Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 73: Chapter 73: Hyōtei’s Defeat Again

On Rikkai’s bench, Yukimura stared at Atobe with a focused gaze, a bit surprised. With his ability, he could tell Atobe’s last shot had precisely targeted Sanada’s absolute blind spot.

Hundreds of Hyōtei members around the court immediately started chanting Atobe’s name, cheering loudly. It was Hyōtei’s moment of life and death, and they were determined to give everything they could.

”What was up with that last shot? Why didn’t Sanada go for it? It was just a simple straight shot!” Marui said in surprise.

”Puri~ I felt like Sanada’s movement just now was oddly off~” Niō said as he looked at Sanada.

”The return point must’ve hit Sanada’s dead angle, stopping him from reacting in time,” Yanagi said quietly, narrowing his eyes.

Sanada stood there, stunned, replaying what had happened in his mind. At that moment, his body had completely frozen, even though it was just an ordinary return. Why had that happened?

Thinking about it, Sanada looked across the net with a serious expression at Atobe, who was clutching one eye and laughing wildly. He knew Atobe had done something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was just yet.

”Sanada, this match will end with you completely frozen by me!” Atobe declared, laughing before regaining his haughty demeanor.

Sanada just frowned, ignoring Atobe’s taunts. He trusted his strength. Even if Atobe had a new move, he believed he could break it down quickly.

Atobe served again, and they clashed fiercely at the net. After two rallies, multiple ice spikes shot out again from Atobe’s eyes, pinning Sanada’s surroundings. After Atobe’s return, Sanada was once again frozen in place, unable to respond.

”Ice World!”

”Hyōtei Academy takes the lead!”

”Game! Hyōtei Academy! 5-3!”

With Ice World, Atobe took the game, pulling himself out of the brink of match point. Sanada still couldn’t return Atobe’s attack, but he was starting to grasp what was happening.

”Targeting blind spots with your attacks, huh? Impressive, Atobe. But Rikkai’s reign over Kanto has no weaknesses!” Sanada said firmly, eyes locked on Atobe.

”Still not giving up? You’ll never escape these eyes of mine!” Atobe retorted with disdain.

The match resumed, Sanada attacking fiercely with Swift as the wind, silent as the forest, fierce as fire, immovable as a mountain. But Atobe, who had mastered Ice World, showed no fear, eyes locked onto Sanada as he saw through every blind spot.

”Game! Hyōtei Academy! 5-4!”

”Game! Hyōtei Academy! 5-5!”

”Game! Hyōtei Academy! 6-5!”

In the blink of an eye, Atobe took three straight games with Ice World, his momentum growing stronger and stronger. Meanwhile, Sanada’s breathing became increasingly labored, and the combined physical and mental strain began to shake his confidence.

He didn’t know what to do. He could break Atobe’s Ice World if he really tried, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it now—it was tied to his inner struggle.

But Atobe didn’t give Sanada any time to hesitate. He served from the baseline, forcing Sanada to push his doubts aside and respond with everything he had.

”Still can’t let go of Tezuka, can you, Gen’ichirō~” Yukimura murmured softly from the bench.

Then he glanced at the freshly warmed-up Mōri, speaking with a complicated tone: ”Mōri-senpai, get ready. I think we’ll need you on court soon.”

”Oh? Little captain thinks Sanada will lose? That’s rare~” Mōri teased casually.

”After today’s match, I’ll talk to Gen’ichirō myself. But for now, I’m counting on you, Mōri-senpai. End it cleanly,” Yukimura said seriously, ignoring Mōri’s joking tone.

On court, the match had reached match point—Atobe’s match point. It was almost surreal; just a while ago it had been Sanada’s match point, but now the situation had flipped completely.

”Sanada, I think I’ll return those words to you—this time, I’ll drag you into the abyss of defeat!” Atobe sneered as he looked at the battered Sanada.

Hearing Atobe’s words, Sanada’s head lowered. His grip on the racket tightened as anger, conflict, and guilt twisted across his face.

Atobe ignored Sanada’s reaction, tossing the ball high and serving a fast shot. But even with his impressive stamina, Atobe was starting to feel exhausted, and the serve’s speed was noticeably slower.

Sanada gritted his teeth and unleashed Swift as the wind at the incoming ball, but the speed was clearly much slower. Atobe rushed to the drop point and smashed a powerful forehand. Sanada responded without hesitation with Fierce as fire, but the ball only flickered with a faint glow.

A cold gleam flashed again in Atobe’s eyes as multiple ice spikes shot out, surrounding Sanada. Atobe gripped his racket tightly with both hands and slammed the ball toward one of the spikes, shouting loudly: ”Be frozen forever by me, Sanada! Ice World!”

As the ball crossed the net, faint streaks of lightning flickered around Sanada’s legs, but they quickly faded away. The ball zipped past him, scattering shards of ice in its wake.

”Game! 7-5! Match over! Winner, Hyōtei Academy!”

After the match ended, Sanada stood on court with his head bowed, silent for a long time. Atobe, meanwhile, was clutching both eyes, his eyeballs completely bloodshot like a certain kelp-haired character a year later. If the match had continued, Atobe’s eyes would have been the first to give out.

Finally, Sanada slowly walked off court, while Atobe was already back at the players’ bench with an ice towel pressed to his eyes. The match had drained his eyesight so much that if he kept going, he’d probably have to change his name to Uchiha Keigo (dog head for safety)!

Sanada stood in front of Yukimura and spoke in a deeply dejected voice: ”I’m sorry, Yukimura! I lost!”

”Gen’ichirō! You and I both know you could have won this match. But your heart held you back!” Yukimura’s tone carried a rare hint of severity.

Sanada fell silent again at those words. He knew it himself, but he couldn’t overcome the block in his heart.

”My my~ honestly! Sanada, it’s fine that you lost, but now this old man has to come out and clean up the mess—such a hassle~” Mōri joked lightly, clearly trying to ease the tension.

”Mōri-senpai, based on the data, you are precisely 503 days older than Sanada, so calling yourself an old man isn’t quite accurate,” Yanagi said seriously from the side.

Mōri looked speechlessly at Yanagi, inwardly grumbling: ’Did you really have to calculate it down to the exact number of days? What an inflexible guy... he’ll never find a girlfriend at this rate!’

Meanwhile at the Hyōtei bench, Atobe was icing his eyes when an annoying voice suddenly sounded nearby.

”Oh my? What happened to you, Atobe? Hiding behind that towel and crying?” Akashi stood behind the Hyōtei bench, smiling as he spoke.

Atobe yanked the ice towel from his face, glaring with bloodshot eyes at Akashi, scowling as he said, ”Are you kidding me? Me, cry? Akashi, when did your eyesight get so bad?”

”Seeing those blood-red eyes of yours, it looks like you overused your vision. It seems when it comes to eyesight, you’re still a step behind~” Akashi said casually, a mocking smile on his face.

”You...!” Atobe started to snap back, but Sakaki Tarō stepped in to stop him. Oshitari quickly brought a fresh ice towel forward and pressed it against Atobe’s eyes. Though clearly annoyed, Atobe didn’t resist.

”Akashi-kun, does that mean your match is already over?” Sakaki asked Akashi calmly.

”Mm! Yes, it is. But it looks like Hyōtei isn’t doing so well,” Akashi replied, turning to Sakaki with a faint smile.

”Rikkai is indeed strong this year. But the match isn’t over yet—anything can still happen,” Sakaki said, though he knew in his heart Hyōtei had already lost.

Akashi smiled faintly without replying, turning his eyes to the two players walking onto the court. Well, well—it was another clash between two sleepyheads. Rikkai had sent out Mōri, while Hyōtei’s player was Akutagawa Jirō.

Jirō stumbled sleepily onto the court, but when he spotted Mōri across the net, his eyes lit up and he perked up immediately, running excitedly to the net and waving as he called out: ”Mōri-senpai! Mōri-senpai! I can’t believe I get to play you again—this is so exciting!”

Mōri’s face twisted awkwardly as he watched Jirō bounce up and down at the net. He suddenly wanted to pretend he didn’t know this guy, but wasn’t sure if it was too late.

Before he could decide, the umpire interrupted, signaling Mōri to proceed with the pre-match greeting. Left with no choice, Mōri forced a stiff smile and said, ”Jirō, don’t get too worked up—let’s have a good match~”

”No problem, Mōri-senpai! Today I’ll show you the new move I learned!” Jirō exclaimed, still bursting with energy.

”Uh... never mind, forget I said anything,” Mōri muttered helplessly.

Soon the two finished the coin toss, and Jirō luckily got the serve. The umpire announced the start of the match at just the right moment.

”First game! Hyōtei Academy to serve!”

Jirō stood on the baseline, bouncing with excitement, his curly hair bobbing up and down with every jump. He quickly tossed the ball low into the air and immediately swung, sending it across the net before dashing forward to the net.

Mōri wasn’t the least bit surprised by Jirō’s serve-and-volley approach; he’d seen it during the training camp. He quickly returned the ball to Jirō’s feet, but even while sprinting, Jirō reacted with a flick of his wrist, scooping the ball up and sending it back.

Mōri wasn’t idle either, rushing to the drop point and smashing a powerful return. The two began a rapid-fire rally at the net, with Jirō attacking relentlessly. His nimble wrists let him catch some incredibly sharp angles.

But the overall gap in their abilities wasn’t something that could be closed so easily. After a few rallies, Mōri suddenly increased his power, and Jirō couldn’t handle it at all, starting to lose point after point.

”0-15!”

”0-30!”

”0-40!”

”Game! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 1-0!”

Mōri broke serve with ease, taking the first game. For ordinary players, crossing the threshold into national-level skill was nearly impossible, unless they were prodigies like Akutsu or could evolve like Fuji.

The following games went the same way. No matter how hard Jirō attacked, he couldn’t threaten Mōri. Mōri, even without flashy techniques, dominated Jirō effortlessly with his national-level stats.

”Game! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 2-0!”

”Game! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 3-0!”

”Game! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 4-0!”

In the blink of an eye, Mōri took four straight games. The match looked completely decided; the difference in their strength was too obvious.

The fifth game started with Jirō’s serve. But then something unexpected happened—Jirō suddenly dropped his head, and if one listened closely, one could hear faint snoring. He had actually fallen asleep in the middle of the match!

The Hyōtei members all started facepalming, deeply embarrassed. But they knew it wasn’t Jirō’s fault—he couldn’t control it. Just as they were about to run over and wake him up, they were shocked to see Jirō start to move.

Even with his eyes still closed and snoring, he tossed the ball, leaned forward as he swung, and served. Then he sprinted for the net faster than before.

”Is that... Mōri-senpai’s move?” Kuwahara Jackal exclaimed in disbelief.

”Yes, it’s definitely Mōri-senpai’s technique. Looks like something happened during the training camp that we didn’t know about. I can’t believe I didn’t gather this intel...” Yanagi muttered to himself in frustration.

On court, Mōri watched Jirō, still clearly asleep, with a faint smile of respect flashing across his face. He quickly began to return shots, and the two traded fierce rallies. Jirō’s movements were even smoother and faster than when he was awake.

”15-0!”

”15-15!”

”15-30!”

”15-40!”

”30-40!”

”Game! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 5-0!”

Although Mōri still won the game, Jirō had barely kept up with his pace. Whether Mōri had gone easy on him, only Mōri knew.

”I didn’t expect Mōri would actually teach Jirō that move. That saves me quite a bit of trouble~” Akashi said quietly.

With his sleeping state enhancing his performance, Jirō’s level had approached the peak of Kanto-level, though he was still a fair distance from national level.

”Game! 6-0! Match over! Winner, Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku!”

In the end, Jirō still lost completely. But given the gap between them, it was inevitable; a single special state couldn’t bridge such a wide chasm, and Jirō had already done well.

But with Jirō’s loss, Hyōtei’s chance of reaching the Kanto finals vanished completely. They would have to fight Seigaku for third place tomorrow—truly a fated rivalry~

On the bus ride back, Akashi was already thinking about tomorrow’s lineup against Rikkai. First, he planned to place Kite in singles one, since his current focus needed to be on fully breaking through to the national level and it wasn’t ideal for him to compete immediately.