Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 102: Chapter 102: Everyone’s Getting Stronger

When the Kanto Regional Tournament began, Akashi still gave Fuji Yūta, Ibu Shinji, and Kamio Akira the chance to play in the first two rounds. It was good for building mental toughness and gaining match experience.

But once they made it to the semifinals, it was time for the full regular lineup. This year’s Kanto semifinalists were the same as last year—Fudomine, Rikkai, Hyōtei, and Seigaku.

Many spectators had already started calling these four schools the ”Kanto Big Four” in their minds. The rest of the Kanto region schools simply weren’t on the same level, not even Yamabuki or Rokkaku.

Fudomine’s semifinal opponent was Hyōtei. With the addition of new first-years, Hyōtei’s overall strength had actually gone up a bit—especially Kabaji. In the original timeline’s national tournament, if it hadn’t rained, even Tezuka might not have beaten him so easily.

The match started quickly. For Doubles Two, Hyōtei sent in the pair of Shishido Ryō and Ōtori Chōtarō, while Fudomine fielded Krauser and Kite Eishirō. Neither side used any special combinations.

Ōtori still opened with his signature ”One-Shot Soul,” but unfortunately, while that move might have had some effect in the original story, against today’s Kite and Krauser, it was no different from a regular serve.

Shishido, on the other hand, showed off impressive footwork. He barely kept up with Kite using his Super Half-Volley. Unfortunately, Krauser used Wirbel Taufe, knocking Shishido’s racket out of his hand again and again.

Kite didn’t use his Dark Side this time. After all, they’d trained together and been through U-17 camp. He wasn’t about to go that far. He just relied on Shukuchihō to defend.

Before long, Krauser and Kite had completely taken control of the match. The pressure got to Ōtori, who started double faulting repeatedly, speeding up their loss.

In the end, Shishido and Ōtori were completely crushed. Final score: 6-0. Atobe Keigo frowned unhappily from the sidelines. He had expected this result, but it still pissed him off.

For Doubles One, Hyōtei sent Oshitari Yūshi and Mukahi Gakuto, while Fudomine had Tachibana Kippei and Chitose Senri. Even Hyōtei’s own players didn’t expect much here—Tachibana and Chitose were already considered the No. 1 doubles pair in middle school.

Right as the match began, Oshitari shut down his emotions to minimize his presence. Mukahi focused on drawing fire at the net so Oshitari could land fatal blows. Watching them, Akashi was suddenly reminded of Kagami and Kuroko—maybe it was their hair color.

During the U-17 camp, Oshitari had reached national-level stats in the five categories, but overall, he was still behind Fuji’s old half-step national level.

The only surprise came in the final game, when Oshitari activated Muga no Kyōchi. Unfortunately, it was no use. Chitose was just one step away from unlocking Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami.

The final score was 6-1—Tachibana and Chitose had gone easy on them, but that only made Atobe more frustrated. Sadly, it looked like he wouldn’t be taking the court today.

For Singles Three, Fudomine didn’t send Akutsu Jin. Instead, they went with Tezuka. Hyōtei fielded Kabaji—whether by coincidence or not.

As usual, Tezuka ”gave up” his serve. From Kabaji’s build, it was obvious he was a power player. Tezuka countered with slicing techniques that neutralized the force of Kabaji’s shots and activated Tezuka Zone.

Kabaji had no way to counter the Zone. After losing two straight games, Atobe snapped his fingers, and it was like something inside Kabaji switched on—he suddenly awakened.

Everyone was shocked to see Kabaji using a Zone of his own to fight Tezuka head-on. Even Tezuka showed a flicker of surprise.

Not only that, Kabaji’s movements mimicked Tezuka’s perfectly, like he was a complete copy. Atobe smugly explained that this was all thanks to Kabaji’s ”childlike heart.”

But the moment didn’t last. Soon, everyone saw Kabaji’s Zone begin to warp and collapse. Tezuka remained unaffected. Come on—trying to spin the ball against Tezuka? Even players on Tezuka’s level couldn’t win like that, let alone a first-year like Kabaji.

Despite Kabaji’s attempts to imitate him, he couldn’t stop losing points. The whole thing left Kabaji more confused than ever. He just couldn’t understand why, even with a physical advantage and the same techniques, he was still losing.

This match went on for quite a while. Tezuka didn’t use any other moves besides the Zone—not even the Zero-Shiki Drop Shot. He wasn’t about to let Kabaji copy that.

When the match ended, the score was exactly what everyone expected: 6-0. It was a total defeat for Hyōtei, but that was only natural. Fudomine now was way stronger than it had been during the first-year arc. The gap between them and other schools had only grown.

On the other side, Rikkai easily beat Seigaku too. But the overall score was 3-2. In Doubles Two, Marui Bunta and Kuwahara Jackal lost to Oishi Shūichirō and Kikumaru Eiji.

Even though Marui and Jackal were individually stronger, they hadn’t fully mastered Synchronization yet. Facing Oishi and Kikumaru, who had entered perfect sync, they had no choice but to lose 6-3.

In Doubles One, the pair of Niō Masaharu and Yagyū Hiroshi made their debut. Yagyū had improved rapidly—probably thanks to his past in golf, which had made his physical abilities much stronger than the average person.

With Niō’s coordination, Seigaku’s power duo Kawamura Takashi and Momoshiro Takeshi got completely crushed, losing a brutal 6-0. And this was without Niō even using his Phantom.

Next in Singles Three, Seigaku sent Fuji Shūsuke while Rikkai’s player was Mōri Juuzaburō. Now in his third year, Mōri didn’t have much time left at Rikkai. After last year’s loss, his mindset had changed—at least he was no longer skipping training.

Fuji gave Mōri a huge surprise during this match. He evolved his fourth counter, the Kagerō Zutsumi, and gave it a brand-new name.

”Fourth Counter—Void Tranquility!”

When Mōri’s return collided with Fuji’s racket, all the power and spin in the ball vanished. As Fuji’s racket moved, the ball grew blurry, and just when Mōri tried to focus on it, Fuji hit it back and scored.

It seemed that Tanegashima’s Halt Destruction Nothingness had given Fuji a lot of inspiration. Now, the names of his six counters were split into two categories—the first three related to animals, and the last three tied to the effect of the techniques.

Mōri’s skill level was about the same as Fuji’s. They were both national-level and not far from the national peak. But Mōri’s biggest weakness was clear—he didn’t have any one-hit kill techniques.

Facing Fuji’s endless flow of techniques, Mōri gradually fell behind. When the match came to its final point, Mōri saw the ball flying in and jumped high, smashing it down with all his strength, already preparing to rush to the baseline.

But something shocking happened—Fuji didn’t prepare for the Kirin Otoshi stance. Instead, he dashed forward, leaped up at the net, and used the wind’s force to counter the smash with a smash of his own.

”Wind Technique—Aoi Fubuki!”

In the end, Fuji won Singles Three 6-3. Even Yukimura had to admit Fuji’s growth was incredible. It probably wouldn’t be long before Fuji reached the peak of the national level.

Thanks to Fuji’s win, Seigaku actually led Rikkai 2-1. For Singles Two, Yanagi Renji faced off against Inui Sadaharu. Both were masters of data tennis. After grueling U-17 training, Inui had finally reached the half-step national level, just one step away from full national level.

Unfortunately, Yanagi had already been national-level since last year. His data skills were even a bit ahead of Inui’s. On top of that, his Kamaitachi and Utsusemi weren’t simple techniques.

Despite giving it everything, Inui still lost the match. The score was 7-5. Whether or not Yanagi held back, only he would know.

For Singles One, Sanada Genichirō came out. Yukimura didn’t even plan to play. Seigaku sent out Kaidō Kaoru, clearly not planning to drag it out to Singles One. Sadly, Seigaku’s plan still failed.

Against Sanada’s national-level strength, Kaidō couldn’t even touch the ball and was completely shut out 6-0. On the sidelines, Kirihara Akaya cheered loudly for his vice-captain, shouting praises. Whether it was sincere or not... Kirihara definitely wasn’t going to admit he was trying to curry favor.

So, the Kanto Regional final would once again be Fudomine versus Rikkai. But this time, as Yukimura said, Rikkai was now the challenger. They were going after Fudomine’s crown.

On the day of the final, a ton of big-name tennis media outlets showed up. There were even spectators from other regions. This match might be a preview of this year’s national finals.

Both teams had made some changes to their lineups. For Doubles Two, Rikkai sent Niō and Yanagi. Fudomine’s team was Tezuka and Krauser. Thanks to Akashi’s advice, Tezuka and Krauser had built some chemistry recently. It also helped awaken their ability synchronization.

As the match started, Niō did something that shocked everyone. He moved to the net, and his form grew blurry. The next moment, Ōmaki Ryūji’s figure appeared before them. Yanagi tossed his racket to the ”Ōmaki” in front.

Looks like Niō planned to mimic Ōmaki Ryūji and use two rackets to buy Yanagi time to gather data. Even Akashi had to admire Niō’s absurd imagination.

It was the first time Kirihara had seen Niō’s Illusion in action. He was completely stunned, rubbing his eyes nonstop, convinced he was hallucinating. But no matter how he looked, the person on court looked nothing like his senpai.

Some of the spectators seeing Niō’s move for the first time reacted just like Kirihara—completely stunned. But the seasoned audience members who had watched last year’s Kanto Tournament were already used to it.

Even though Niō transformed into Ōmaki Ryūji, his overall strength was still a bit lower and couldn’t replicate Ōmaki’s airtight defense. Still, he managed to buy Yanagi some time.

Once Yanagi began to act, Niō turned into Inui Sadaharu, teaming up with Yanagi to launch a data assault. But on the other side, Krauser couldn’t hold back and activated Wirbel Taufe, and even Tezuka activated Hyaku Ren Jitoku no Kiwami. Almost immediately, ”Inui” and Yanagi’s rackets were knocked out of their hands multiple times.

Watching Fudomine rack up points, Niō finally decided to risk everything. Even if the chances were close to zero, he had to try—this was his last shot.

As Niō’s form blurred again, the image of Inui vanished. In his place appeared Tanegashima Shūji. Akashi chuckled softly at the sight.

”So he’s trying to counter Wirbel Taufe with Halt Destruction Nothingness? If it were the real Tanegashima, maybe. But Niō trying to replicate Tanegashima’s talent with an Illusion? That’s wishful thinking~”

Just as Akashi predicted, even with the transformation, Niō’s racket was sent flying by Wirbel Taufe. Halt Destruction Nothingness was a unique innate talent. Even with mental force support, it couldn’t be imitated. He would’ve been better off trying to mimic Fuji’s new technique.

In the end, Rikkai lost Doubles Two in a total blowout to Tezuka and Krauser, 6-0. Doubles One was even worse—Marui and Jackal were no match for Tachibana Kippei and Chitose Senri, who also finished the match 6-0.

This time, Tachibana and Chitose went all out right from the start, making Marui and Jackal suffer. Last year’s loss had left a deep impression, and they weren’t about to let that happen again.

Singles Three, however, was a real showdown. The players were Sanada Genichirō and Akutsu Jin. As soon as the match began, Sanada activated the full Swift as the Wind, Silent as the Forest, Fierce as Fire, Immovable as a Mountain, Unknowable as Shadow, and Moving Like Thunder mode. He was already used to keeping up the ”Unknowable as Shadow” phase throughout the match, and had gradually discovered the hidden power it held.

But with his current strength, Sanada couldn’t fully control it. After Akutsu lost a few points to ”Moving Like Thunder,” he didn’t hesitate and launched the Glowing Shot.

Everyone thought Sanada wouldn’t be able to return it. But then, to their shock, he countered it with a move just as powerful, sending Akutsu’s Glowing Shot right back.

”Don’t think you can beat me with the Glowing Shot, Akutsu! Here’s my response—Lightning Strike!”

Seeing the move, Akashi immediately recalled the final point of Sanada’s match against Tezuka during last year’s national tournament. So that was the moment Sanada had touched the prototype of the Lightning Strike.

Akutsu’s eyes lit up when he saw Sanada unleash Lightning Strike. The two launched into an all-out clash of super sweet spot techniques. Dust and debris flew across the court. Clearly, the event organizers were aware of Akutsu’s Glowing Shot—they’d already raised the spectator seating.

So even as pieces of the wall behind Sanada and Akutsu were blasted apart, the audience was unaffected—though they could no longer see what was actually happening in the match.

All the first-years from the top four schools were completely stunned. This wasn’t the tennis they knew. The other players, meanwhile, felt like they were watching a world championship match.

Just as the organizers were about to step in and stop the game, the match reached its conclusion. Akutsu won. He had just made up his mind that if it dragged on, he would enter Shura Path—but Sanada couldn’t hold out long enough.

Singles Three ended with a 6-3 win for Akutsu. At least Sanada had saved Rikkai a shred of dignity, avoiding a complete sweep.

It wasn’t until the match ended that the first-years and newcomers in the audience finally snapped out of their shock. For the average Japanese spectator, this was the first glimpse into what the real world of tennis looked like.

After the awards ceremony, Akashi looked at Sanada and, for the first time, thought that maybe Sanada’s future wasn’t far behind Tezuka or Yukimura. Especially once his ”Unknowable as Shadow” evolved into a black aura—his power would jump to a whole new level.

Once the Kanto Tournament ended, the junior high players returned to the U-17 training camp to continue developing their skills. Akashi organized another training camp—this time focused on helping the first-years grow faster. The gap between them and the second-years was just too wide.

After collecting data and assigning appropriate training plans, Akashi boarded a private jet to Canada. He still had to compete in the U-17 overseas expedition tournament. This time, Sanada had laid down strict orders—they had to go undefeated in every expedition match this year.