Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Training Camp Plan

If Akashi knew what Banda was thinking right now, he would’ve reassured him—Sengoku might be a bit lazy and always eyeing pretty girls, but he wasn’t the kind to break that easily.

On the contrary, only total defeat and despair could ignite his fighting spirit. Just like in the original, after the Kanto Regional Tournament, Sengoku completely changed his playing style and even convinced Akutsu to return to tennis.

Sengoku got up from the ground without a word, but Akashi could see the fire in his eyes. It was clear Sengoku didn’t plan to give up. He returned to the baseline and once again chose to serve and volley.

Akashi, still as relaxed as ever, returned the ball easily. But this time, he didn’t approach the net. Under the Emperor Eye, Sengoku’s every move was laid bare. Soon, Akashi nailed him with a baseline shot.

”0-30!”

”0-40!”

The next point was the same. Sengoku had no way to fight back. Akashi stood like an unshakable mountain in front of him. Even so, Sengoku rushed the net again after his serve, knowing full well it wouldn’t work.

But just as he got to the net, he saw Akashi approach as well after returning the ball. In a cold tone, Akashi said:

”You’re just struggling pointlessly. Could you kindly move aside?”

”Sorry, but I’m not letting you score that easy,” Sengoku replied, quickly intercepting the ball with a crosscourt shot.

But Akashi was already waiting in the ball’s path, as if he knew it was coming. He used a flawless feint again. Although Sengoku had been tricked once before, his habit of relying on motion vision to judge shot direction made him instinctively shift his weight.

Akashi, having seen this shift with the Emperor Eye, instantly sent the ball in the opposite direction of his movement. Sengoku, once again, lost balance and fell to the ground.

”No. My commands are absolute,” Akashi said calmly, looking down at him after scoring.

”GAME! Fudomine! 3-0! Change courts!”

During the break, Sengoku returned to the bench and rehydrated. Banda asked with concern:

”You alright, Sengoku?”

”I’m fine, Banda. I’ll give it my all, but... the chance of winning is slim~” Sengoku replied with a bitter smile.

Seeing that, Banda breathed a little easier. It seemed he’d worried too much. Sengoku’s easygoing nature actually gave him stronger mental resilience. With that in mind, Banda changed his tone:

”Lucky Sengoku-kun~”

The moment Sengoku heard that nickname, he had a bad feeling. Sure enough, Banda continued:

”Not much chance of winning, huh? I suppose it’s not your fault, since you don’t usually take training seriously. Losing is natural. And your opponent is just a first-year captain... Oh, right... you’re a first-year too...”

Cold sweat streamed down Sengoku’s forehead. To be honest, Banda’s sarcastic jabs went straight to his heart.

”Sorry, Banda! When we get back, I’ll train seriously!” Sengoku couldn’t take it anymore and hurried to admit fault and correct his attitude.

”Oh? Really now? You said that yourself, Sengoku-kun~” Banda smiled as he spoke, eyes narrowing.

Watching Sengoku nod like mad, Banda felt genuinely satisfied. He hadn’t expected to get what he wanted even before the match ended. He’d have to thank that little guy Akashi properly later.

”Alright, time’s up. Get back out there. You don’t get many chances to face players at this level. How much you learn from this match is up to you, Sengoku-kun!”

Sengoku nodded, grabbed his racket, and walked to the court. As he passed Akashi to switch sides, Akashi said coolly:

”Looks like you’re not giving up, even though losing is already a foregone conclusion~”

”The match isn’t over yet. Who knows what’ll happen? Maybe Lady Luck will smile on me again~” Sengoku replied with a cheerful grin. The last three games hadn’t crushed his spirit.

Akashi glanced at him silently and headed to his side of the court. As Sengoku turned to walk away, his smile faded and his expression grew serious.

The fourth game began. It was Akashi’s serve again. As expected, he showed no mercy, still serving at over 200 kilometers per hour. This time, Sengoku stood much farther back than in the second game.

He was clearly trying to buy more time to react. Using his motion vision, he attempted to chase the ball as soon as he picked up its path. But just one step out, he heard the ball bounce—and then the umpire’s call.

”ACE! 15-0!”

”Still not fast enough?” Sengoku muttered in frustration.

Next point, he tried again to match his body to his eyes, but with his current attributes, it was basically impossible—unless he were the protagonist and could unlock some power-up.

”ACE! 30-0!”

”ACE! 40-0!”

”GAME! Fudomine! 4-0!”

Clearly, Sengoku wasn’t the protagonist. The original main character Ryōma was still in elementary school in America. But with Akashi in the mix now, whether Ryōma’s protagonist status would still hold was uncertain.

Even so, Sengoku didn’t give up. He kept trying to at least score a single point off Akashi. But Akashi’s overwhelming strength shattered even that small hope.

”GAME! Fudomine! 5-0!”

”GAME! 6-0! Match over! Winner, Fudomine Middle School!”

With the umpire announcing the score, the final match between Fudomine and Yamabuki officially ended. The final team score was 3-1, and Fudomine smoothly secured the Tokyo Metropolitan Tournament championship!

After the match, neither Fudomine nor Yamabuki’s players planned to leave right away. The award ceremony was still ahead. At this moment, Sengoku walked over to the bench looking ashamed and said to everyone:

”Sorry, guys... I still lost.”

”It’s alright, Sengoku. I mean, compared to Fudomine’s captain, you’re still way off~” Fujii Hikaru said, trying to comfort him. Though honestly, something felt off about how he phrased it.

”Idiot! That’s not how you comfort someone. What do you mean ’way off’? You think Sengoku can even compare to Fudomine’s captain?” Sakata Kuri shot back at Fujii Hikaru.

Sengoku looked at the two upperclassmen, expression full of black lines. He knew they were trying to ease his pressure with teasing, but the words were still hard to swallow.

”Sengoku-kun, I’ll be revising your training plan once we’re back. Though the pre-match prediction gave you a 0.27% chance of winning, your actual performance this match fell short of expectations by 4.6%,” Mitsuya said with a smile.

Sengoku immediately forgot about the teasing and turned to Mitsuya in despair. He looked at that handsome face, ready to say something, but remembering his promise to Banda, he could only nod bitterly. It looked like tough days were ahead.

On Fudomine’s side, no one was surprised that Akashi won. They couldn’t even imagine a peer capable of beating him.

Just as Akashi sat down to rest, Banda came over again from Yamabuki’s side, wearing a warm smile as he addressed Akashi:

”Truly, I have to thank you this time, Akashi-kun. Even though Fudomine won the match, helping Sengoku grow like this is a huge plus.”

”You’re too kind, Banda. It was nothing, really. Even if you hadn’t asked, Sengoku-kun didn’t stand a chance anyway,” Akashi replied without much concern.

”You sure are confident. But since you helped this old man out, if there’s ever anything I can do to return the favor, don’t hesitate to ask, Akashi-kun~” Banda said, unfazed by Akashi’s bluntness—geniuses always had a bit of pride, after all.

”Actually, there is something I could use your help with.” Akashi seemed to recall something and addressed Banda.

”Oh? Let’s hear it—I’m curious now!” Banda responded, intrigued.

”Here’s the thing. Now that the Tokyo Tournament is over, I’m planning a one-month training camp before the Kanto Regional Tournament. But if it’s just our own team, the results might be limited. I’ve already spoken with Hyōtei, and they’ve agreed to join.”

”So I hope you’ll allow Yamabuki to participate too. I’m also planning to invite Seigaku, but as you probably know, Ryūzaki-sensei... well, her personality might require some persuasion. I’d like to ask you to help with that, Banda. What do you think?” Akashi explained his plans for the training camp.

”That so? Yamabuki has no issue at all. In fact, I’d love to see the young ones get more opportunities to exchange and grow. And with Hyōtei joining too, that’s even better. As for Ryūzaki-sensei... I’ll do my best to talk to her,” Banda said with full support.

”Then I’ll leave it to you, Banda~” Akashi thanked him sincerely.

Akashi had been considering this training camp for a long time. Relying on matches alone wouldn’t effectively push players’ growth. Only by gathering them together and using the Emperor Eye and the system to design tailored training could he fully tap into their potential.

He even thought about bringing Rikkai in, but he still wasn’t sure of their situation. Although he’d met Yukimura and Sanada once, that was it. And there was the matter of Rikkai’s school administration—he’d have to look into that.

Some might say Akashi was just helping his opponents get stronger and making things harder for himself. But Akashi had been preparing for the U-17 World Cup long ago. Besides, he believed in the group of like-minded... er, ”recruits” he’d pulled together.

Stronger opponents would only push them harder. Of course, he wasn’t dumb enough to give everyone the same high-level training plans. His own team’s program would be the most refined and suited. As for the others, as long as it accelerated their growth, that was enough.

Soon, the award ceremony began. Fuji Shūsuke watched Fudomine, Yamabuki, and Hyōtei up on stage and quietly made up his mind—he had to raise his own and his teammates’ level quickly. Seigaku had been just one step away from standing there too.

After the ceremony, Akashi specifically sought out Sakaki Tarō to discuss the training camp. Sakaki was very supportive. After all, Atobe had already agreed, so he had no reason to object. He even said he’d adjust his schedule and participate fully.

On the way back, Akashi had the butler start arranging the training grounds and daily facilities for the camp. He also called Atobe and told him to bring along his family’s nutritionists and massage therapists. With the number of participants, Akashi’s own arrangements might not be enough.

This camp was shaping up to be one on par with the U-17’s in terms of equipment and training environment. You could even call it the Kanto Training Camp. Now the only question was—would he be able to bring Rikkai onboard?