Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 111: Chapter 111: Mizuki Hajime’s Miscalculation Again

At the temple behind the Echizen family home, Nanjirō was blowing on the toe that Karupin had just bitten when he noticed Ryōma trudging back, covered in dust, with a blank look in his eyes.

”Yo~ shōnen! Where’d you go to end up looking like such a mess?” Nanjirō asked in a mocking tone.

But Ryōma didn’t seem to hear him. He just walked straight into the house and went back to his room. Nanjirō stared at his son’s back for a long moment but didn’t say anything more.

It wasn’t until dinner that Nanjirō saw Ryōma again. But he still looked dazed, eating mechanically like a soul had left his body.

After Ryōma’s mom cleared the dishes, Nanako went to help with the washing. Only the Echizen father and son remained at the table. That’s when Ryōma finally opened his mouth:

”Old man, do you know what Muga no Kyōchi is? And Saiki Kanpatsu no Kiwami?”

Nanjirō’s face instantly turned serious. He stared at Ryōma and asked word by word:

”Shōnen! Where did you hear those names?”

”At the previous district tournament, a player from Fudomine used Saiki Kanpatsu,” Ryōma replied without hesitation.

”Oh? Kids these days really are something else. Compared to them, you’re way behind~ Hahaha!” Nanjirō never missed a chance to roast his own son.

”Cut the crap! You old fart! Just tell me what the hell Muga no Kyōchi is!” Ryōma was clearly triggered.

”Muga no Kyōchi, huh? I’ll answer that, but first, you tell me where you went today. Why’d you come home looking like roadkill?” Nanjirō didn’t answer right away and instead questioned Ryōma. As his father, he could tell something was off with his son.

Ryōma was quiet for a moment, then slowly explained what had happened:

”I went to Fudomine today. I heard from the senpai that they’re the current kings of the junior tennis world, so I went to challenge their captain. But...”

Nanjirō facepalmed. His idiot son had actually gone to challenge Akashi Seijurō. He’d already looked into Akashi’s background through Mifune after the whole Ryōga situation. No wonder Ryōma looked like a wreck when he got back.

He thought that after that phone call, Akashi wouldn’t bother Ryōga or Ryōma for now. But Ryōma actually went and poked the hornet’s nest himself. Luckily, Akashi clearly held back and didn’t destroy Ryōma’s tennis completely.

”As for Muga no Kyōchi, you’re too green right now. Don’t worry about it. Wait until you reach that state naturally. And that Fudomine captain—don’t mess with him again unless you’re on the same level,” Nanjirō said seriously.

”What’s the Muga state?” Ryōma asked quickly after hearing the new term.

”Shōnen~ Use your own brain a little. Don’t come running to me for everything. When the time’s right, you’ll understand it yourself~” Nanjirō slipped right back into his usual laid-back tone.

Basically, this whole conversation didn’t answer a single one of Ryōma’s questions. Instead, Nanjirō had extracted all the info he wanted from Ryōma without giving away anything. Just as he said—Ryōma was still way too naïve.

The next day at Seigaku’s tennis club, everyone noticed Ryōma was training even harder. It was obvious he wasn’t trying to avoid Inui Juice anymore—he genuinely wanted to get stronger as fast as possible.

While everyone focused on practice, the day of the Tokyo District Preliminary Tournament arrived. This year, Tokyo was putting extra effort into the tournament since the National Middle School Tennis Tournament would also be held here. That meant Tokyo would get an extra recommendation spot for Nationals.

On the day of the tournament, all the schools that had passed the qualifiers arrived at the tennis park. Fudomine’s team showed up early, completed check-in, and headed to their match court.

Fudomine’s first-round opponent was Akiyama Third Middle School. Akashi remembered facing them in the second round during their first year—didn’t expect to run into them this early this time.

Now, most of Fudomine’s second-stringers had already reached the Kanto level. Except for one or two, the rest had probably hit their limits. Without talent, it was almost impossible to break into national level.

Even so, Akiyama’s players couldn’t put up any fight—not even against Fudomine’s second-string. Their captain was only around Tokyo-level himself.

Fudomine’s second-string team crushed them cleanly with five 6-0 wins. The Akiyama players didn’t complain. They had expected this and packed up quietly to go home.

During lunch, the draw for the second round came out. Fudomine would face St. Rudolph. Looked like Mizuki Hajime was about to suffer again. Akashi decided to still use the second-string lineup but placed Kintarō in Singles Three as insurance.

What amused Akashi more was seeing that Seigaku and Hyōtei had drawn each other in Round Two. Come to think of it, the entire bracket looked exactly like the original storyline—only difference was that Fudomine had won the district championship, so the matchups had shifted.

Right now, Akashi couldn’t say for sure who would win between Seigaku and Hyōtei. Atobe and Fuji were about equal in strength, but Fuji had the potential to evolve mid-match. Then there was Ryōma—the wildcard. Akashi was certain that Ryōma would have a breakthrough during the match.

After the lunch break, all of Fudomine’s regulars except Akashi and Kintarō went to watch the Seigaku vs. Hyōtei match. Saint Rudolph wasn’t a strong team, and no one had any interest in watching a match that was already a guaranteed win.

At the match court, the Saint Rudolph players arrived. As soon as Mizuki Hajime saw that Fudomine had really sent out their second-stringers, just as he predicted, a confident smile spread across his face.

He was already imagining how shocking it would be when Saint Rudolph defeated the reigning two-time national champions at the Tokyo District Tournament—even if it was only their second-string lineup.

Still lost in his fantasy, Mizuki confidently walked up to Akashi. Standing in front of him, he smiled and said, ”Akashi-kun, long time no see. I didn’t expect Fudomine to send out the second-string this match. Looks like even you can be careless sometimes~”

”It really has been a while, Mizuki Hajime. You’re still just as blindly confident as ever. Let’s see if you can keep smiling later~” Akashi replied calmly.

Mizuki’s expression froze for a second, then he let out a cold snort and turned away, heading back to his team’s bench while twisting his hair and gritting his teeth. ”Akashi Seijurō! This time, I’ll make you pay for your arrogance!”

Doubles Two began soon after. Fudomine sent Fuji Yūta and Ishida Tetsu. Saint Rudolph fielded familiar faces—Yanagisawa Shinya and Kisarazu Atsushi.

Even though Mizuki’s predictions had been way off during their first-year match, most of the time since then, his match plans had been spot-on. So these two still trusted him completely.

”The Doubles Two match is about to begin. From Fudomine, we have Fuji Yūta and Ishida Tetsu. From Saint Rudolph, Yanagisawa Shinya and Kisarazu Atsushi. Will both teams please step onto the court!”

After the players greeted each other at the net, Yūta and Ishida immediately got a taste of Yanagisawa’s verbal taunting. He shouted:

”Just like Mizuki’s notes said—the little brother of Fuji Shūsuke and the bull-headed brute combo!”

Hearing that from the sideline, Akashi chuckled to himself. ’Right on the landmine, huh? Well, good luck with that, kid~’ He could already guess how this match was going to end.

”This time, Fudomine is gonna fall from their throne. We’re fully prepared, y’know!” Yanagisawa kept running his mouth.

Fuji Yūta’s face had already gone dark. Ishida Tetsu didn’t seem too bothered by the ”bull” nickname—if anything, he took it as a compliment to his strength.

Thankfully, the umpire cut off Yanagisawa’s nonsense and called for the coin toss. Fuji Yūta won and chose to serve first. Both sides returned to their baseline, ready to start.

”First game! Fudomine to serve!”

Yūta stood at the baseline, glaring sharply at Yanagisawa. On the other side, Yanagisawa suddenly had a bad feeling—but he didn’t think much of it.

Yūta tossed the ball up, then swung hard with his left hand. A loud, explosive crack echoed as the ball rocketed toward Yanagisawa with immense force.

”Big Bang Serve!”

Yanagisawa was surprised by the loud impact, but didn’t hesitate. He moved to return the serve. The moment his racket made contact, an enormous force shot through his arm. He couldn’t hold on—the racket flew from his hand, and the ball blasted it off court.

”Ace! 15-0!”

Mizuki’s eyes widened in shock. Yūta had never used this move in a public match before—and wasn’t that the signature technique of Kite Eishirō?

On the sideline, Akashi smiled with satisfaction. Yūta had sought advice from Kite to improve his game, and Kite, being on the same team, didn’t hold back. He’d personally taught Yūta the Big Bang Serve.

Fudomine’s second-string players often asked the regulars for advice, even though Akashi created all their training programs. For some reason, few ever came directly to him with questions.

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Ace! 40-0!”

”Game! Fudomine leads, 1-0!”

After that first point, Yūta didn’t let up—he hit three more Big Bang Serves in a row, all aimed directly at Yanagisawa. Now Yanagisawa looked completely wrecked.

He was getting frustrated. This move wasn’t in Mizuki’s notes at all. ’Did Mizuki mess up again? Why is it that every time we face Fudomine, his predictions fall apart?!’

Truthfully, Mizuki was even more upset. Fuji Yūta had clearly been hiding his strength, and he’d even managed to fool him. ’Figures. A Fudomine player—just as sneaky as the rest.’

Second game—Kisarazu’s service game. He served toward Ishida Tetsu, confident that with Ishida’s current posture, it’d be impossible for him to use the Hadoukyuu.

Sure enough, Ishida just returned with a normal forehand drive. But even that forced Yanagisawa to struggle. Even without the Hadoukyuu, Ishida’s raw power wasn’t something to take lightly.

Yūta returned with a half volley, sending a high lob to the backcourt. But without anyone noticing, Kisarazu had already moved up to the net. He jumped and made a smashing motion.

Seeing this, Ishida Tetsu and Yūta instinctively backed off several steps. Noticing this, Kisarazu twisted in midair and suddenly flipped a backhand short drop shot.

”Temporal Difference Hell!”

Just when Yanagisawa and Kisarazu thought they had the point, Yūta appeared at the net like he had teleported. With a quick flick of his racket, the ball shot between the two and out of bounds.

”0-15!”

That was Yūta’s new technique—Shukuchihō combined with a super half volley. It gave his defense and offense a major boost. Though he hadn’t yet mastered the full range of Shukuchihō like Kite, he had trained for over a year and could now manage decent front-and-back movement.

”No way! How can you move that fast? That’s not what Mizuki said at all!” Yanagisawa said in disbelief.

Yūta ignored him, turned, and returned to position, bending low to get ready. Seeing this, Yanagisawa had no choice but to shut up.

In truth, Yanagisawa and Kisarazu had trained specifically on how to seal Ishida Tetsu’s Hadoukyuu before the match. But Yūta’s performance had gone far beyond their expectations—his actual ability was completely mismatched from the data they had.

Against a Yūta who now had Shukuchihō and the super half volley, they had no answers. With Ishida Tetsu assisting, they started losing points fast.

”0-30!”

”0-40!”

”Game! Fudomine leads, 2-0!”

Third game—serve by Ishida Tetsu. Mizuki Hajime was shocked once again. As Ishida tossed the ball, the muscles in his right arm bulged—his arm looked twice as big. Then he slammed the serve down hard. Sparks flew as the ball smashed Kisarazu’s racket and sent it flying out of bounds!

”Hadoukyuu Serve!”

”15-0!”

That’s right. With Akashi’s refinements, Ishida Tetsu could now use a serve version of the Hadoukyuu. But because of the physical strain, Akashi strictly limited him to using it for only one game per match.

”30-0!”

”40-0!”

”Game! Fudomine leads, 3-0! Change courts!”

Even if he could only use it for one game, Ishida still didn’t hold back. He served four Hadoukyuu Serves in a row and cleanly secured the third game. At this point, Mizuki’s entire game plan was in shambles.

What made him angrier was that during the break, Yanagisawa and Kisarazu started questioning his strategy. They believed they couldn’t keep following his script and would need to rely on their own judgment instead.

When the fourth game began, the two started playing more freely. It gave them some momentum, but ultimately, the difference in strength showed. They couldn’t even win a single game. And whether it was real or not, Yanagisawa kept feeling like Yūta was personally targeting him.

”Game! Fudomine leads, 4-0!”

”Game! Fudomine leads, 5-0!”

Fifth game—Yūta’s serve again. He delivered another four Big Bang Serves, all aimed right at Yanagisawa. Yanagisawa was now convinced—Fuji Yūta was gunning for him. But why? He had no idea.

Sixth game—Kisarazu served. Though he was starting to feel hopeless, he still refused to give up. He sent a standard cross-court serve toward Ishida Tetsu.

Ishida quickly moved to intercept. Because the serve had decent speed, he didn’t have time to power up and could only return a regular forehand drive. That gave Yanagisawa and Kisarazu a bit of relief, and they focused all their attention on Yūta.

Kisarazu caught up to the ball and faked a straight shot. But at the last moment, he switched to a cross-court shot. He had figured out that Yūta couldn’t move sideways using Shukuchihō.

But he’d been so focused on Yūta that he forgot they had trained specifically for countering Ishida Tetsu’s Hadoukyuu. Now that he saw Ishida’s stance, it was already too late.

Ishida’s eyes lit up as the ball approached. He lowered his body, planted his feet, and concentrated all his strength in his right arm. His muscles bulged with power. Then he unleashed a ferocious forehand drive.

”Hadoukyuu No. 30!”

The ball exploded into a streak of lightning and flame, roaring toward the opponent’s court. Yanagisawa and Kisarazu had no choice but to face it head-on. They pressed their rackets together and met the Hadoukyuu with all their strength.

Next moment, both rackets flew high into the air. The ball, still unstoppable, smashed into the wire fence and actually broke the mesh. Fortunately, the ball got stuck in the gap and didn’t go straight through.

As everyone gasped at Ishida’s terrifying Hadoukyuu, a scream came from the court. Everyone turned to see Yanagisawa clutching his right wrist in pain, groaning nonstop. It was obvious that the last shot had injured his wrist.

The umpire had no choice but to pause the match and call for medical staff. After examination, it was confirmed—Yanagisawa’s wrist was sprained. Continuing was out of the question. The umpire declared the result.

”Due to injury to Saint Rudolph player Yanagisawa Shinya, the match is over. Score: 5-0! Winner: Fudomine!”