Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: The First-String Returns

The representatives chosen from Court No. 4 this time all had national-level strength, but they were very ordinary national-level players without any decent finishing techniques.

In the Doubles 2 match, facing the original Shishigaku’s ace doubles pair, the two second-year players were completely overwhelmed. In the original story, when Tachibana Kippei and Chitose first joined Shishigaku, many thought their doubles skills weren’t yet a match for Suzuki Shun and Washio Issa.

The result was obvious: 6-0. This made everyone from Court No. 4 look uneasy. They hadn’t expected to lose the first match so badly, especially against two first-year kids.

However, thinking of their Doubles 1 lineup, they relaxed a bit—this was their trump card, and they had almost never lost in doubles.

Unfortunately for them, this time they faced the Mutsu brothers. As soon as the match started, the Mutsu brothers activated Synchronization without holding back at all. Combined with their beginner-level national strength, they completely suppressed their opponents, ending the match with the same 6-0 score.

Some of the upperclassmen on Court No. 4 were clearly getting anxious. If they lost one more match, they’d all be demoted to Court No. 5, something they absolutely couldn’t accept.

They couldn’t understand it at all—those first-year brats who had always stayed on Court No. 5 without ever challenging anyone suddenly had such strength. This was clearly first-string level!

At that moment, the leader of Court No. 4, Sōsuke Shōta, stepped forward. This third-year player was the strongest on Court No. 4, known as the ”Net Fortress”—no matter what kind of shot, he could intercept it with ease.

Sōsuke confidently walked onto the court to wait for his opponent, but the moment he saw who it was, he exploded in rage. Court No. 5 actually dared to send that first-year brat to play Singles 3!

”Bastards! How dare you humiliate us by sending a first-year piece of trash to the match!” Sōsuke roared furiously at the players from Court No. 5.

”Oh my~ looks like that guy’s in for it~” Irie chuckled, shaking his head.

”Seeking death,” Ochi Tsukimitsu said coldly, though his bangs were so long no one could see his expression.

Irie had already given everyone a brief rundown of Akashi’s strength. There was no way someone who’d crushed his way from Court No. 10 to Court No. 5 was weak.

When Akashi heard Sōsuke’s words, his eyes turned ice-cold, devoid of any emotion. The way he looked at Sōsuke was as if he were staring at a dead man. Akashi calmly walked onto the court and said flatly to the umpire:

”I don’t need the serve. Let’s start the match right away—don’t waste my time.”

The umpire froze. He hadn’t expected Akashi to say something like that, but as long as the players agreed, he had no objection. So he simply announced the start of the match and gave the serve to Sōsuke.

”Very good! Looks like you’re so scared you even forgot to take off your jacket. It’s too late to suck up to me now. Blame those who sent you up here, brat!” Sōsuke sneered viciously.

Then he served diagonally with a serve speed of around 185 km/h, which was decent. The upperclassmen watching were waiting for Akashi to embarrass himself so they could ease their frustration.

But Akashi flashed to the hitting point and swung his racket. The instant the ball touched his racket, it erupted with dazzling golden light, and that golden glow shone on Akashi’s body, his coat billowing behind him like a descending god.

”This is... truly shocking~” Irie squinted, his voice tinged with surprise.

The tennis ball, wrapped in overwhelming force, roared toward Sōsuke. Every upperclassman watching was stunned. They’d seen this kind of shot before, and terrifying memories surfaced in their minds.

Sōsuke stood frozen as the blazing light ball approached, his brain unable to process what was happening. The massive golden ball smashed directly into him, sending him flying backward into the court’s fence. A huge circular dent appeared in the wall, with cracks radiating outward.

As Akashi fired the Glowing Shot, he had already turned to walk off the court. Hearing the loud crash behind him, he sneered coldly:

”Trash? Hah—what a laughable and pathetic existence.”

The umpire quickly called for the medical team to come to Court No. 4. The match was clearly over—Sōsuke had lost all ability to continue, and surviving was already lucky for him.

The loudspeakers then broadcast the coach’s voice, announcing that all players from Court No. 5 were promoted to Court No. 4, completely ignoring Sōsuke’s condition.

However, because Court No. 4 needed repairs, the players from Court No. 5 would continue training on their original court for the day, moving to Court No. 4 the next day. The former upperclassmen of Court No. 4 were left to find someplace else to stay.

After the shuffle match ended, the looks everyone gave Akashi clearly changed. If before there was just recognition for a talented junior, now there was a hint of respect. For tennis players, as long as you have overwhelming strength, you earn the respect you deserve.

That evening, Kimijima Ikuto once again submitted an application for a shuffle match to the coaches. Obviously, the target this time was Court No. 3. The first-year players had completely decided they wouldn’t keep their heads down any longer.

The coaches didn’t hesitate at all and directly approved their application, preparing to schedule another team shuffle match the next day. However, this time they didn’t force Akashi to participate, probably worried he’d damage the court again.

So the next day, the announcement came over the speakers: Court No. 4 would face Court No. 3 in a team shuffle match. Today Akashi purely watched as a spectator—there was no need for him to play when dealing with Court No. 3. Everyone already treated him as a player at the level of the team’s ace.

It wasn’t long before the players from Court No. 3 were completely defeated, not even lasting until Singles 2. It was worth noting that in the Doubles 1 match, Date Otoko used Otoko no Haru to smash his opponents off the court, clearly fired up by Akashi’s move the day before.

The upperclassmen on Courts No. 1 and No. 2 were already feeling the pressure. Their backbone was currently away on an overseas expedition, and they hadn’t expected the first-year brats to start a full-blown revolt at this moment.

Actually, the coaches’ original plan was simple: let Byoudouin suppress the first-string members, and have Oni stay at the training camp to keep the remaining upperclassmen in check, maintaining order for now. But before the first-stringers could return, the first-years had launched their attack, completely beyond the coaches’ expectations.

However, since things had progressed to this point, the coaches simply decided to let it play out. By the time the first-stringers returned, the entire camp would already have changed hands, and then they could weed out the troublemakers within the first-string and completely renew the training camp.

Sure enough, that evening, Kimijima once again submitted an application, aiming to bring down Court No. 2 the next day. Honestly, with the current strength of the players from Court No. 5, even the first-stringers would have a tough time against them.

Like with Court No. 3, Court No. 2 couldn’t hold out for long and were completely defeated. Many of the strongest first-years had held back from challenging the first-string until now just for this moment.

After Court No. 2 fell, the players on Court No. 1 were more nervous than ever. A group of upperclassmen huddled together, discussing countermeasures.

”Damn it! Those brats already reached Court No. 2—they’ll come for us tomorrow!”

”We’re the entire camp’s second-string! Who gave them the guts to challenge us?”

”Tch, they’re just taking advantage of the first-stringers being away to try to steal our spots.”

”We’re not like those pushovers on Court No. 2. They’re not qualified to challenge us. But wouldn’t it be easier if we just stopped them from even making it to the court?”

”Forget that idea. With that guy Oni watching, and the coaches’ eyes everywhere, we don’t have any room to pull something like that off!”

Meanwhile, on Court No. 2, everyone was also discussing tomorrow’s lineup. Even though they were confident, they knew the players on Court No. 1 were the real deal—they couldn’t afford a careless mistake.

After deliberation, they chose the strongest lineup for tomorrow’s match:

Doubles 2: Mutsu Yuma, Mutsu Yuho

Doubles 1: Omagari Ryūji, Kimijima Ikuto

Singles 3: Ochi Tsukimitsu

Singles 2: Irie Kanata

Singles 1: Akashi Seijurō

Honestly, this lineup would be impressive even among the first-string. The Mutsu brothers were unbeatable in doubles outside of the first-string. Omagari and Kimijima were both players who appeared in the top ten in the original story. Ochi was called Hyōtei’s legendary captain. Irie and Akashi needed no further explanation.

But Akashi thought it was unlikely he’d even have to play tomorrow. With this lineup, if it somehow went all the way to Singles 1, the players on Court No. 1 should have been first-string long ago.

The next morning, a heavy, oppressive atmosphere hung over the entire training camp, as if something big was about to happen. All the upperclassmen were hoping the players from Court No. 1 could hold the line; otherwise, they’d all end up completely suppressed by the first-years.

The coaches wasted no time—right as morning training began, they announced the start of the team shuffle match. The players from Court No. 2 went directly to Court No. 1.

The players on Court No. 1 were already in full battle mode. Though they were extremely frustrated, they had no choice—this was the rule of the camp, and they’d have to follow it unless they wanted to leave.

Even Oni and Tanegashima had come to Court No. 1 today, clearly to prevent desperate upperclassmen from doing something reckless.

Neither side exchanged greetings; the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The umpire didn’t waste words either—he flipped a coin for the serve. Soon, the Doubles 2 match began, with the Mutsu brothers winning the serve.

The Doubles Two pair from Court No. 1 was a veteran third-year national-level duo. In terms of coordination and teamwork, they weren’t inferior to the Mutsu brothers, and their individual skills were impressive too.

But unfortunately, they couldn’t synchronize. In doubles, whether or not you can synchronize makes a world of difference. At first, the two third-years could keep up with the Mutsu brothers for a while, but once the Mutsu brothers activated their synchronization, the tide turned sharply.

”GAME! 6-2! Match over! Winner: Court No. 2!”

For the Doubles One match, Omagari Ryūji took to the court wielding two rackets at once. Akashi couldn’t help but marvel at the absurdity of tennis rules in this world—this kind of thing was actually allowed because there was no rule explicitly forbidding two rackets.

Throughout the match, Omagari swung his two rackets like a wall at the net, blocking nearly every shot. Kimijima Ikuto in the back hardly had to do anything as they cruised to victory.

”GAME! 6-1! Match over! Winner: Court No. 2!”

At this point, the upperclassmen on the sidelines started to panic. This was an outcome they hadn’t imagined no matter how they’d prepared. Both doubles matches had ended in overwhelming losses, and they were supposed to be the second-string!

No matter how anxious and furious they were, they couldn’t change the reality that one more loss would mean total defeat. Their last hope now lay in Singles Three, with Court No. 1’s captain, Eishi Satoru—a player with national-level strength who wasn’t far from the national elite. He’d previously been on the first-string.

However, after being crushed by Mitsuya, he had withdrawn to Court No. 1 and refused to return to the first-string. Now he was the last chance for Court No. 1.

But his luck wasn’t great: serve went to Ochi Tsukimitsu, and Akashi could already see how this would end. It looked like neither he nor Irie-senpai would get to play today.

Ochi stood on the baseline, preparing to serve. His towering height alone exuded an invisible pressure. Eishi got ready on the opposite side, eyes locked on Ochi. Suddenly the umpire’s voice rang out.

”ACE! 15-0!”

Eishi stared back in disbelief. A tennis ball lay motionless beyond the court. Among everyone watching, probably only Akashi had actually seen the serve—its speed had to be over 240 kilometers per hour. As expected of the legendary Mach Serve.

And Akashi was sure this wasn’t even Ochi’s full power. In the original story, his Mach Serve could reach 293 kilometers per hour; even as a first-year now, he could probably still hit 280 kilometers.

The match continued. Eishi, unwilling to give in, focused intensely on Ochi. Ochi made his serve motion, and then...

”ACE! 30-0!”

A cold bead of sweat dripped down Eishi’s face. He still couldn’t see a thing. It felt like Ochi hadn’t even moved. Combined with his overwhelming height and face hidden by bangs, an inexplicable pressure began to creep into Eishi’s heart.

”ACE! 40-0!”

”GAME! Court No. 2! 1-0!”

As expected, Ochi won the first game outright with Mach Serves. Akashi noticed the last serve had reached almost 260 kilometers, meaning Ochi was ramping up his speed.

Even though the second game wasn’t Ochi’s serve, his impossibly long legs let him chase down Eishi’s shots with ease. He returned everything cleanly and secured the second game, though it wasn’t as instantly decisive as the first.

”GAME! Court No. 2! 2-0!”

”GAME! Court No. 2! 3-0! Change courts!”

In the third game, Ochi finished it with four consecutive Mach Serves. During the changeover, Ochi pushed his bangs aside, revealing his eyes, and gave Eishi a single glance. Eishi visibly flinched as if something had struck him.

”So this is mental assassination? Interesting.” Akashi whispered, feeling the pressure emanating from Ochi’s spirit.

From then on, the match became a nightmare for Eishi. Each time he tried to serve or return, images of Ochi’s icy eyes flashed in his mind, throwing off his movements and causing mistake after mistake.

”GAME! 6-0! Match over! Winner: Court No. 2!”

With that, the shuffle match ended. The first-year players, along with Akashi, finally advanced to Court No. 1, officially becoming the second-string. Oh, and there was also one lucky third-year—but now, no one paid him any mind.

Everyone knew this revolution wasn’t over—no, it was only beginning. Becoming second-string was just the first step. Originally, Oni hadn’t wanted Akashi to get involved, but after seeing him unleash a Glowing Shot, he hadn’t objected further.

Time passed quickly. Two days had already gone by since Akashi’s group reached Court No. 1. That morning, the massive iron gates of the training camp slowly opened again, and a group of players wearing the Japan representative uniforms walked back into the camp.