*Chapter 190: Atobe vs. Shiraishi, the Bible of Tennis! (Part 1)*

Atobe Keigo!

Shiraishi Kuranosuke!

At the net.

These two extraordinary young captains, representing the strongest schools from the Kanto and Kansai regions, once again shook hands.

“Atobe,” Shiraishi said with a smile, looking at his opponent. “I didn’t expect to face you in the singles No. 3 match.”

“Neither did I,” Atobe replied, nodding. “I thought you’d be in singles No. 1 or No. 2. It seems your team’s strategy is focused on the first three matches.”

“Perhaps,” Shiraishi replied with a noncommittal smile. “Compared to Hyotei, our tactical options are somewhat limited.”

The captain of Rikkai Dai, Shiraishi, had a gentle demeanor and clear eyes. His tone was calm and measured, a clear sign of his absolute confidence in his own abilities.

“Hmm,” Atobe nodded slightly. “I’m curious to see just how strong the so-called ‘No. 1 in Kansai’ really is.”

“No. 1 in Kansai?” Shiraishi couldn’t help but chuckle at the title.

However, he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he held his racket vertically, gave it a gentle spin, and let it fall naturally to the ground.

“Heads,” Atobe called out.

The racket landed, showing heads.

“Let’s have a good match,” Shiraishi said, picking up his racket with a smile before turning and walking back to the baseline.

“He’s not an ordinary opponent,” Atobe thought to himself.

Their brief exchange hadn’t revealed much about Shiraishi’s true capabilities. As Yagyu had mentioned before, the captain of Rikkai Dai was like a figure shrouded in mist—mysterious and elusive.

Atobe also turned and walked back to the baseline.

“The match will now begin, one set to decide the winner!” the referee announced. “Atobe of Hyotei to serve, first game!”

Tap… tap… tap…

Atobe lightly bounced the ball at the baseline.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he thought.

Thwack!

He unleashed a serve with extreme spin and blistering speed. The ball landed precisely at the intersection of the service line and the singles sideline.

“That serve?!” Rikkai Dai’s Yagyu and the others were visibly shaken.

“Is this Atobe’s true strength?” Zaizen, a second-year, felt a chill run down his spine. If he were facing that serve, he’d likely miss it entirely, losing the point without a doubt.

“Atobe’s not holding back, huh?” Meanwhile, Mukahi and the others from Hyotei couldn’t help but smile.

Swish!

But then, a flash of silver light cut through the air. With a sharp thwack, Shiraishi’s racket intercepted Atobe’s serve, sending it back with precision.

Clean.

Crisp.

Flawless.

Shiraishi’s return was a thing of beauty, leaving no room for criticism.

“Not bad,” Atobe admitted, nodding slightly.

Known for his keen insight, even Atobe couldn’t detect any flaws in Shiraishi’s play.

Thwack!

Atobe countered, sending the ball like a surgical strike toward Shiraishi’s left sideline.

“Impressive,” Rikkai Dai’s coach, Watanabe, muttered from the bench, a blade of grass dangling from his lips. “Not only did he neutralize Shiraishi’s return, but he also managed to execute such a precise counter in such a short time.”

Hearing this, the Rikkai Dai players grew serious. Their coach rarely praised opponents so highly, and his words spoke volumes about Atobe’s skill.

Thwack!

Yet, Shiraishi remained calm, smoothly returning Atobe’s shot before repositioning himself in the center of the court, his eyes never leaving his opponent.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The two continued their rally.

Atobe’s play was flamboyant and elegant, his relentless attacks leaving the Rikkai Dai players on edge.

But Shiraishi’s defense was unshakable.

If Atobe was a sharp spear, each strike radiating intimidating brilliance, then Shiraishi was a polished shield—calm, steady, and unyielding.

“Incredible!” Mukahi exclaimed as he watched the two speed up their exchanges. “Shiraishi isn’t falling behind at all against Atobe’s attacks?”

This was Atobe they were talking about! The undisputed strongest player in Hyotei before Ishikawa arrived, and still one of the top middle schoolers in the nation.

And yet, his锋芒 was being blunted?

“His play is crystal clear,” Yagyu observed, watching Shiraishi’s flawless, unshakable defense. “He’s using the most basic tennis, but he’s perfected it to the extreme. There’s no opening to exploit.”

If it were Yagyu facing Shiraishi, he’d have no choice but to rely on endurance to win. He couldn’t see any way to overpower Shiraishi and take the point.

Moreover, Yagyu sensed that Shiraishi was likely a defensive counter-puncher. If Atobe’s offensive rhythm slowed, Shiraishi wouldn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity to strike back.

Thwack!

Sure enough, after several failed attacks by Atobe, Shiraishi suddenly took the initiative. He sent a shot toward Atobe’s backhand, about fifteen centimeters away—a seemingly comfortable distance for a return.

But Shiraishi’s shot had an extra spin, causing the ball to accelerate unexpectedly.

Whoosh!

The ball shot past Atobe’s comfort zone. Caught off guard, Atobe had to stretch to his right, weakening his return in the process.

Tap tap!

Seizing the opportunity, Shiraishi rushed to the net.

With a sharp thwack, he smashed the ball into the corner. Atobe scrambled to reach it, but Shiraishi had already anticipated his move, delivering another powerful shot.

Thwack!

A short-range smash landed precisely near the sideline, far from Atobe’s reach.

“0-15!” the referee called.

The Hyotei players were stunned.

“Atobe… lost a point?” Mukahi couldn’t believe his eyes.

The others were equally shocked. No one had expected their captain to lose a point in his own service game, especially on the first point.

“This style of tennis… is quite unexpected,” Coach Tōyama murmured from the bench, his eyes fixed on Shiraishi. “To think someone could take basic tennis to such a level.”

“Basic tennis?” Several Hyotei players were baffled. “That kind of play is just… basic?”

“Exactly,” Ishikawa chimed in with a smile. “Shiraishi’s tennis is indeed rooted in the fundamentals. But he’s taken it to its absolute peak. That’s why, within Rikkai Dai, he’s known as the ‘Bible of Tennis.’”

“Also,” he added, “judging from that last point, Shiraishi has likely been studying Atobe for quite some time.”

“Oh?” The others turned to him, curious.

If anyone else had said this, they wouldn’t have believed it. After all, the national tournament had only just begun, and the draw had been made less than ten days ago.

For Shiraishi to have analyzed Atobe’s habits so thoroughly in such a short time seemed almost impossible.

But this was Ishikawa speaking. In Hyotei, his standing was, in some ways, even higher than Atobe’s. No one doubted his words—they were simply in awe of Shiraishi’s capabilities.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The two resumed their battle, with Shiraishi once again exploiting Atobe’s weaknesses. He sent a shot to Atobe’s backhand, then followed up with a smash to score another point.

“0-30!”

The Hyotei players’ expressions darkened.

This confirmed Ishikawa’s earlier observation: Shiraishi had indeed studied Atobe deeply.

“Not just Atobe,” Coach Watanabe thought to himself, watching the Hyotei players’ reactions. “Shiraishi has studied everyone from Mukahi to Yagyu, even Akutsu.”

From the moment the match lineup was decided, Shiraishi had been the first to arrive at practice and the last to leave.

Every day, he pushed himself to the limit, honing his skills until he was utterly exhausted.

In a way, Shiraishi knew the Hyotei players better than they knew themselves.

Know your enemy, know yourself, and you’ll never be defeated.

Shiraishi, who practiced fundamental tennis to perfection, wasn’t a data-driven player. But before every match, he meticulously studied his opponents.

And now, the countless hours of sweat and effort were paying off.

Thwack!

Another smash, and Shiraishi scored yet another point.

“0-40!”

Atobe frowned, realizing he had to take Shiraishi seriously. In many ways, Shiraishi was the type of opponent Atobe least wanted to face.

There were no obvious weaknesses to exploit. Every move Shiraishi made was calculated, using minimal effort for maximum effect.

“The Bible of Tennis, huh?” Atobe thought, his eyes narrowing with determination.

Thwack!

He unleashed another powerful serve, then pressed forward with a relentless offensive, keeping Shiraishi pinned to the baseline.

Tap!

Suddenly, Atobe switched to a drop shot.

The unexpected change caught the audience off guard, but Shiraishi sprinted forward, reaching the ball just before its second bounce and sending it back with precision.

“Beautiful!” The Rikkai Dai players cheered, marveling at Shiraishi’s flawless play.

“Fools,” one of the Hyotei players sneered. “Watch closely. This is Atobe’s real skill.”

Swish!

Atobe leaped into the air, his racket flashing as he delivered a sharp smash.

Tap!

The ball shot past Shiraishi, who couldn’t react in time. His racket was sent flying from his hand.

“Shiraishi!” Atobe called out, already in mid-air for a second jump.

He raised his racket high, his eyes gleaming with confidence. “Behold the beauty of my technique!”

Bam!

Atobe’s smash landed with a resounding thud.

“The Dance of Destruction, huh?” Shiraishi, however, showed no panic. To everyone’s astonishment, he spun around, grabbed his racket mid-air, and executed a 180-degree turn, returning the smash with a backhand.

Thwack!

Atobe’s smash was sent flying back.

“Game!” the referee announced. “Shiraishi of Rikkai Dai leads, 1-0. Change sides!”

The crowd fell silent.

“Atobe,” Shiraishi said, gripping his racket and testing the tension of the strings. “I think you’re holding back, aren’t you?”

His words hung in the air, leaving the entire court in stunned silence.