Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 33: Chapter 33: Seigaku’s Last Hope

Takei was stunned for a moment when he heard Krauser’s words. He didn’t understand, since Krauser spoke in German, but he didn’t care—instead, he felt smug, thinking he’d already scared that brat, and the next part of the match would be easy since Krauser would definitely hold back.

Sure enough, after the match resumed, it wasn’t as one-sided as the first two games. Kite stayed at the back and barely hit the ball; Krauser kept intercepting everything at the net. Just as Takei was about to start taunting, Krauser suddenly returned a lightning-fast shot. The tennis ball scraped across Takei’s arm, flew out of bounds, and left a dent in the wire fence.

”0-15.”

A fresh scratch appeared on Takei’s arm, not too deep but bleeding. Staring at his arm, Takei was furious, glaring at Krauser and growling, ”You damn brat! You’re dead meat!”

Krauser ignored him, face cold as ice. The match restarted, and it was the same again—Krauser intercepted at the net. Kite shot Krauser a knowing look, having realized something was off, when Takei suddenly screamed as another tennis ball grazed his knee.

”0-30.”

Another cut, this time on Takei’s knee, bleeding just like his arm. Clutching his knee, Takei glared madly at Krauser, ready to do something reckless. But the instant he saw Kite’s killing intent from the baseline, he remembered the scene from before the match started and instantly shrank back.

From then on, every point Fudomine scored came from Krauser’s returns, and every point brought a fresh scream from Takei. Even as Takei tried harder and harder to dodge, there was no way Krauser would let him escape.

At this point, only Akashi noticed that the dents left by Krauser’s shots on the wire fence behind Takei were already forming a line, with the last shot hitting the exact center of the crossbar.

Takei was covered in scratches, none of them too deep but looking pretty bad when taken together. Ryūzaki Sumire finally lost her patience and protested to the umpire, accusing Krauser of intentionally injuring his opponent.

The umpire ignored her. First, Takei’s earlier behavior had already left a bad impression. Second, while Krauser’s play was certainly dangerous and aggressive, it didn’t clearly break any rules. At most, he was just targeting the body a little too much.

People watching courtside were all talking at once—some cheered for Krauser, some thought he went too far. No one could convince anyone else.

”Fuji, that foreign guy, Krauser, plays some really dangerous tennis. Takei-senpai is covered in wounds—is this really okay?” Oishi asked, worried.

”I don’t see a problem. Takei had it coming. I’ve never liked him. All he does in the club is bully first-years like us. Serves him right!” Kikumaru blurted out before Fuji could answer, clearly annoyed at Takei.

”Eiji! Watch your mouth. And call him Takei-senpai. As juniors, we should show respect,” Oishi scolded Kikumaru, frowning.

Kikumaru just stuck out his tongue and made a face, clearly not caring. Fuji chuckled and said, ”Alright, Eiji, knock it off. Krauser’s tennis is pretty dangerous, but I watched the first two games—he didn’t play like this at first. That means Krauser isn’t the type to go out of his way to hurt people. On the other hand, Takei-senpai really did cross the line.”

”According to my research, Krauser is a Japanese national of German descent. He apparently grew up in Germany. With the European tennis atmosphere, it’s not surprising his playstyle is like this,” Inui Sadaharu commented while scribbling in his notebook.

”Maybe, but I still hope everyone can play tennis safely,” Kawamura Takashi said softly from the side.

While they were talking, Takei screamed in pain again. Many of his old wounds were reopened and bleeding, making him look absolutely miserable. Ryūzaki Sumire was just about to stand up and stop the match.

Krauser glanced at the human-shaped cross left on the fence by the ball marks, a cruel grin on his lips. He stared coldly at Takei and said, ”It’s done. Now, spend the rest of your life carrying that cross and atone in hell!” With that, he swung hard at the incoming tennis ball, using sweetspot technique. The shot gained even more power and spin, and after crossing the net, the ball suddenly began to wobble at high speed, splitting into several afterimages.

Those afterimages formed a cross and slammed toward Takei with brutal force. By now, Takei had no way to dodge and was hit head-on by the cross-shaped afterimages. With a miserable scream, his whole body was sent flying, crashing straight into the wire fence outside the court.

”Execution! The cross punishment!”

It was only then that everyone noticed—at some point, the wire fence already had a human-shaped cross dent in it. Takei was now stuck to that cross like Jesus, his body covered in bleeding cuts from both the match and the wire. Even his nose and mouth were leaking blood.

Right now, every player and umpire on the court, as well as the spectators outside, were all frozen in shock, staring at this gruesome but strangely holy scene, unable to come back to their senses for a long time.

”Match suspended!” The umpire finally snapped out of it and loudly announced the suspension.

Yamato, with several regulars, rushed over to the sidelines. Looking at the miserable Takei, they didn’t know what to do for a moment. Luckily, the event staff medics quickly arrived with a stretcher, and everyone helped to pry Takei off the wire fence. By now, Takei was completely unconscious.

As Takei was carried off the court on a stretcher, even Fuji and the others looked shocked. Glancing at Krauser, who was still smiling cruelly on the court, a sense of fear rose in their hearts.

Ryūzaki Sumire stood up, furious, and marched straight over to Akashi, shouting, ”Akashi-kun, is this how your tennis club operates? Purposely injuring your opponents like this—aren’t you going to say anything for yourself?”

Akashi, arms crossed, looked at her coldly and replied with disdain, ”Don’t be naïve, Ryūzaki-sensei! Only victory matters. If you dare to provoke us, then you better be ready to get sent to hell. Liliadent’s approach was already merciful—if it were me, I’d make sure he couldn’t even move properly ever again!”

”You... you’re out of your mind! I’ll definitely report you all to the Junior Tennis Association!” Ryūzaki Sumire felt like she’d never been this angry in her life.

”Heh, go ahead and try! Now get out of my sight, you’re starting to annoy me,” Akashi said, completely unfazed.

Ryūzaki Sumire trembled with rage but couldn’t find the words. Against someone as cold and ruthless as Akashi, she realized there was nothing to say. Grinding her teeth, she turned and left.

”Since Seigaku’s player can’t continue, this match goes to Fudomine, score 4–0!” The umpire soon announced the result.

The crowd outside was in an uproar. They’d never seen such a bloody tennis match before, but it made sense—normal tennis fans just couldn’t understand how cruel the real world was. If anyone had seen the Tennis World Cup, maybe they wouldn’t be so shocked.

The second doubles match started quickly. Tachibana Kippei and Chitose Senri were both still a bit rattled—they always thought Krauser was just cold, not that he could be so terrifying when provoked. Still, neither felt any resistance to it. Tachibana already played a wild style, and even Chitose thought it was justified—after all, the opponents started it.

The doubles match itself had no suspense. Seigaku’s regulars didn’t stand a chance. Against both Tachibana and Chitose, whose individual skills were already national level, just not forfeiting outright was impressive.

Notably, for the last point, Tachibana, maybe just on a whim, used the Wild Lion. Seeing several ball afterimages coming their way, Seigaku’s pair dropped their rackets and turned to run, totally humiliating themselves.

Ryūzaki Sumire felt like she might have a heart attack on the spot. Getting bageled was one thing, but running away in panic was even worse. It made her even more furious.

After harshly scolding her two regulars, Ryūzaki Sumire couldn’t help but start doubting herself—could it be that first-years really could compete and even be so strong? Was she wrong all along?

Shaking her head to clear these thoughts, she turned to Yamato and instructed, ”Yamato, I’m counting on you for the next match. I put you at singles three to secure the win, but I never expected things to turn out like this.”

”Don’t worry, coach. I’ll win this match and won’t let Seigaku lose so badly,” Yamato said seriously.

But deep down, after seeing the first two matches, he’d already given up hope for the championship. He could tell that Fudomine’s players were far stronger than Seigaku. He also thought of Fuji’s talent, and wondered if it was finally time to give the first-years a real chance.

As for Fudomine, once Akashi knew their finals opponent was Seigaku, he requested a lineup change from the organizers, letting Tezuka play singles three. Letting Seigaku’s original captain personally crush their dreams of winning—it was just the kind of dark humor Akashi enjoyed.