Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 146: Chapter 146: The Regulars’ Power Growth

After Yukimura withdrew his mental pressure, Kevin looked around in confusion. He couldn’t process what had just happened. Wasn’t Yukimura supposed to be unable to continue the match due to personal reasons? Wasn’t Ryōma supposed to have taken over?

And he clearly remembered defeating Ryōma with overwhelming strength. So why did it feel like nothing had changed? Could everything just now have been an illusion? Kevin couldn’t understand.

But honestly, it wasn’t surprising Kevin didn’t get it. Yukimura’s Five-Sense Nullification and dream illusion weren’t exactly techniques—they were more like his playing style. Simply put, they were passive skills.

If you had to call it something, it would be yips. In essence, Yukimura maintained a flawless appearance, using perfect tennis to crush the opponent’s confidence and plunge them into a yips state.

Both the Five-Sense Nullification and dream illusion were derivative abilities of Yukimura’s yips. If the opponent’s confidence couldn’t be broken, he could supplement it with mental force to reach the same effect.

In fact, by using a massive amount of mental force, he could forcibly push an opponent into a yips state. But that wasn’t easy for Yukimura—it consumed a huge amount of mental energy.

If he ran into someone whose mental force surpassed his own, the effect would rebound—like what happened with Akashi. But Kevin’s confidence had already been shattered by Yukimura and was then guided by his mental force, naturally pulling him deep into the dream Yukimura had constructed.

At this point, Yukimura had already reached a level where just a single rally could drag an opponent into the yips. Sometimes, he didn’t even need to hit a ball—just a psychological suggestion was enough. That’s why Sakaki Tarō was right: Yukimura hadn’t been serious at all for the first three games. He was just playing around.

It was the same with the match against Kintarō. He didn’t immediately take away Kintarō’s senses, instead drawing out his full power first. Only after he was satisfied did he let Kintarō explode into Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami within that world of lost senses.

This was the unique playing style of the Child of God, Yukimura Seiichi. Besides Akashi, who was essentially his natural counter, no one else—not even Tezuka without activating Ten’i—could break free from Yukimura’s yips in a short time.

Kevin finally came to his senses and stared at Yukimura in shock. ’Just playing tennis... and it makes people hallucinate? Is Echizen Nanjirō’s homeland really this terrifying?’

Soon, the announcer stepped up to declare the end of the exhibition match between Japan and the U.S. West Coast team. The audience was thrilled—after all, their own team had completely crushed the Americans, which left them feeling quite satisfied.

And as a result, the reputation of American tennis plummeted in the eyes of the Japanese. If Reinhardt found out, he’d probably strangle Richard himself.

Right after the match, Akashi’s agency manager approached Richard to demand he honor the betting agreement and pay the full amount. Though Richard was unwilling, this was Japan—Akashi’s turf. If he didn’t comply, he might never make it back to the U.S.

Out of options, Richard contacted Ms. Takayama again. When she assured him the contract transfer funds would be sent, he wired all his savings to Akashi’s group’s account.

But just days after making the payment, Richard was indicted by authorities for fraud and illegal fundraising. He was deported back to the U.S. for trial, and the so-called contract transfer fee promised by Ms. Takayama never showed up.

With Richard now deported and facing multiple charges, all the contracts he’d previously signed were rendered void. Akashi and Atobe’s corporations had teamed up and completely ruined him—such was the cruelty of the business world.

In fact, most of the sponsors present at the match were subsidiaries of the Atobe Group. Both groups used this exhibition as a massive promotional campaign.

Meanwhile, Richard had been kept in the dark from start to finish. Even the Tennis Association’s shadow could be seen in all this. The three sides worked seamlessly to lure Richard right into the trap they’d laid ahead of time.

Also, since Ryōma never actually played Kevin, the two never resolved their conflict or became friends. But Kevin didn’t dare go after Ryōma again either.

In the original story, three major events were supposed to happen around this time, two of which involved Seigaku: Tezuka going to Germany for treatment, Ryōma competing in the U.S., and Yukimura undergoing a hellish rehab. But due to Akashi’s involvement, none of them happened.

Everyone returned to Akashi’s training camp to resume their daily practice in preparation for the upcoming National Tournament. For many of them, this would be their final shot at nationals.

At the same time, over at the U-17 training camp, Tokugawa was growing rapidly under the guidance of Oni and Irie. Right now, all of Tokugawa’s focus was on defeating Byoudouin.

Tokugawa Kazuya.

”Oni! Are you sure Tokugawa’s going to be okay at this pace? You know Byoudouin isn’t someone you can just beat with hard work!” Irie glanced at the intensely training Tokugawa and asked Oni with concern.

”Honestly, I don’t know either. But this is Tokugawa’s conviction. He’s putting everything into it. All we can do is support him, right?” Oni sighed slightly.

”Ah~ The middle schoolers will be arriving at the training camp soon. Once they do, Tokugawa might not even get the chance to challenge Byoudouin. Don’t forget that Akashi-kun will be there too. With his personality, there’s no way he’d let the current Byoudouin off the hook!” Irie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, as if remembering something amusing.

”The match between those two is inevitable. I’m sure the coaches have already prepared for it,” Oni said seriously.

”Then tell me, Oni, who do you think has the better chance of winning—Akashi-kun or Byoudouin?” Irie asked with a smile.

”It’s hard to say. That kid Akashi’s dimensional space gives me a really strange feeling—different from both mine and Byoudouin’s. So I can’t really judge. But personally, I lean more toward Akashi-kun,” Oni answered after thinking for a moment.

”But your dimensional space can’t be weak either, right? Don’t you have any thoughts of your own?” Oni suddenly shifted the topic and looked at Irie.

”Oni, what are you talking about~? I’m weak, remember? What thoughts could I possibly have? Besides, I haven’t awakened any dimensional space,” Irie replied quickly with a big grin.

Oni gave Irie a helpless glance. He had accidentally sensed a flicker of dimensional energy from Irie before. He was sure he hadn’t misjudged, but Irie just kept denying it no matter what.

Elsewhere in the training camp, Tanegashima was experiencing the most painful period of his life. Akashi had somehow gotten hold of a flight simulator pod, and now the coaches were forcing Tanegashima to spend an hour in it every day.

At first, Tanegashima puked like crazy—no medicine could help. But now it was getting a little better. At least taking the meds beforehand prevented a severe reaction.

At this moment, Tanegashima was inside the simulator, his eyes spinning as he shouted loudly, ”Akashi-chan! I hate you! ξжrФe... (retching)!”

Back at the training base, Akashi suddenly sneezed. The butler beside him thought his young master had caught a chill and immediately brewed a bowl of ginger tea and handed it over. Akashi didn’t feel unwell, but he drank it anyway—considering it a good way to ward off dampness.

Inside the U-17 camp’s surveillance room, the three coaches frowned at the monitor. All of the first-string members except Tanegashima had gone on overseas expeditions, and among this year’s new first-years, there wasn’t a single standout.

That’s right—you read that correctly. Oni and Irie were no longer part of the first string. Irie’s situation was easy to understand—classic drama. He lost to Akiba Kōyō in the earlier first-string shuffle match and gave up his No. 20 spot.

As for Oni, he had stepped in to take a hit from Byoudouin meant for Tokugawa, so he was temporarily removed from the first string. Of course, everyone knew that if Oni wanted to return, he could do so anytime.

But Oni wasn’t in a hurry to go back. He was now guarding Court No. 5, acting as the gatekeeper of hell, and hoping to discover a few promising rookies among this year’s first-years. If another Akashi appeared, then Japan’s chances at the World Cup would be solid.

The idea was nice, but reality was cruel. Besides Mōri, only Hara Tetsuya showed some potential. The rest were a disaster. And even Mōri and Hara had already spent some time in the training camp back in their first year.

That was exactly what was troubling the coaches. Once Byoudouin’s generation graduated, they’d have to rely on Akashi’s group. But among the second- and first-years, true talent was extremely rare.

They couldn’t figure out why things had turned out this way. Were geniuses choosing their birth years? The gap between Byoudouin and Akashi’s cohorts looked like a complete void, with only a few students showing passable talent.

If the coaches knew more about the middle school scene, they’d realize it was the same situation there too. The top players were all third-years. The second-years barely had any elite players. Among the first-years, only Kintarō stood out, while Ryōma was still lagging behind.

Also, due to Mifune’s orders, U-17 camp had banned all discussion about middle schoolers—especially Akashi. He’d issued a strict gag order on anyone in the know. Of course, there were still the occasional whispers, but most of the first-year players and even Tokugawa had no idea Akashi existed.

On the other hand, U-17 also didn’t know about Kintarō’s existence—but that would change soon. For this year’s middle school national tournament, U-17 was sending people to observe the event, so they could prepare before the middle schoolers officially joined the training camp.

Time passed quickly, and the middle school training camp was nearing its end. Akashi stood looking over the entire training estate with a faint sense of nostalgia. This was probably the last time he’d host a training camp like this. From now on, everything would happen at the U-17 facility.

Of course, this estate would remain. Ibu and the others might still need it next year. But from now on, any other schools that wanted to use it would have to pay a fee—Akashi thought silently.

One week before the start of the national tournament, the training camp reached its final day. Many of the players had made some progress during this time—even Akashi, although his gains were minimal.

Since the tournament draw would be held the next day, representatives from several schools planned to ride Fudomine’s bus together to Fudomine Middle School. Everyone else packed their things and returned to their respective schools.

The next day, at the gate of Fudomine Middle School, school representatives from all over the country began arriving one after another. As the reigning national champions for two years running, Fudomine’s status had risen dramatically.

The students at Fudomine were already used to the scene and weren’t as nervous or excited as they were last year. It was the first-years who were now going around asking questions everywhere.

Just then, a large bus with ”Fudomine” printed on it slowly rolled into the school and stopped at the entrance to the meeting hall. Seven schools’ representatives stepped off the bus.

As the group walked into the conference hall, the once-busy room suddenly went quiet. Many school representatives turned toward the doorway, most of their eyes falling on Akashi.

Akashi looked around and saw several familiar faces. There were the veteran schools like Makinofuji, Shishigaku, Rokurikyū, and Kabuto—no surprises there.

Among the crowd, Akashi even spotted Kai Yūjirō, standing beside Chinen Hiroshi. He hadn’t expected Higa Middle School to qualify for the national tournament without Kite Eishirō, yet here they were.

After asking around, Akashi found out that Higa hadn’t beaten Shishigaku to become Kyushu’s regional champion, but they had taken second place. Word was that Kai Yūjirō performed exceptionally well during the regional tournament.

Also worth noting was that St. Rudolph had indeed been admitted to the nationals via a recommendation slot. Mizuki Hajime sat with Akazawa Yoshiro in a corner, still twirling his hair and glancing around at everyone like always.

Because Akashi’s reputation had already spread across the country, this year’s draw ceremony went surprisingly smoothly. Not a single fool jumped out to provoke him.

Even that rapper-looking guy from Rokurikyū sat quietly in his seat. In the original timeline, that guy had the guts to try and trip Tezuka.

Before long, the national tournament bracket was revealed. Akashi took a glance. The seeded schools were mostly the same as last year: Fudomine, Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku, Seigaku, Hyōtei, Shishigaku, Makinofuji, Shitenhōji, and Nagoya.

Akashi didn’t really care why Makinofuji was still seeded. Honestly, they might not even make top eight this year.

Higa once again got matched up against Rokkaku in the first round. Without Kite, Akashi wasn’t sure they could win. Still, Rokkaku’s chances didn’t look too great either.

What Akashi really cared about was whether Seigaku would face Hyōtei in the quarterfinals. And to his surprise, that didn’t happen. Instead, Hyōtei would be facing Shitenhōji in the quarterfinals.

He couldn’t tell if it was Atobe’s bad luck or Shiraishi’s. Akashi also noticed that if everything went according to plan, Fudomine would face Rikkai in the semifinals. That wasn’t what he expected.

He had assumed, just like the original story, that they’d meet Rikkai in the finals. After studying the entire bracket more closely, he concluded that their final opponent this year would either be Seigaku, Hyōtei, or Shitenhōji.

’Could it really be Seigaku in the final?’ Akashi thought to himself.

After the draw ceremony ended, everyone returned to their schools for final preparations. During that time, for some reason, Akutsu suddenly challenged Akashi to a match.

The outcome, of course, was an overwhelming defeat. His Eighth Consciousness was completely nullified by the Emperor Eye. But Akutsu’s challenge triggered a chain reaction—soon, every regular at Fudomine challenged Akashi to a match.

For a whole week, they had one match every day. The Fudomine players were hyped, watching each game with enthusiasm. The result? Akashi won every match, and four courts ended up heavily damaged.

Fortunately, no one got hurt. The moment a powerful move appeared, the spectators scattered like birds.

Still, the matches gave Akashi a clearer view of each regular’s current level. Akutsu and Kintarō had both made major progress. Kintarō was just shy of top national level, and with the activation of Light of Love, he was already half a step into world-class.

Akutsu could now use four shadow clones of Eighth Consciousness without injury. If he added more strain, he could summon five or six. In an extreme burst, he could even reach seven, but that caused serious damage to his ankles, so Akashi had strictly forbidden him from using it unless absolutely necessary.

Tezuka’s strength had solidified at world-class level. The power of his Ultimate Zone had grown significantly—so much so that even Akashi’s returns were affected. As expected, his Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami followed the path of Light of Resolve.

Tachibana’s Beast Aura had become much more refined. He could now unleash the Roar of the Lion multiple times. As for Chitose, he could now activate Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami fluently, though Akashi wasn’t sure which path he would take.

Kite’s Dark Side had become more vicious than ever, and what surprised Akashi most was that Kite had silently reached half-step world-class level. With the boost from Shura Path, he could even handle normal world-class players. There was also a trace of dimensional energy about him now.

Krauser’s Wirbel Taufe had grown incredibly powerful. It was likely that even ordinary world-class players wouldn’t be able to return it easily. Although he still fell short of the original Volk, Krauser had developed a new technique through Shura Path that even startled Akashi with its destructive force.

The week passed quickly. Tomorrow was the official start of this year’s national tournament. Tennis fans across the country were buzzing with excitement. Finally, the biggest event of the year had arrived. But everyone expected another chaotic battle among the top Kanto schools.

As for the championship, nobody even bothered to argue anymore. In everyone’s eyes, Fudomine’s three-peat was already a done deal.