Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 145: Chapter 145: Kevin Smith’s Despair

After the match, Arnold walked over to the coach’s bench, head down, and said to Richard, ”Sorry, boss! I couldn’t win this match. The opponent was just too strong!”

”It doesn’t matter~ My team doesn’t need garbage like you anymore. Go back to that pathetic life of yours,” Richard replied coldly, standing up and leaving immediately.

Arnold stood frozen in place, stunned that Richard had actually abandoned him just for losing this one match.

But soon, he came to terms with it. Yeah... losing meant nothing else mattered. His dream of reaching the top of the tennis world was now shattered.

In the stands, a few sponsors were shaking their heads. They’d assumed American players were strong, but they couldn’t even beat a single player from the Kanto region of the Japan Team. And the gap in strength was obvious.

Those Japan Team players were clearly backed by the Akashi Corporation. There was no room for other sponsors, so most of them got ready to leave—except for one woman, who glanced thoughtfully at Richard disappearing down the player’s tunnel.

Inside the locker room, Richard furiously smashed a cup on the ground. His entire plan for this trip to Japan had been thrown into chaos. Four matches played and not a single win. He had become a laughingstock.

”Damn it! All of you are trash! You couldn’t even beat one Kanto-level player from Japan, and after I gave you so many resources to train!” he shouted angrily.

Just then, someone knocked on the locker room door. Richard quickly picked up the cup, tidied himself up, and walked over to open it.

Standing outside was a woman. Richard vaguely recognized her—one of the sponsors who’d attended today. He immediately invited her in.

”Hello, Mr. Richard. I’m Takayama Minako, the operations manager at Toransk Poraisen. Our company plans to enter the U.S. market next year, and we’re looking for tennis players to endorse our brand,” she said directly.

”Oh? So you’re interested in sponsoring my team?” Richard’s eyes lit up.

”That depends on how our discussion goes,” Takayama-san replied with a meaningful smile.

”Of course! Of course! Today’s most important match is the singles match. The others were just warm-ups, nothing more than pre-show entertainment. I’ve already prepared the perfect script,” Richard said with a mysterious expression.

”Is that so? Then I’d like to hear the full details,” Takayama-san said with interest.

Richard then explained the grudge between Kevin and Ryōma, adding that for the sake of pleasing gossip-hungry fans, the Japan Team would definitely send Ryōma to play in the final singles match.

”I understand the situation. But I have one condition,” Takayama-san said slowly.

”Please go ahead,” Richard said with a confident smile.

”I want you to terminate the contracts with all your players. Then have them sign with our company instead,” Takayama-san finally revealed her real goal.

”W-What?! You must be joking, Takayama-san!” Richard stared at her in disbelief.

”As far as I know, you signed a bet agreement with the Akashi Corporation, didn’t you? Your American team has already lost, and you absolutely can’t afford that compensation with your own resources. Only our company can save you now,” she said calmly.

”How... how do you know about that?” Richard looked like he’d been drained of all strength, his face filled with despair.

Ten minutes later, Takayama-san quietly left the locker room. After walking a short distance, she took out her phone, dialed a number, and said, ”It’s all taken care of, Atobe-sama.”

In the VIP box, Atobe casually set down his phone. Akashi watched him and said calmly, ”Judging by your face, you handled it already?”

”Of course! There’s nothing this ore-sama can’t handle,” Atobe replied leisurely, resting his chin on his hand.

”Those guys’ talents are nothing special. Was it really worth your time?” Akashi asked with a hint of disdain.

”You just have high standards. But I’m guessing your Akashi Corporation already gathered some dirt on Richard, didn’t you?” Atobe said, throwing him a look.

”Hahaha! Atobe-kun, you really are sharp,” Akashi’s father laughed heartily.

Meanwhile, on the court, Kawamura Aoi and Sakaki Tarō were discussing who to send out for the singles match. They were already aware of the tension between Ryōma and Kevin. In the end, after some thought, Sakaki decided to stick with the original plan and keep Ryōma as a substitute.

Although Ryōma had performed well in the Kanto tournament against Hyōtei, since Kevin had been assigned to the singles match and was bold enough to challenge Ryōma openly, he clearly wasn’t just talk. Sending Yukimura would be the safer choice.

The match had come this far—they didn’t want to mess up at the last moment. Everyone knew Yukimura’s strength easily ranked top three among middle schoolers, second only to Akashi.

Time passed quickly. The announcer stepped onto the court again to introduce the players for the final match. First up was Yukimura Seiichi of the Kanto representative team.

As Yukimura slowly walked to the court with his jacket on, girls from both the Japan and American sides of the stands screamed. His beauty was on par with anyone.

Yukimura Seiichi.

Next, the announcer introduced Kevin Smith from the West Coast U.S. team. Though Kevin wasn’t bad-looking, he paled in comparison to Yukimura.

Kevin walked out of the player tunnel with a dark expression. He’d thought he’d be facing Echizen Ryōma, but instead, they sent someone he’d never even heard of. It felt like a complete insult.

At the coach’s bench, Richard looked like he’d lost the will to live. If he could’ve left early, he wouldn’t have bothered returning to watch this last match.

The two players arrived at the baseline, waiting for the umpire to call the start. One wore a jacket, the other sunglasses—neither looked like they were about to play a serious match.

”Up next is the singles match! Representing the Kanto team: Yukimura Seiichi. Representing the West Coast U.S. team: Kevin Smith. Players, please enter the court!”

Both stepped onto the court. Yukimura still wore his calm, faint smile. Kevin, on the other hand, looked like someone owed him millions.

At the net, Yukimura reached out his right hand politely, but Kevin ignored it and snapped, ”The one I want to beat is Echizen Ryōma, not play some boring match with you. You better switch him in now, or I might accidentally crush you.”

”Crush me? It’s been a long time since someone’s said that to me~ Well then, I hope you really can do it, Kevin-kun,” Yukimura replied with an unchanged smile, clearly unbothered.

”No need for a coin toss. Let him serve. Let’s start the match already~” Yukimura turned and said to the umpire, then walked calmly back to his baseline. The moment he turned, the smile on his face vanished.

Yukimura’s serious expression.

The umpire didn’t comment. After all, this was just an exhibition match. No need to be strict with the rules.

”One-game match! West Coast U.S. team to serve first!”

Yukimura’s attitude had clearly pissed Kevin off. He’d originally planned to go easy, but now he was set on demolishing the guy—especially annoyed by that jacket Yukimura wore.

Honestly, Akashi had set a bad precedent. Playing tennis in a jacket was a direct provocation. Only Akashi and Yukimura had the strength to pull that off—anyone else would’ve gotten wrecked long ago.

Kevin stood at the baseline, racquet in his left hand, staring at Yukimura with a glint in his eyes. He tossed the ball high with his right hand, then arched his back and leaped up, swinging the racquet upward and adding a sharp spin at the moment of contact.

”Topspin serve!”

The spinning ball shot over the net toward Yukimura’s baseline. But Yukimura had already moved to the spot, saying calmly, ”A left-handed topspin serve is no threat to a right-handed player. Don’t you even know that?”

With that, Yukimura swung his racquet. The ball flew across the net at incredible speed, landing at Kevin’s feet before he could even react and bouncing out of bounds.

”0-15!”

”You...!” Kevin was momentarily speechless, but his face turned even darker.

Not convinced, Kevin served another topspin ball. But it still had no effect. Yukimura’s return came back even faster than expected. Though Kevin barely managed to reach it, the ball soared high.

Yukimura instantly appeared at the net, jumped, and smashed it down hard. Kevin could only watch a streak of yellow zip past him before the ball landed with a thud.

”0-30!”

”Hmph! So you’ve got some skill. Fine. I’ll crush you first, then go after Echizen Ryōma!” Kevin growled. Though still running his mouth, his face had clearly turned grim.

He served again, this time avoiding the topspin. The serve was a well-placed crosscourt.

Yukimura casually moved a few steps to the spot and countered with a backhand drive. The ball zipped into the far court. This time, Kevin stayed focused, caught up with the ball, and hit a forehand drive in return.

The two quickly exchanged rallies, but after only a few hits, Kevin showed an opening. Yukimura seized the chance and blasted a sharp cross-court shot to take the point.

”0-40!”

Kevin no longer dared to underestimate his opponent. Yukimura’s strength clearly exceeded expectations. He now had to focus completely—one mistake and he could lose this match.

After serving, Kevin rushed the net with a smooth serve-and-volley. Yukimura casually returned the ball, but paused slightly when he saw Kevin’s approach.

Kevin suddenly crouched mid-run, using momentum to slide forward. Reaching the net, he leapt high and swung hard toward the incoming ball.

”Drive B!”

Yukimura instantly reacted, darting forward. He jumped and smashed the ball just as it dropped. It exploded like a beam of light at Kevin’s feet and flew out of bounds—Kevin hadn’t even landed yet.

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 1-0!”

”Flashy tricks are easier to counter. And compared to Echizen, you’re way too weak~” Yukimura said calmly after winning the first game, clearly taunting Kevin.

”What did you say, you bastard?!” Kevin snapped, visibly rattled. The mention of Echizen Ryōma hit a nerve.

Yukimura ignored him, walked to the baseline, and got into position to serve. Kevin reluctantly headed to the backcourt, glancing at the umpire’s warning gaze.

This was Yukimura’s service game. He stood at the baseline, tossed the ball up, and slammed a high-speed serve that streaked into the far corner.

Still fuming from Yukimura’s words, Kevin wasn’t paying attention. By the time he realized, the ball had already landed in the corner and bounced out.

”Ace! 15-0!”

”You need to stay focused during a match. That’s the most basic rule for a tennis player,” Yukimura said coolly, not missing a beat.

Before Kevin could reply, Yukimura tossed the next ball and unleashed another fast serve, this time to the opposite corner.

Kevin swallowed his retort and sprinted to the edge. He just barely reached the ball before it bounced out, but his rushed backhand lacked power.

Yukimura quickly closed in, then struck a hard drive toward Kevin’s left baseline. The ball shot like a blur, slammed into the corner, and bounced out. Kevin didn’t even have time to turn.

”30-0!”

Back at the baseline, Yukimura served again—still fast and unremarkably steady. Kevin finally reached the spot just in time and returned it. But Yukimura responded effortlessly, like he was taking a stroll in the park.

That calm presence alone created huge pressure, nearly crushing Kevin’s confidence. But then he remembered the special move he’d developed to beat Echizen Ryōma.

Without hesitation, Kevin charged the ball. At the hitting point, he gripped his racquet with both hands and swung hard from the left, using the frame to strike the ball.

Illusion strike animation.

The ball flew over the net, then began to tremble in mid-air—suddenly splitting into three shadowy images flying toward Yukimura. At a glance, it resembled a watered-down version of Abare Dama.

Technique effect.

”Illusion Strike!”

Yukimura simply glanced at it, then ran to one of the shadows and swung his racquet, calmly saying, ”A tennis ball doesn’t clone itself. There’s only ever one. These visual tricks are just childish.”

As Yukimura spoke, the other two images vanished. His return shot flew back at incredible speed, and before Kevin could react, the ball bounced out again.

”40-0!”

”No way! My secret move... got countered that easily?!” Kevin looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Even the other American players watching near the tunnel couldn’t believe it—especially Billy Cassidy, since he had helped Kevin create that technique.

”Nothing’s impossible. You just can’t accept it because you’re too weak~” Yukimura said indifferently, giving Kevin one glance before walking back to the baseline.

Kevin stared at the jacketed figure across from him. For the first time, he doubted his own tennis. But his obsession with beating Ryōma overpowered those doubts—for now.

Yukimura served a fourth time. Kevin returned it, still not giving up. Seeing Yukimura return the shot again, Kevin used Illusion Strike once more. Yukimura calmly swung at one of the shadows with a backhand drive.

The ball Yukimura struck shot out as a golden blur, brushing past Kevin and hitting the baseline before flying out. Kevin was still frozen mid-swing in his Illusion Strike pose.

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 2-0!”

It was Kevin’s turn to serve in the third game. Standing at the baseline, sweat was already pouring down his forehead. This opponent named Yukimura was giving him overwhelming pressure—it felt like no matter what he did, Yukimura could effortlessly return it.

Under that pressure, Kevin suddenly and without warning entered the Muga no Kyōchi. A milky-white aura rose from him as his eyes turned hollow.

Yukimura watched with interest. He hadn’t expected Kevin to awaken Muga from pressure alone. But so what? Even Hyakuren Jitoku no Kiwami wouldn’t mean much against him.

Kevin tossed the ball high and swung fast. The power of Muga amplified his wrist, giving the serve intense spin. The ball flew over the net and landed near Yukimura’s frontcourt.

Yukimura quickly moved into position. After bouncing, the ball began spinning wildly, then skidded low and fast.

”Tannhauser Serve!”

”The bounce height’s too high. Not qualified,” Yukimura commented as he flicked the ball up with a calm swing, sending it flying back across the net.

But the next second, lightning sparked from Kevin’s body. He used shunpō to appear in front of the ball and slammed his racquet down hard.

”Lighning Strike!”

”The flight path is too simple. Power doesn’t even reach 30% of Sanada’s. Not qualified.” Yukimura effortlessly returned the Lighning Strike, and before Kevin could react, the ball had already bounced out.

”0-15!”

Staying in the Muga state, Kevin used Billy’s Whip Serve next. The ball curved inward toward Yukimura’s backcourt.

”The curve is too shallow. Not qualified,” Yukimura said flatly as he sent the ball back again.

Kevin tried move after move through the Muga, using different techniques—but Yukimura countered each one easily while dishing out calm, ruthless critiques. Even in the Muga state, Kevin felt like his mind was breaking.

”0-30!”

”0-40!”

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 3-0! Break!”

”How long do you plan to keep this up? Muga only wastes your stamina for nothing~” Yukimura’s emotionless voice pierced Kevin’s thoughts.

At the bench, Kevin was gasping for air, his shirt soaked in sweat. He gulped down sports drinks as fast as he could. Richard said nothing—he had long since stopped caring about the outcome.

Across the court, the Kantō team’s coach Sakaki Tarō was overseeing the match in person. Though with Yukimura on court, he had little to worry about.

”How long do you plan on toying with him, Yukimura-kun?” Sakaki asked quietly, watching the match.

”Hmm? Seems Sakaki-san’s getting impatient. Alright~ I suppose it’s time to wrap this up.” Yukimura smiled faintly in reply.

The break ended quickly. As Yukimura stepped onto the court again, his spiritual pressure surged dramatically. A wave of mental force swept toward Kevin like a crashing tide.

Suddenly, Kevin froze in place. Yukimura served calmly, but Kevin stood motionless like he didn’t even see the ball.

”Ace! 15-0!”

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Ace! 40-0!”

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 4-0!”

Yukimura scored the fourth game with four clean aces. Kevin never moved. Then, finally, Kevin began to stir—but it looked completely bizarre.

With a delighted grin on his face, he started mimicking various tennis moves, babbling things like, ”I finally found you, Echizen Ryōma!”

Even the umpire was dumbfounded. After repeated warnings and no response, he had no choice but to call a serve time violation.

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 5-0!”

In the sixth and final game, Kevin’s condition didn’t improve. Yukimura didn’t waste time—he landed four simple high-speed serves and claimed the victory.

”Game! 6-0! Match over! Winner: Yukimura Seiichi!”

As the umpire declared the end, Kevin still wore a triumphant grin. But the next moment, his inner world shattered—and standing across from him was that figure in the fluttering jacket.

”Looks like you had a sweet dream about beating Echizen Ryōma~” Yukimura said with a soft smile, his coat rippling in the breeze.