potential.

“Atobe Keigo!”

Chitose, Oshitari, and others looked up, their gazes fixed on the graceful boy landing confidently.

Enveloped in golden flames, Atobe’s clothes fluttered.

As he raised his head, the court went quiet. The bold, domineering aura he radiated hit everyone.

One thought echoed in their minds: Supreme dominance!

“Hm.”

From Shitenhouji’s bench, Watanabe frowned, eyeing the confident, purple-gray-haired boy. “Is this the true form of Hyotei’s Emperor, Atobe Keigo?”

(Chapter End)

*Chapter 193: Doubles 2, Shitenhoji’s Strongest Duo (Part 1)*

Wham!

Wham!

Wham!

On the court.

Two figures darted back and forth, clashing fiercely.

But the silver-haired teen in the yellow-green jacket looked slightly worse for wear.

“What’s going on?”

At Shitenhoji’s bench, Zaizen gaped in disbelief. “Shiraishi, even after taking off his golden wristbands, is being pushed back this badly?”

“That golden aura…”

Chitose glanced up, his eyes locking onto Tezuka. Sensing that commanding, oppressive presence, his expression darkened. “If I’m not mistaken, Tezuka’s sheer kiai is overwhelming Shiraishi!”

“Kiai? Overwhelming?”

Nearby, Oshitari Kenya frowned, puzzled. “This isn’t a riddle, Chitose. What are you getting at?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

Coach Watanabe Osamu shook his head, his voice low. “That golden aura radiating from Tezuka—what the Hyotei players call his ‘Emperor’s Presence’—is putting pressure on Shiraishi’s psyche. It’s like an ancient king, where a single glance could shake someone to their core!”

“No way…”

The other Shitenhoji players, catching on, wore looks of stunned disbelief.

Their captain, the mentally unshakeable Shiraishi, was being dominated in spirit and will by his opponent?

“Tezuka… Keigo!”

Oshitari, Ishida Gin, Zaizen Hikaru, and the others turned to Tezuka, a wave of indescribable awe rising in their hearts.

Bang!

Suddenly.

Tezuka unleashed a smashing shot.

Shiraishi sprinted after it, gripping his racket with both hands and swinging with all his might to send the ball flying back.

“This match…”

But Tezuka leaped again, his body perfectly poised for a devastating smash. A glint of regal, piercing authority flashed in his eyes. “It’s over!”

Bang!

In an instant.

Tezuka’s smash rocketed down.

“No way!”

Shiraishi refused to give up. In that critical moment, his fighting spirit surged, breaking through Tezuka’s mental pressure. He charged toward the ball’s landing spot with blazing speed.

This Shitenhoji captain, known as the “Tennis Bible,” shattered his own limits in that final moment.

Skrrt!

But then.

Tezuka’s smash hit the ground—and instead of bouncing normally, it skidded along the surface.

“Game over.”

The referee’s voice boomed. “Hyotei Academy’s Tezuka Keigo wins, 6-2!”

Thud!

Tezuka landed firmly.

Hyotei’s side fell silent for a moment before erupting into an uncontainable roar of cheers.

“Tezuka!”

“Tezuka!”

“Tezuka!”

The crowd chanted his name in unison.

The overwhelming momentum left Shitenhoji’s supporters in the dust.

“This is Hyotei’s Emperor… Tezuka Keigo!”

Outside the fence, Inoue sighed with admiration. “Defeating Kansai’s strongest, Shiraishi Kuranosuke, means he’s reached the absolute pinnacle of national-level players!”

Tezuka, Sanada, Tezuka!

These three firmly held the top tier among junior high players nationwide.

Of course.

Above them stood Ishikawa and Yukimura—two terrifying figures who had completely transcended the junior high ceiling.

“With this win, Hyotei’s probably locked in for the semifinals,”

Shiba mused, recalling both teams’ lineups. “With Ishikawa and Atobe still to come, Shitenhoji doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Hyotei’s just too strong,”

Inoue agreed. “For Shitenhoji, the first match was their do-or-die moment. Still, their remaining doubles pairs should be interesting.”

He paused, then chuckled. “After all, like Rikkai’s doubles teams, Shitenhoji’s pairs haven’t lost a single match in the national tournament so far.”

“Sorry, Osamu-san… everyone.”

Having lost the first match, Shiraishi, looking drained, apologized to his team. “I couldn’t win the opener. I let you all down.”

“No way!”

Watanabe shook his head. “Their captain is a real monster. And this year’s Hyotei is stronger than ever!”

“Exactly.”

Konjiki Koharu, Hitouji Yuuji, and the others nodded in agreement.

Though disappointed by the loss, they knew Shiraishi had given his all. No one held it against their captain.

“Don’t worry, leave this match to me and Gin,”

Oshitari Kenya said with a grin. “Doubles 2, we’ve got this. Just a shame I won’t get to properly face off with Yuushi.”

With that,

Oshitari Kenya and the bald, burly Ishida Gin grabbed their rackets and headed to the court.

At that moment, the loudspeaker crackled to life:

“Next up, the Doubles 2 match.”

“Hyotei Academy’s Oshitari Yuushi and Mukahi Gakuto versus Shitenhoji’s Oshitari Kenya and Ishida Gin.”

“Both teams, please prepare.”

As the announcement ended, someone on Hyotei’s side piped up curiously. “Didn’t Oshitari-senpai come from Kansai? And now Shitenhoji has a guy named Oshitari too? Are they related or something?”

“No way, that’s too convenient!”

Someone else shot back. “They don’t even look alike.”

“You’re wrong about that,”

Taki Haginosuke, a second-string player, said with a smile. “Yuushi and Shitenhoji’s Oshitari are actually cousins.”

“Long time no see, Kenya.”

“Yuushi.”

At the net, the cousins greeted each other.

“Didn’t expect Hyotei to make it this far this year,”

Kenya said with a grin.

“True,”

Yuushi admitted, nodding. “Hyotei’s transformation is thanks to that rookie. With him around, the national championship is ours this year.”

“Oh?”

Kenya raised an eyebrow, surprised. His cousin was usually humble, and he’d never heard him make such a bold, confident claim about something uncertain.

“Maybe,”

Kenya said, not arguing. He smiled. “It’s been a while since we’ve faced off. Let’s see if the rumors are true—have you really reached national level?”

Never one to back down, he didn’t challenge Yuushi’s championship boast but instead issued a direct challenge.

“Too bad this is doubles,”

A light, teasing voice cut in. “Shitenhoji’s Oshitari, your opponent… is me!”

“Mukahi-kun, huh?”

Kenya glanced at him, smiling. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got first.”

As for the towering, bald teen beside him, Ishida Gin stayed silent. But neither Yuushi nor Mukahi ignored his presence.

With that,

Both sides began the coin toss for serve.

After deciding positions, the two forwards stayed at the net, while the servers and receivers retreated to the baseline.

“Match begin!”

Moments later, the referee called out. “Hyotei’s Oshitari to serve, first game!”

Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

At the baseline,

Yuushi’s gaze swept over his opponents, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. “Kenya’s speed, Ishida’s power. These two are probably Shitenhoji’s strongest duo. Placing them in Doubles 2, their coach must be aiming to sweep the first three matches!”

Given Shiraishi’s placement, Yuushi could easily guess their strategy.

Too bad for them.

Hyotei was a different beast this year.

With Ishikawa and Atobe in the lineup, they could afford to be flexible with their roster. Even against last year’s top-four team and this year’s Kansai powerhouse, Shitenhoji, Hyotei held the upper hand.

In this scenario,

Hyotei’s doubles teams faced much less pressure.

But Yuushi wasn’t about to coast. Locking eyes with his cousin, a scrutinizing look crossed his face. “Kenya, let’s see that speed of yours!”

Wham!

With that,

Yuushi struck the ball.

The tennis ball arced beautifully through the air, landing precisely near the service line on Kenya’s right.

“Not bad, not bad,”

Kenya said, grinning at the pinpoint serve. “Yuushi, your control’s as sharp as ever!”

He moved to return the ball.

Whoosh!

But the ball suddenly curved, veering in the opposite direction of his movement.

“A trick shot?”

Kenya gasped.

Luckily, his reflexes were lightning-fast.

He pivoted, bursting into an almost exaggerated sprint, and managed to swing his racket just before the ball flew out.

Thud! Thud!

On the other side,

Mukahi seized the chance, darting forward at breakneck speed.

Ishida watched him warily.

Whoosh!

But in terms of speed, Mukahi completely outclassed him. Before Ishida could react, Mukahi swung, sending the ball into the gap between the singles and doubles lines, scoring.

“15-0!”

“Blazing speed,”

Zaizen muttered from Shitenhoji’s side, his face grim. “That guy’s explosiveness is on par with Kenya-senpai.”

“He’s decisive,”

Shiraishi nodded. “He spotted the flaw in Kenya’s return and used his speed to shake off Gin. In a net duel, Gin’s probably no match for him.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Ishida was tall, muscular, and brimming with explosive power.

But that physique wasn’t built for quick, short-range maneuvers.

In a straight-up net battle, Ishida couldn’t keep up with Mukahi.

Still,

Ishida had his own strengths.

Bang!

After Yuushi’s second serve,

Ishida suddenly struck, unleashing a powerful shot laced with crackling arcs of energy.

“What’s that…?”

Inoue’s eyes widened instinctively. “Hadoukyuu?!”

“Ugh.”

Feeling the raw power of the return, Yuushi quickly backed off. Only after the Hadoukyuu landed did he manage to hit it back.

Bang!

Even then,

He felt a jarring impact. If he hadn’t been prepared, the racket might’ve flown out of his hands.

Thud! Thud!

Meanwhile,

On Shitenhoji’s frontline,

A figure blurred across the court, leaving a trail of afterimages in its wake.

“This point… is mine!”

Kenya shouted, angling his racket downward. The ball slammed into the gap between the singles and doubles lines with a wham.

“15-15!”

“Talk about ruthless!”

On Hyotei’s side,

Shishido, Hiyoshi, and the others frowned slightly.

The opponent’s play was clearly a direct counter to Mukahi’s earlier attack. In terms of speed, this Shitenhoji player might even surpass Rikkai’s Jackal or Seigaku’s Kikumaru!

“That Ishida guy…”

Outside the fence,

Inoue’s gaze lingered uncertainly on the tall, powerful bald teen.

After scoring,

Ishida tucked his racket under his arm, pressing his hands together in a gesture of respect.

“Senpai!”

Shiba suddenly piped up, as if struck by a thought. “This Shitenhoji guy’s name is Ishida Gin. There’s a second-year at Fudomine named Ishida Tetsu. Coincidence?”

Coincidence?

Inoue narrowed his eyes.

But he quickly dismissed the idea.

Hyotei and Shitenhoji’s Oshitari cousins were already a rare coincidence. But Fudomine’s Ishida and this teen named Gin? They were likely brothers!

“If I’m not mistaken,”

Inoue looked up, studying Ishida closely. “This guy’s the true creator of the Hadoukyuu!”

Because neither Fudomine’s Ishida, Seigaku’s Kawamura, nor Hyotei’s Kabaji could unleash the Hadoukyuu as effortlessly as this guy.

“Shitenhoji’s doubles…”

Inoue’s eyes swept over the pair again.

Oshitari Kenya, a master of speed and quick attacks.

Ishida Gin, wielding the Hadoukyuu with ease.

No matter how you sliced it, Hyotei seemed to have no answer for this duo!

*(Chapter End)*

*Chapter 194: Skylark Flash Return, Oshitari Seals the Hadoukyuu (2nd Update)*

Wham!

Wham!

Wham!

At the net, two figures traded shots at blinding speed.

The tennis ball zipped back and forth so fast it was hard to keep up.

“Amazing!”

Choutarou gaped at Mukahi. “Has Mukahi-senpai’s net play gotten this good?”

He remembered the Kanto finals, where Mukahi was practically crushed by Niou. But now, facing the lightning-fast and reactive Kenya, he seemed completely at ease.

“Probably thanks to Ishikawa’s special training,” Shishido said, impressed. “After the Kanto finals, he made detailed training plans for everyone except Atobe, Akutsu, and Oshitari. If I recall, Mukahi was specifically working with Hiyoshi on footwork and net play.”

“Exactly,” Hiyoshi nodded. His right hand, still swollen from yesterday’s intense match with Tooyama, was wrapped in thick bandages. Looking at Mukahi dominating the court, he added, “Mukahi-senpai’s got serious talent. Plus, the vice-captain tailored the Enbu-shiki footwork to suit his physique.”

For the past twenty-odd days, Hiyoshi had been sparring with Mukahi almost daily.

Among the team, aside from Ishikawa, he knew best just how strong Mukahi had become.

While not quite national-level, Mukahi’s speed and reactions at the net were unmatched by most players nationwide.

Wham!

On the court, another ball rocketed toward Kenya’s backhand. His eyes narrowed. “This guy’s reaction speed is unreal. Fine then…”

Tap tap!

Kenya suddenly accelerated, leaving a trail of afterimages as he unleashed his hidden strength. He closed in on the ball and fired back.

Wham!

The shot targeted Mukahi’s backhand weakness.

To Kenya and the Shitenhouji team, this was a guaranteed point.

Swish!

But Mukahi unexpectedly sped up, diving forward like a fish. He swung his racket, then propped himself up with one hand, spinning gracefully in midair before landing lightly on his feet.

“30-15!”

“Dance-style shot?”

Kenya frowned at Mukahi. He’d heard about a Kanto player who excelled at this style.

He’d thought it was no big deal, but now he saw why Mukahi was a Hyotei regular—his skill was extraordinary!

“And that Yushi guy’s been lurking in the back,” Kenya thought, glancing at Oshitari. “He’s directing every shot toward me. Which means… he’s scared of Gin’s Hadoukyuu too!”

Ishida’s Hadoukyuu was Shitenhouji’s second-most powerful signature move.

Its sheer force could knock a grown man off the court. Kenya was confident that even if he and Mukahi swung together, they couldn’t block it.

“Time to get serious.”

With that, Kenya dropped his playful attitude.

If his cousin wasn’t going to engage, he’d lean into his doubles role.

Wham!

Moments later, Oshitari served again.

Another spin-heavy ball, but Kenya, ready for it, returned it with ease.

Tap tap!

Kenya rushed the net, while Ishida seamlessly pulled back.

Inoue, watching, was surprised. “This formation change… are they sticking with a net battle?”

At the net, Shitenhouji wasn’t dominating. Was this Kenya just stubbornly refusing to lose?

Wham!

Wham!

Wham!

The two clashed fiercely.

Just when everyone thought Kenya was set on outplaying Mukahi, he deliberately left his right side open, baiting a shot.

“Perfect chance!”

Caught up in the heat of battle, Mukahi didn’t overthink it. He seized the opening, smashing the ball toward the gap.

“Heh.”

Seeing Mukahi take the bait, a sly grin spread across Kenya’s face.

“Wait… what?!”

Then, the crowd noticed the bald teen at Shitenhouji’s baseline, poised to receive.

Boom!

Ishida swung with force, unleashing a devastating Hadoukyuu. Mukahi’s face paled—he didn’t dare try returning it and dodged to the side.

“This ball…”

At the baseline, Oshitari’s gaze grew heavy as the ball hurtled toward him.

This Hadoukyuu was even stronger than before.

Oshitari knew he’d need distance and a two-handed grip to return it.

But his cousin was likely ready to pounce. Returning this would almost certainly cost them the point.

So, to everyone’s shock, Oshitari let the ball fly past him without swinging.

“Oh?”

Shitenhouji’s Shiraishi, Chitose, and Coach Watanabe all looked at the blue-black-haired, bespectacled teen in surprise.

“That’s Yushi for you!” Kenya nodded slightly. In such a short time, Oshitari had analyzed the match and made the smartest choice. His cousin was as calm and sharp as he’d been in their childhood matches.

“Too bad,” Kenya thought, his gaze sharpening. “You don’t have a shot at winning this match.”

His speed, paired with Ishida’s power, was unbeatable on the court!

Even some Hyotei players doubted their chances, knowing Shitenhouji had an unstoppable trump card.

Wham!

Oshitari served again.

Ishida, ready to unleash a Hadoukyuu on the return, set his stance.

“Hm?”

But as the ball bounced, it suddenly veered toward his backhand.

“A spin ball?”

Ishida’s expression darkened. He adjusted, switching to a light slice.

Pop!

The shot had force, but it was nothing Mukahi couldn’t handle.

Wham!

Wham!

Mukahi and Kenya clashed at the net again.

Kenya seized an opening, deliberately exposing his weakness to lure Mukahi into a trap.

“Hah!”

But Mukahi smirked and sidestepped.

What?!

Kenya froze, stunned by Mukahi’s cheeky dodge.

Swish!

At the baseline, Oshitari narrowed his eyes, slicing the ball with a quick flick of his racket.

Pop!

The ball shot out, dipping sharply after crossing the net. Just as Kenya moved to return it, the ball didn’t bounce normally—it skidded along the ground!

Hibari Gaeshi?!

The crowd—Shitenhouji, Hyotei, and onlookers—gasped in unison.

Skid skid skid…

But just when everyone thought Oshitari’s shot was a dead ringer for Fuji’s Tsubame Gaeshi, the ball abruptly changed course, sliding toward the court’s edge and out.

“A variation of Hibari Gaeshi?”

Shishido, Hiyoshi, and others stared in shock.

“Oh?”

Even Ishikawa raised an eyebrow at Oshitari.

If he recalled correctly, in a PS2 Prince of Tennis game from his past life, Oshitari had a move similar to Fuji’s.

“It’s called…”

“Skylark Flash Return!” Oshitari said calmly.

He’d drawn inspiration from Fuji’s Tsubame Gaeshi, but found its predictability a weakness. His new move was far more practical for real matches.

“40-30!”

The referee called.

Kenya and Ishida’s faces grew grim.

They hadn’t expected Oshitari to hide such a move. Now, they couldn’t rely on heavy topspin shots.

Ishida could manage, but Kenya’s net play was severely limited.

“Yushi!” Kenya rubbed his temples, exasperated. “Didn’t expect you to throw me this curveball. Fine, no choice.”

To Hyotei’s astonishment, the Shitenhouji speedster flipped down his sock, removing a weighted band packed with lead plates.

“No… seriously?”

The crowd gawked. “He was playing with that on?!”

Even Shishido and Hiyoshi were floored.

Kenya’s speed had already outpaced most speed-type players.

“Just as he predicted,” Mukahi thought, staying calm. Before the match, Ishikawa had briefed them on Shitenhouji’s players.

Kenya removing his weights confirmed Ishikawa’s intel.

Of course, Mukahi was still stunned.

But he knew the situation wasn’t hopeless. If he could keep Kenya occupied, Oshitari could score.

Wham!

Oshitari served.

Kenya returned and rushed the net again.

Same tactic as before.

But his speed was even faster, catching Mukahi off guard. Still, Oshitari covered the gap Mukahi left.

Oshitari struck, sending a sharp, high-speed slice toward Ishida at the baseline.

“Perfect chance!”

Shitenhouji’s team clenched their fists, eyes on Ishida.

Pop!

But just as Ishida prepared his Hadoukyuu, Oshitari’s shot landed at an awkward distance.

The ball’s bounce height was perfect for a light tap but too short for a charged Hadoukyuu.

Plus, Ishida knew a basic Hadoukyuu wouldn’t break Hyotei’s defense.

No choice—he lofted a high lob to slow Hyotei’s momentum and buy Kenya time to reposition.

But that played right into Mukahi’s hands.

He leaped, twisting midair with incredible hang time, scanning for openings in Shitenhouji’s formation.

Wham!

He fired.

The ball threaded the gap between Kenya and Ishida.

“Game!”

“Hyotei, 1-0, change courts!”

First game to Hyotei.

On Shitenhouji’s side, Ishida removed his bullet-belt-like power band.

No Hadoukyuu, and the gear was hindering his play.

Second game.

Shitenhouji’s serve.

Kenya went for a quick attack, setting Ishida up for a shot. Hyotei’s duo—Oshitari was fine, but Mukahi wouldn’t dare hit straight to Ishida.

So, in their service game, Shitenhouji took the edge.

After a fierce rally, Shitenhouji tied it, 1-1.

“Both sides are incredible!” Inoue marveled from the sidelines.

He’d thought Hyotei couldn’t handle Shitenhouji’s speed-power combo. But Oshitari not only debuted a move surpassing Tsubame Gaeshi, he’d neutralized Ishida’s Hadoukyuu with precise control and spin.

Now, both teams were back on equal footing.

Wham!

“Game!”

“Hyotei, 2-1!”

Wham!

“Game!”

“Shitenhouji, 2-2!”

Wham!

“Game!”

“Hyotei, 3-2!”

Wham!

“Game!”

“Shitenhouji, 3-3!”

The score stayed tight.

Neither side gave an inch.

“Hyotei’s Oshitari hasn’t made a single mistake?” Zaizen muttered from Shitenhouji’s side. “He’s human, not a machine. No way he’s that perfect!”

Wham!

As he spoke, Oshitari returned another shot, landing it on Ishida’s backhand. The bounce height was, again, unsuitable for a full-swing Hadoukyuu.

“Damn it!”

Ishida’s face darkened.

He was, by far, the most frustrated player on the court.

Gritting his teeth, he channeled Hadoukyuu’s technique into his wrist.

Bang!

The ball shot out like a cannonball.

But this impromptu Hadoukyuu lacked the power and presence of a fully charged one.

“Here we go!”

Seizing the moment, Oshitari stepped forward.

A fiery aura flared around him. With his momentum surging, he raised his racket like a sword and slashed at the ball.

Bang!

The racket’s edge smashed into the ball.

Oshitari’s arms flexed, a fierce glint in his eyes as he blasted the ball away.

Crackle!

A lightning-like trail streaked across.

Thud!

The ball hit the ground. Kenya, just starting to move, couldn’t catch up.

“Game!”

“Hyotei, 4-3, change courts!”

“Is that… Daylight Mode?”

Seeing Oshitari cloaked in a fiery red aura, Shiraishi’s eyes flickered.

Others might not know, but he did.

Oshitari’s cool-headed Shadow Moon Mode had sealed Ishida’s Hadoukyuu. Now, with the explosive Daylight Mode, he’d turned Ishida’s own move against him.

In a way, Oshitari had conquered the Hadoukyuu of junior high’s strongest power player, Ishida Gin!

As for Mukahi, he wasn’t dragging Oshitari down.

His speed and footwork kept Kenya tied up, creating scoring opportunities for Oshitari.

Wham!

Wham!

Wham!

The battle raged on.

Hyotei held the upper hand.

Seeing this, Shitenhouji’s Coach Watanabe sighed. “When power and speed lose their synergy, it’s like two perfectly meshed gears—one gets chipped, and the whole machine falters.”

With Ishida sealed, Shitenhouji had little chance of winning this Doubles 2 match from the start.

Wham!

Finally, Mukahi spun midair, smashing a pinpoint shot through the gap between Ishida and Kenya.

“Match over.”

The referee took a deep breath and announced, “Hyotei’s Oshitari Yushi and Mukahi Gakuto win, 7-5!”

(Chapter End)

*Chapter 195: Singles 2, Atobe vs. Chitose (Part 3)*

“Two losses in a row?!”

At Shitenhoji’s bench, Zaizen stared in disbelief at the returning figures of their defeated teammates.

He knew Hyotei was strong, but he never imagined their captain Shiraishi, along with their top doubles pair, Oshitari and Ishida, would lose.

The top team from Kansai had just suffered two straight defeats?!

“Our pre-match analysis wasn’t wrong,”

Shiraishi said, his face grim. “Hyotei this year is incredibly strong. Even when they beat Rikkai in the Kanto finals, they weren’t showing their full strength.”

“Mm.”

Coach Watanabe Osamu nodded.

Hyotei’s dominance had exceeded his expectations. In his original plan, Shitenhoji would at least snag one win in the first two matches, even in the worst-case scenario.

Now,

After back-to-back losses,

Not just the regular players, but even he, the coach, felt their chances of victory slipping away.

“Now… it’s all up to him!”

Turning his head, Watanabe looked toward a tall figure holding a racket at the court’s edge.

Chitose Senri.

One of the former top players from Kyushu.

Also, a recognized powerhouse at Shitenhoji, with skills no less impressive than their captain, Shiraishi.

And,

The reason Shiraishi was called Kansai’s best was because Chitose had transferred from Kyushu. Most people still saw him as the ace of Shishi Gakuen Junior High.

In a way,

Compared to Shiraishi, who led Shitenhoji to the semifinals last year but didn’t play before Rikkai eliminated them, Chitose—Shishi Gakuen’s ace who swept the nationals alongside Tachibana—had far greater fame!

“Next up, the Singles 2 match.”

The loudspeaker crackled to life. “Hyotei Academy’s Atobe Jin versus Shitenhoji Junior High’s Chitose Senri. Both players, please prepare!”

Thud!

As the announcement ended,

On Hyotei’s side, Atobe, racket tucked under his arm, strode onto the court with a blank expression.

His cold demeanor radiated an unapproachable aura. The moment he stepped onto the court, Shitenhoji’s players felt a heavy, oppressive vibe.

“Atobe Jin!”

Watanabe frowned. “Called a once-in-a-decade tennis prodigy by Yamabuki’s Coach Banda. He lost to Ishikawa at the metropolitan tournament, then joined Hyotei, steamrolling elite players from every school with national-level skill!”

“Another national-level player?”

Zaizen’s jaw dropped. “Tezuka, Oshitari, now Atobe, and don’t forget Ishikawa—ugh! Isn’t Hyotei’s lineup just ridiculous?”

And that didn’t even include Aguri and Shishido, who were starting to break into the national tier.

Plus,

Mukahi, Hiyoshi, Ootori, and Kabaji, all either close to or already at Kanto’s top level.

Hyotei’s roster was, frankly, on par with Rikkai’s, even after Yukimura’s return.

By comparison,

Shitenhoji’s lineup looked lackluster.

“Ugh.”

This realization hit hard. Players like Zaizen, who’d been brimming with confidence in Shitenhoji’s overall strength, now felt a creeping sense of pressure.

Only now did they understand why their coach and captain had taken Hyotei so seriously before the match.

“Treat every match like it’s the finals—that’s what they meant.”

Grasping their intent, Zaizen gave a self-deprecating smile.

Then,

He turned to the court,

His gaze locking onto Chitose. In his mind, he thought, Senpai, Shitenhoji’s last hope rests on you!

At the net,

Chitose and Atobe faced each other.

Both sensed the formidable presence of the other. Especially Chitose—he’d traveled to Kanto and witnessed Atobe crush Rikkai’s Kirihara in a match.

If anyone on Hyotei’s roster had their strength underestimated, it was definitely this guy.

Still,

Their personalities didn’t mesh. After a quick coin toss for serve, they both retreated to the baseline without much talk.

“Match begin!”

Moments later, the referee, noting both players’ readiness, nodded. “Shitenhoji’s Chitose to serve, first game!”

“Chitose Senri, huh?”

On Hyotei’s side, Mukahi, Shishido, and the others watched with heavy expressions.

Last year,

Around the same time,

During the national tournament,

They’d seen Chitose and Tachibana’s Shishi Gakuen take down strong opponents one after another.

A year later,

Now at Osaka’s Shitenhoji in Kansai, his skills had likely undergone a dramatic evolution.

Buzz!

Suddenly,

A milky-white aura swirled around Chitose. The white energy surged, transforming into waves that clung to his body.

“Muga no Kyouchi?”

The crowd’s expressions shifted.

Oshitari’s voice was low. “And it’s a deeper level of Muga no Kyouchi!”

Compared to the state achieved by Echizen or Kirihara, Chitose was clearly on another level.

For one,

The sheer volume of that shimmering aura was the result of intense refinement. The only comparable mastery might be Tezuka’s Thousand-Hammered Brilliance.

Whoosh!

With that,

Chitose tossed the ball high.

He arched backward, his body leaning further as his racket-wielding wrist angled downward.

“That’s…”

Seeing Chitose’s serving stance, Hyotei’s players seemed to recognize something and let out a low gasp.

Wham!

In an instant,

Chitose swung.

The ball rocketed out.

Upon landing, it veered unpredictably, skidding along the ground.

“15-0!”

“Tannhauser Serve?”

From the coach’s bench, Sakaki Tarou stared at Chitose in surprise. “Is this the power of Muga no Kyouchi?”

To take another player’s signature move and use it effortlessly—even Tezuka’s elite Tannhauser Serve, mastered without a hitch?

That ability was almost too strong.

“Not quite,”

Ishikawa shook his head. “Muga no Kyouchi only enhances certain aspects of a player’s ability. A move like the Tannhauser Serve requires top-tier technique to pull off!”

In other words,

This Kyushu titan’s own technical skill was already at the pinnacle of national level.

Wham!

Then,

Chitose served again.

Skrrt!

The ball hit the ground and skidded along the surface once more.

“30-0!”

“So strong, Chitose-senpai!”

Shitenhoji’s players, previously deflated, perked up with renewed energy.

“But…”

Zaizen paused, puzzled. “Is it really necessary to reveal his trump card right from the start?”

He didn’t get it.

A technique like Muga no Kyouchi—shouldn’t it be saved for later, after probing the opponent, to exploit their weaknesses more effectively?

“It’s absolutely necessary,”

Shiraishi shook his head. “The opponent’s too strong. Even with Muga no Kyouchi, there’s no guarantee he can hold his service game!”

“R-Really?”

Zaizen froze.

He instinctively looked toward the court.

Wham!

Sure enough,

As Chitose’s “Tannhauser Serve” landed and popped up, Atobe’s racket swept across.

Thwack!

The low-flying ball smacked into the net.

“Net!”

“40-0!”

“Hiss!”

Shitenhoji’s players flinched, staring at Atobe like he was a monster.

“He… he actually caught up?”

Zaizen’s face was pure shock.

That serve, which seemed utterly unsolvable to him, was tracked and returned by this Atobe guy in such a short time?

It was downright terrifying!

“The Tannhauser Serve… can actually be returned?”

It wasn’t just Zaizen. On Hyotei’s side, Mukahi, Hiyoshi, and others gaped at the skid marks left by Atobe’s swing.

“There’s no such thing as an absolutely unsolvable technique in this world,”

Ishikawa said softly, shaking his head. “Besides, Chitose is only mimicking it. With the same technical foundation, his understanding of the Tannhauser Serve can’t match Tezuka’s.”

That was his long-held belief.

It’s the player that’s strong, not the technique. If Ishikawa himself used the Tannhauser Serve, its power and effect would surpass even Tezuka’s.

Wham!

At that moment,

Chitose launched his fourth serve.

The ball bounced and shot toward Atobe’s face.

“Topspin Serve?”

A murmur of surprise rippled from the sidelines.

Wham!

But,

For a serve with such simple variation, Atobe returned it with ease.

Whoosh!

Then,

A swift cyan whirlwind flashed across the court.

“Now it’s Sanada’s Rai?”

The crowd’s eyes followed the ball’s trajectory. On the other side, Atobe’s figure appeared.

Wham!

The ferocious Rai was effortlessly neutralized.

And Atobe’s return was no slouch—powerful enough to knock the racket out of an average player’s hands.

Bang!

Chitose didn’t back down, firing back with a fierce blazing shot to Atobe’s backhand side. Atobe moved quickly, chasing the ball and swinging.

Thwack!

But,

Having used two signature moves, Chitose had already closed in on the net. With a light flick of his racket, he sent the ball into the net.

Rustle…

Then,

Under the stunned gazes of the crowd, the ball rolled along the net before dropping into Atobe’s side of the court.

“Game!”

“Shitenhoji’s Chitose, 1-0, switch courts!”

First game done.

Chitose easily held his service game.

His exceptional skill and seamless mastery of various techniques far surpassed the likes of Echizen and Kirihara.

What was even harder to ignore was Chitose’s state.

While in Muga no Kyouchi, his mind remained razor-sharp. In this state, he could wield those techniques with precision, maximizing his scoring efficiency.

“No wonder he’s a top-tier national-level player,”

Inoue said, deeply impressed.

Among the new generation, aside from the anomaly that was Ishikawa, others—even Rikkai’s second-year ace or that boy with samurai blood—still had a long way to go compared to these seasoned national-level veterans.

“If Chitose can win this match…”

Inoue paused, then shook his head.

The match had only just begun.

Chitose was undoubtedly strong, but Hyotei’s tennis prodigy hadn’t shown his true colors yet.

The outcome was still anyone’s guess.

“Muga no Kyouchi, huh?”

After switching courts,

At the baseline,

Atobe gripped the ball tightly, his eyes locked on Chitose. “Looks like you’re a cut above those two brats, aren’t you?”

With that thought,

A faint smirk curved his lips.

His gaze sharpened, like a hunter locking onto his prey!

*(Chapter End)*