Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 78: Chapter 78: Mōri’s Brush with Death

After the match ended, Akashi returned to the coach’s bench and told Tezuka to head back to the stands to digest the feeling of Ten’i Muhō he just experienced. Akashi believed that with Tezuka’s talent, he would soon be able to activate it on his own.

Akashi rested at the bench for a while, and the dizziness in his head gradually subsided. The feeling wasn’t pleasant, and he decided not to use this technique again in the short term. Anyway, all the regulars had basically found their own paths in tennis.

He could now return to singles and shift his focus to improving his own strength—at the very least, he wanted to reach a level where he could rival Byōdōin and Oni before getting involved with U-17.

The singles three match was about to begin. Akutsu had finished warming up and was waiting by the court. Akashi didn’t give him any instructions—he trusted that Akutsu knew exactly what to do.

On the other side, Yukimura relaxed a little upon seeing Akutsu appear. It seemed the plan hadn’t deviated too much; Yanagi’s analysis had predicted Akutsu would appear at singles three, and that’s exactly what happened.

Yukimura turned to the helpless-looking Mōri and said seriously, ”Mōri-senpai, you know this match will largely determine the final outcome, so I hope you’ll give it your all to win.”

”I got it~ Little captain, you sure know how to boss people around,” Mōri replied with his usual lazy tone, but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

As the umpire announced the start, Akutsu and Mōri stepped up to the net. Mōri cheerfully reached out his hand for a handshake. Akutsu looked annoyed but gave him that courtesy and tapped his hand.

”Oh my~ what a scary face,” Mōri said with a chuckle.

”Tch,” Akutsu spat, saying nothing more.

The coin toss ended quickly, and Akutsu won the right to serve. Mōri shrugged and didn’t care at all, heading to the backcourt to receive.

Standing at the baseline, Akutsu remembered Krauser’s relayed words. Without hesitation, he tossed the ball up, his arm muscles bulging, and swung fiercely at the falling ball. The tennis ball rocketed over the net and bounced out of the court immediately.

”15-0!”

Mōri’s pupils narrowed. That serve came so fast he couldn’t even react. ’Looks like I can’t take him lightly,’ he thought to himself.

”Serve speed: 199 kilometers! Seems Akutsu’s strength has improved again. What a monster,” Yanagi said in surprise.

”Don’t worry, Yanagi! Mōri-senpai won’t lose,” said Sanada, who had just finished icing his legs.

Akutsu fired off another ultra-fast serve. This time, Mōri was fully focused, dashed to the landing spot, and returned the ball.

Akutsu wasn’t fazed at all, his wild, beast-like movements shocking many first-time spectators. The fierce rally didn’t last long before Akutsu seized the advantage.

Though both Mōri and Akutsu were national-level players, Akutsu’s unorthodox movements were difficult to adapt to in a short time. Mōri left an opening, which Akutsu quickly exploited to score another point.

”30-0!”

From the sideline, Akashi watched Mōri and couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. Honestly, Mōri’s style was quite similar to Shiraishi’s, though not as extremely balanced—but also lacking any standout strengths.

In the original story, Mōri was only memorable for sleeping and dislocating his joints on purpose. He had impressive endurance and balanced stats, but no overwhelmingly powerful techniques.

For Akutsu, that made Mōri an easier opponent. In pure tennis exchanges, Akutsu feared no one. As expected, against someone who could pull off unpredictable returns, Mōri struggled to keep up.

”40-0!”

”GAME! Fudomine! 1-0!”

It was Mōri’s turn to serve. Standing at the baseline, he took a deep breath, his playful expression replaced with intense focus. He launched the serve and rushed the net.

Mōri preferred intercepting at the net—his lateral movement was excellent, but his forward and backward agility was lacking.

Akutsu, on the other hand, was a pure attacker. After returning the serve, he charged the net without hesitation. The two clashed at the net again in a high-speed battle, but this time, Mōri was gradually adapting to Akutsu’s style, making it harder for Akutsu to score easily.

”15-0!”

”15-15!”

”15-30!”

”15-40!”

”30-40!”

Overall, Akutsu still held the upper hand. Without noticing, a black-red aura rose around him as he entered his Wild State.

”GAME! Fudomine! 2-0!”

In his Wild State, Akutsu’s reflexes and explosiveness had reached a whole new level, making it hard for Mōri to handle him at first. But there was no sign of panic on Mōri’s face.

In the third game, Akutsu unleashed another ultra-fast serve, and with his Wild boost, his serve speed broke past 200 kilometers per hour, surpassing Fūdōmine’s Ōtori’s original cannon serve.

Facing such a blazing serve, Mōri actually closed his eyes and entered his Sleep State. The moment the ball flew toward him, he opened his eyes for an instant, his pupils turning purple. Driven purely by instinct, he shot toward the ball with a movement that had an indescribable grace.

Mōri’s sleep technique was very different from Jirō’s. Jirō’s was due to physical issues, so Mōri had taught him how to rely on his instincts. But for Mōri himself, it was a method of gathering power—by putting his body into sleep, he greatly heightened his concentration, instantly reading his opponent’s direction and shot type.

A brief sleep also allowed his body to store up power for an explosive burst, making this a unique ability only Mōri possessed. Once he used this move, it always meant he was dead serious.

Sure enough, in his Sleep State, Mōri handled Akutsu’s attacks with ease. Even with his eyes closed, he returned every ball perfectly, which made Akutsu grow increasingly agitated.

”0-15!”

”0-30!”

”15-30!”

”15-40!”

”GAME! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 2-1! Change courts!”

With his Sleep State, Mōri took the third game. Akutsu scowled at the closed-eyed Mōri, getting more annoyed, but Mōri soon snapped back to normal and went to the bench to hydrate.

”Mōri-senpai, are you still holding up?” Yukimura asked with a calm smile.

”Just barely~ He’s no easy opponent,” Mōri answered casually.

On the other side, Akashi looked at the agitated Akutsu and spoke slowly: ”Calm down, Akutsu. Your strength isn’t below his. Don’t let your emotions dictate your actions.”

”I know! Don’t order me around!” Akutsu snapped, but his breathing grew steadier.

After the changeover, the match resumed, and the fierce rally picked up again. Akutsu’s wild, explosive offense contrasted sharply with Mōri’s graceful, flowing movements.

At the sideline, Akashi rested his racket across his lap and kept his gaze fixed on the court. Neither player gave an inch as the score climbed back and forth.

”GAME! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 2-2!”

”GAME! Fudomine! 3-2!”

”GAME! Fudomine! 4-2! Change courts!”

”GAME! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 4-3!”

”GAME! Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku! 4-4!”

The match quickly reached 4-4, exceeding both Yukimura and Yanagi’s expectations. They had planned on Mōri suppressing Akutsu slightly, but now it was clear they were evenly matched.

Standing at the baseline ready to serve, Akutsu caught a glimpse of Akashi holding his racket and made up his mind. Without hesitation, he tossed the ball, and it began to glow gold as he slammed it like a cannonball into Mōri’s court. But Akashi could clearly sense Akutsu had held back some of his power.

”Glowing Shot(Light Strike)!”

The moment Mōri sensed the serve, his eyes snapped open, and he gripped his racket with both hands. The ball crashed into the ground, cracking it in a spiderweb pattern, then rocketed toward Mōri. As he met the ball, a massive shock traveled up his arms, but he gritted his teeth and refused to let go. Finally, the scorched ball fell to the ground, his racket strings mostly snapped.

”15-0!”

”Oh? He actually managed to barely block a Glowing Shot? Impressive, Mōri Jūzaburō,” Akashi said softly.

The umpire paused the match, and Mōri returned to the bench to change rackets. Yukimura asked worriedly, ”Mōri-senpai, are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

”I’m fine, captain! But I might have to put my life on the line in this match,” Mōri said with a bitter smile.

Yukimura frowned and fell silent. He’d seen Akutsu’s incomplete Glowing Shot before, and Yanagi had gathered info on Fudomine’s match with Shōnan Shiten, but he hadn’t expected even Mōri couldn’t fully handle it. Now things were complicated.

When the match resumed, Akutsu wasted no time firing another Glowing Shot. Mōri used all his strength to block it. Although he fared a bit better this time—his racket didn’t break—just stopping the ball drained him completely, leaving him unable to return it.

”30-0!”

”This is turning into a real problem~” Mōri muttered with a troubled look.

From the sideline, Akashi cast a strange look at Akutsu. He hadn’t expected Akutsu to hold back the power of his Glowing Shot. Akashi had already been prepared to intercept it to prevent injuries among the spectators—at full power, Mōri would never have been able to stop it.

Just like before, Akutsu kept serving with Glowing Shot. Although Mōri gave everything he had, it was pointless. Simply managing to block it was already impressive.

”40-0!”

”GAME! Fudomine! 5-4! Change courts!”

Mōri looked at his trembling hands and let out another bitter laugh. His chances of winning were nearly gone unless he could find a way to deal with Glowing Shot.

Frankly, unless one mastered Super Sweetspot techniques, trying to return Glowing Shot was a fool’s dream. Even the incomplete Glowing Shot was overwhelming—when used by Byoudouin, it forced Oni to unleash his Kijin Aura.

It was Mōri’s turn to serve again. Though he knew his chances were slim, he wasn’t about to give up; quitting now would be pathetic.

In that moment, he thought of Sanada, the vice-captain who always treated him harshly. Today, Sanada had chosen to fight with everything he had, even if it meant injuring his legs. And what about himself? He’d always tried to skip training whenever he could, avoided tough matches whenever possible—did he really love tennis?

But he didn’t have time to keep thinking. The umpire was urging him to serve. Mōri shook his head hard, forcing the thoughts away, then served the ball quickly.

Akutsu didn’t start with another Glowing Shot this time; he attacked head-on at the net instead, wanting to beat Mōri in a straightforward exchange.

But soon, Akutsu realized Mōri had slipped back into his Sleep State, and he began falling behind. Gritting his teeth, Akutsu unleashed another Glowing Shot without hesitation.

”0-15!”

”0-30!”

”0-40!”

Facing Akutsu’s Glowing Shot, Mōri had no answers and could only watch himself lose point after point. Around them, the crowd was dumbfounded—just seeing a ball glowing with light shattered their understanding of tennis.

The match reached match point. Mōri was all but defeated, yet he still served with an aggressive stance, unwilling to yield.

Akutsu looked at Mōri’s defiant posture and a small smile flashed across his face, gone in an instant. He then unleashed his final Glowing Shot. Mōri didn’t hesitate; he gripped his racket with both hands and charged to meet it, letting out a fierce roar.

”Get... back!” Mōri screamed at the top of his lungs.

The ball spun violently against his racket, but at the last moment, Mōri somehow managed to return it. The quality of the return was terrible, but the ball floated back over the net.

Akutsu’s eyes lit up as he watched the high lob drift toward him. From Akashi’s expression, it was clear he sensed something bad was coming and grabbed his racket, rising to his feet.

Akutsu leapt high, channeling every bit of his power into his right arm. As he smashed the ball, a brilliant golden light burst forth, so bright it nearly blinded everyone watching.

”This is the real Glowing Shot!” Akutsu shouted midair, exhilarated.

The ball flew over the net, transforming into a massive golden sphere half the size of the court, crashing toward Mōri with a world-shattering force.

”Get out of the way, Mōri-senpai!” Yukimura yelled from the sideline.

In that instant, Mōri’s mind froze. Staring at the giant golden ball, he couldn’t react—his life flashing before his eyes. But his sleeping body’s instincts saved him, throwing him sideways at the last second.

The ball streaked over Mōri’s head and slammed into the back court with an earth-shaking boom. A massive crater formed instantly, dust and debris billowing into the air. The glowing ball then bounced, still radiating golden light, and headed straight for the stands.

Spectators behind Mōri screamed and tried to flee, but there was no time. Just as despair hit them, Akashi suddenly appeared in the ball’s path, racket raised.

A wild force pounded against Akashi’s racket, but he absorbed it all. The ball’s power gradually dwindled until it vanished completely. A mangled, scorched tennis ball lay quietly in Akashi’s racket.

”GAME! 6-4! Match over! Winner: Fudomine Middle School!”