Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 71: Chapter 71: Fifth Counter

The second game was Tezuka’s serve. Standing at the baseline, Tezuka looked seriously at Fuji across from him and said, ”Is this your current strength, Fuji?”

”Who knows~ But you definitely weren’t going all out just now, Tezuka!” Fuji looked at him intently.

”Is that so? Then let’s go all out!” A sharp light flashed in Tezuka’s eyes as he finished speaking.

Tezuka took a deep breath, tossed the tennis ball high, then swung his racket hard, giving the ball a strong spin. But the speed was a bit slow, probably less than 160 kilometers per hour.

Fuji looked confused when he saw it. This didn’t look like a serve Tezuka would normally make. Still, he quickly ran toward the drop point. After crossing the net, the ball landed near the front court. Just as Fuji prepared to return it, the ball didn’t bounce but instead spun quickly, then slowly rolled backward, stopping right against the net.

”Zero Shiki Serve!”

”Ace! 15-0!”

Fuji stared at the ball in disbelief. This was a move he never expected from Tezuka, not even during the training camp where he had never seen Tezuka use it publicly.

”So this is your all-out effort, Tezuka? I can’t help but admire it~” Fuji said with a complicated expression.

This kind of serve was nearly unreturnable. According to tennis rules, you had to wait for the ball to hit the ground before returning a serve, but with Tezuka’s serve not bouncing at all, Fuji couldn’t think of any way to counter it.

”To control spin on a tennis ball to this extent... but the burden on his arm must be pretty intense, too,” Saitō Itaru muttered quietly from the sidelines.

The surrounding spectators were also abuzz after seeing Tezuka’s Zero Shiki Serve. Some had witnessed his Zero Shiki Drop Shot before, but they never expected him to apply the same principle to his serve—this made it an unbeatable technique.

”It’s the same principle as the Zero Shiki Drop Shot, but since it’s a serve, he can’t use the opponent’s return spin, so the burden on his arm is several times heavier!” Inui Sadaharu said slowly, eyes gleaming.

”Tezuka Kunimitsu, I hope you don’t end up like me. Treasure your arm~” Yamato Yūdai murmured, clutching his right hand.

Over in the Fudomine players’ seats, everyone looked a bit surprised. Of course, it wasn’t the Zero Shiki Serve itself—they’d seen it before. What shocked them was that Tezuka was using it now.

”Didn’t expect that guy Tezuka to use Zero Shiki Serve already. I thought he’d save it for the finals or the Nationals~” Tachibana Kippei said, sounding a bit surprised.

”Tezuka and Fuji have known each other since elementary school. Going all out is the highest form of respect he can show Fuji!” Chitose Senri said seriously.

”Fuji deserves to face Tezuka’s full power. If Tezuka holds back, who knows who’ll win. After all, Fuji can evolve at any time!” Akashi Seijurō said with a smile.

Akashi was very satisfied with the current Fuji. Not only did he now have the desire to win, but he also carried Seigaku’s hopes on his shoulders, which accelerated his evolution. And given Fuji’s personality, he wouldn’t become burdened like the original Tezuka, which made Akashi excited to see just how far Fuji’s growth could go.

Tezuka took out another tennis ball, getting ready to serve again. Fuji focused intently on him. Even though he hadn’t figured out a way to counter it yet, he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Ace! 40-0!”

”Game! Fudomine! 1-1!”

Even so, Fuji still had no way to deal with Tezuka’s Zero Shiki Serve. On the last attempt, he tried touching the ball with his racket, but the ball just bounced off, leaving him with a wry smile.

The match switched back to Fuji’s serve. Standing at the baseline, Fuji opened his eyes, glaring sharply at Tezuka and whispering, ”Going all out, huh? Fine, it’s about time I do the same, Tezuka!”

Right after speaking, he launched a high-speed serve. The ball flew at over 180 kilometers per hour with a sharp angle, heading straight for the back right corner on Tezuka’s side.

Without hesitation, Tezuka sprinted to the back right corner. Just as the ball was about to go out, he intercepted it and returned it immediately. But as soon as he hit it, he realized the ball had topspin and quickly rushed toward the net.

However, Fuji didn’t set up for Tsubame Gaeshi. Instead, he made a quick, normal-looking return, but the spin on the ball was intense. As soon as it crossed the net, it dropped sharply to the ground and then skimmed quickly along the surface, sliding out of the court before Tezuka could reach the front court.

”First Counter! Hōō Gaeshi!”

”15-0!”

In Seigaku’s players’ seats, Kikumaru’s eyes went wide in surprise as he turned to Oishi and said, ”Oishi, are my ears still not working right, or did Fuji just say ’phoenix’? Phoenix!”

”You heard right, Eiji. It really was Hōō Gaeshi. Could it be an advanced version of Tsubame Gaeshi?” Oishi answered while also looking shocked.

”Hōō Gaeshi, huh? That’s so your style, Fuji!” Inui pushed up his glasses as he spoke.

The Fudomine team didn’t look surprised at all. Although this move was a lot stronger than the original Tsubame Gaeshi, it still wasn’t a real threat to Tezuka. The simplest way to deal with it was to avoid hitting topspin shots.

Akashi had a knowing look on his face. He’d already seen signs of this evolution in Fuji’s earlier Tsubame Gaeshi. He just wondered if Fuji had evolved the other two moves as well.

Tezuka only glanced coldly at the ball outside the court without saying anything, his face emotionless as he walked back to his baseline, ready for Fuji’s serve.

”Judging by your look, you’re planning to stop using topspin shots next, right, Tezuka~” Fuji smiled at Tezuka.

Seeing Tezuka still not responding, Fuji didn’t care at all and fired another high-speed shot, identical in angle to the last one. But what surprised everyone was that Tezuka once again hit a topspin return.

Fuji was stunned for a moment but didn’t hesitate. He prepared to use Hōō Gaeshi again. Suddenly, seven-colored light erupted around Tezuka, gathering in his legs.

Right after Fuji launched Hōō Gaeshi, Tezuka sprinted to the net, leaving behind afterimages. The seven-colored light instantly shifted to his left hand. As Fuji’s return crossed the net, Tezuka intercepted it and smashed it down even faster, sending it skimming out of Fuji’s front court.

”Muga no Kyochi—Hyaku Ren Jitoku no Kiwami!”

”15-15!”

”I see... using Hyaku Ren Jitoku’s Muga power to easily break my return, huh? You’re something else, Tezuka!” Fuji said seriously, his face tense.

”If this is all the strength you’ve got, you won’t win, Fuji!” Tezuka answered calmly.

On the sidelines, Saitō Itaru couldn’t help nodding approvingly as he said in a cheerful tone, ”Such impressive talents. These first-years’ abilities are every bit as good as Byoudouin’s generation. Looks like Japanese tennis is about to enter a golden age.”

Fuji returned to the baseline, his face now serious. He knew he couldn’t let his guard down for even a moment, or Tezuka would overwhelm him. He tossed the ball high and smashed a fast serve straight at Tezuka’s left baseline corner.

Tezuka dashed to the spot and returned it without topspin this time. The seven-colored light kept flowing around him, clearly maintaining Hyaku Ren Jitoku’s state.

Seeing the powerful counter, Fuji didn’t hesitate. He ran with all his strength to the landing point, grabbed his racket with both hands, and smashed the ball back. But it looked like the quality of the return was poor—it floated high in the air.

Tezuka didn’t hold back. He instantly reached the net, leaped high, and swung down with his racket wrapped in seven-colored light, spiking the ball hard.

”Damn! With Tezuka’s amplified Hyaku Ren Jitoku, Fuji’s Higuma Otoshi won’t stand a chance!” Inui said nervously as he watched.

But Fuji, after reaching the ball’s landing point, didn’t go for Higuma Otoshi at all. Instead, he kept gripping his racket with both hands, twisted his body backward, and suddenly unleashed a powerful swing, channeling the full force of his body with centrifugal force to intercept the falling ball and whip it back up.

The ball shot into the air at lightning speed, skimmed past Tezuka’s face, and slammed hard onto the baseline before bouncing out of the court. Tezuka had just landed on the ground.

”Second Counter! Kirin Otoshi!”

”30-15!”

”Even Higuma Otoshi has evolved? As expected of the genius Fuji~” Yamato said happily from Seigaku’s players’ seats.

Ryūzaki Sumire looked at Fuji and Tezuka with a blank stare, completely stunned. She couldn’t understand it—other than Yamato, everyone on court so far was just a first-year student, yet their tennis skills were far beyond any third-year players she had ever seen.

Especially Akashi’s dark strike in the last match—this wasn’t even tennis anymore; it completely went beyond what Ryūzaki Sumire could comprehend. At least, that’s how it felt to her. Even during the training camp, she rarely paid attention to players from other schools, so she had never seen Akutsu’s half-finished Light Strike.

If Seigaku had been strong enough last year to make it to the Nationals, and she’d witnessed Byoudouin’s tennis, her worldview probably would’ve shattered back then.

The Seigaku team had long noticed that Ryūzaki-sensei barely spoke since the match started, but they thought she was just upset about the match’s outcome and didn’t want to talk. They had no idea her entire worldview had collapsed, leaving her completely speechless.

Fuji served the ball again. Just then, he felt a breeze blowing toward him and a faint smile appeared on his face. Tezuka frowned, deactivated Hyaku Ren Jitoku, but the Muga power didn’t disappear—it began shifting toward his brain.

It was clear Tezuka was planning to use Saiki Kanpatsu’s ability to simulate the match’s flow. At that moment, Fuji stepped forward and sliced the incoming ball with a backhand. The ball soared high right after crossing the net, then slammed into the baseline. Tezuka’s expression stayed calm as he waited for the ball to rebound.

But when it hit the ground, it didn’t bounce backward as expected—instead, it shot off sharply to the left, instantly flying out of bounds before being caught single-handedly by Akashi.

”Third Counter! Hakuryu!”

”40-15!”

Akashi chuckled softly and tossed the ball to a staff member on the sidelines. He’d guessed perfectly—Fuji had evolved all three of his returns. Fuji’s strength was now nearly the same as when he faced Shiraishi in the original story, but two years earlier. This was a huge leap forward.

As expected, Fuji’s talent had been seriously underestimated. In the original timeline, the two years before the story began were a complete waste. Seigaku had two top-tier powerhouses, but one was left injured and the other slacked off—it was a total waste of potential.

While everyone was still in shock over Fuji’s Hakuryu, seven-colored light rose around Tezuka again. Tiny sparkles appeared around his hair, showing he’d fully activated Saiki Kanpatsu no Kiwami.

”Six shots!”

Tezuka made an absolute prediction. Yamato and the others tensed up immediately. They knew how powerful Saiki Kanpatsu was. Inui especially envied this ability because it was so similar to his Data Tennis, but the principles were totally different—he knew he’d never master it in his life.

Fuji heard Tezuka’s prediction but didn’t show much change in his expression. He rotated his wrist, his eyes becoming even sharper, then tossed the ball high. As he smashed the serve, a low growl came from his throat, clearly showing he was giving it everything he had.

The ball flew at incredible speed toward Tezuka’s side, but Tezuka seemed to know in advance exactly where it would land. He rushed to the spot, hit a backhand shot, and sent the ball spinning with his signature field rotation toward Fuji.

Fuji instantly countered with Kagerō Zutsumi, canceling the spin on the ball and returning it cleanly with a fast stroke. Tezuka showed no surprise, quickly moving to the ball again and hitting a straight shot back, once more adding his field’s spin.

This time, instead of using Kagerō Zutsumi, Fuji angled his racket face upward and sliced sideways at the ball. The ball rolled quickly along the racket’s surface. Just as it was about to slip off, Fuji flicked the racket slightly, adding another layer of spin before firing it back.

”Your return won’t even make it over the net!” Fuji said after hitting the ball, his words making no sense to the onlookers as he turned his back on Tezuka.

Tezuka heard Fuji’s words—this move was clearly beyond what his Saiki Kanpatsu could simulate. He didn’t let it faze him, but he felt the field spin had been broken. He rushed to the ball’s landing spot, let it bounce, and smashed a powerful forehand back.

But just as the ball neared the net, it suddenly dropped sharply, crashed into the net, and rolled to the ground. Fuji’s voice echoed again.

”Fifth Counter! Hecatoncheires no Monban!”

”Game! Seishun Academy! 2-1!”