Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 179: Chapter 179: Ryōma vs. Atobe, Once Again

”Game! 6-4! Match over! Winner: Seishun Academy!”

Hiyoshi Wakashi was drenched in sweat, kneeling on the court, while Akutagawa Jirō stood with his eyes closed as if asleep. The match had started off smoothly—Hiyoshi had used Byakko and Suzaku from the Four Symbols Martial Arts to completely suppress Kikumaru.

But Oishi soon activated the Oishi Territory and started coordinating Kikumaru’s movements, pulling the match into a stalemate. Jirō decisively entered his sleep mode and, within a few rallies, also unlocked Muga no Kyōchi.

Though down by two games, Oishi and Kikumaru stopped holding back and entered their synchronization state. Faced with their flawless teamwork, Hiyoshi and Jirō began making mistakes. It was their first time playing doubles, and their chemistry couldn’t match that of Oishi and Kikumaru.

Despite putting up a good fight, Jirō and Hiyoshi were ultimately defeated. Thankfully, this outcome had been within Sakaki Tarō and Atobe’s expectations. Sakaki didn’t blame them—he simply pointed out their errors and let them rest.

After the Doubles 2 match ended, a small incident occurred: Seigaku’s Ryōma, who was about to take the court, had gone missing. Neither Ryūzaki Sumire nor Fuji knew where he was.

However, when Ryūzaki-san asked the trio of first-years about Ryōma’s departure, her expression relaxed a little. She immediately guessed it was Echizen Nanjirō who had taken him for some private training. Hopefully, they’d return in time.

Just as the umpire urged Seigaku for the third time to send their player out, Ryōma finally strolled in—followed discreetly by a middle-aged man in monk robes slipping into the stands.

”Up next is the Singles 2 match! From Hyōtei Academy: Atobe Keigo! From Seishun Academy: Echizen Ryōma! Players, please enter the court!”

The two stepped to the net for the handshake. Atobe looked at Ryōma, who was covered in dust, and said with a smirk, ”You’ve got guts, showing up late for a match against ore-sama, Echizen Ryōma.”

”Oh? So you’re my opponent this time? I’m gonna beat you completely,” Ryōma replied without backing down.

”Hahahaha! You trying to kill me with laughter, Echizen?” Atobe found Ryōma’s provocation ridiculous.

The umpire quickly stepped in to stop the exchange and urged them to begin the toss. Atobe casually turned around and gave serve to Ryōma. The umpire looked like he wanted to say something but, seeing who Atobe was, just let it slide. This tournament’s umpires clearly had a strong will to survive.

Atobe walked calmly to the backcourt. As he raised both hands, a synchronized, thunderous cheer erupted from all directions:

”Victory belongs to Hyōtei! Atobe will win!”

”Victory belongs to Hyōtei! Atobe will win!”

Once the chanting had gone on long enough, Atobe raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, the cheering stopped, plunging the stadium into eerie silence. Then Atobe slowly declared:

”Drown in ore-sama’s magnificent brilliance. Victory belongs to ore-sama!”

As soon as the words fell, the crowd exploded in cheers again. Ryōma stood across the court, veins bulging on his forehead. He’d seen this act before during the All-Japan Tournament, but it still rattled him—how could someone be this narcissistic?

”Singles 2 match begins! Seishun Academy to serve!” Even the umpire seemed fed up and immediately announced the start.

Ryōma stood at the baseline, replaying in his mind what his dad had just told him. A faint seven-colored light began rising from his body. Atobe blinked at the sight, then sneered.

Unknowingly entering Hyaku Ren Jitoku no Kiwami, Ryōma tested the ball’s bounce, then tossed it high, lightly jumped, drew his racket back, and slammed the serve forward with a clean motion. The ball spun rapidly as it flew across the court.

”Twist Serve!”

”Using your right hand? Are you looking down on ore-sama, Echizen?” Atobe scowled as Ryōma served right-handed.

In a flash, Atobe moved to the bounce spot. His pupils fired out sharp icicles, stabbing into the ground around Ryōma. He aimed his shot straight at one of the ice spears. Just as Ryōma channeled the light into his legs, he suddenly found he couldn’t move.

”World of Ice!”

”0-15!”

”Hyaku Ren Jitoku? That’s nothing to ore-sama!” Atobe said arrogantly after scoring the point.

Ryōma ignored him and continued checking the ball’s bounce. Then, just like before, he used his right hand to serve another topspin. Atobe frowned, feeling increasingly disrespected.

”0-30!”

As Atobe unleashed World of Ice again, Ryōma remained completely frozen in place, unable to move. But even after losing two consecutive points, Ryōma’s expression didn’t change. He looked totally unfazed as he returned to the baseline to serve.

Then, in the next second, he switched the racket from his right hand to his left. Clearly, he had realized that using his right hand for Twist Serves was useless against Atobe.

At the same time, the seven-colored glow around Ryōma intensified and began gathering around his head. Tiny starlights shimmered around his hair—it was unmistakably Saiki Kanpatsu no Kiwami.

”Three shots!” Ryōma, glowing all over, declared with absolute confidence.

”Eh? When did that runt awaken Saiki Kanpatsu?” Kikumaru asked in surprise from the player bench.

”The probability is 93% that it happened during the time Ryōma was gone,” Inui Sadaharu answered calmly.

”You really pulled it off, Nanjirō,” Ryūzaki-sensei murmured softly from the coach’s seat.

Atobe watched the now-glowing Ryōma with amusement but didn’t say anything. He just waited for Ryōma to serve. Without hesitation, Ryōma tossed the ball and delivered a high-speed serve with sharp angle—it seemed he had no intention of using topspin anymore.

The ball flew over the net and shot toward Atobe’s left heel. But Atobe still wore that smug expression, sliding back with a smooth step. His eyes fired several ice spears toward Ryōma’s position again. But as soon as the spears hit the ground, Atobe was stunned—they all shattered instantly.

Atobe had already returned the ball by then. Ryōma transferred the rainbow light to his legs, and with trailing afterimages, dashed to the landing point and slammed the rising ball. The tennis ball turned into a beam of light, blasted past Atobe’s feet, and flew out of bounds.

”15-30!”

”Still think beating you is a joke?” Ryōma pointed his racket at Atobe, grinning.

”Hahahaha! You haven’t changed a bit, Echizen Ryōma! Fine then, ore-sama will shatter that pride of yours!” Atobe froze for a beat, then burst out laughing, but his face quickly turned cold.

Ryōma didn’t respond and started running another mental simulation through Saiki Kanpatsu. He made another absolute declaration just before serving:

”Seven shots!”

”Hah? You won’t need that many. You’ll learn what real despair looks like soon,” Atobe sneered.

As Ryōma’s serve launched, Atobe’s eyes gleamed with a freezing light. Ryōma’s body began turning transparent in Atobe’s vision—like an X-ray, only a skeleton remained.

”Atobe Kingdom!”

Atobe rushed to the bounce spot, eyes locked on Ryōma’s skeletal frame. He instantly pinpointed Ryōma’s absolute blind spot, swung, and shot the ball over the net toward Ryōma’s right.

Just as Ryōma moved to intercept, a sharp pain froze him in place. He could only watch as the ball zipped past and bounced out of bounds.

”15-40!”

”You thought Saiki Kanpatsu could block ore-sama’s World of Ice and win? You’re dreaming, Echizen!”

Ryōma didn’t answer. He just stared deeply at Atobe, then forcefully reactivated Saiki Kanpatsu, running another simulation. But to his shock, every single path collapsed instantly—he couldn’t see any future outcomes.

The realization silenced Ryōma. His earlier smugness faded, but he didn’t give up. Since Saiki Kanpatsu wasn’t working, he poured all his strength into Hyaku Ren Jitoku. The light on his left hand flared even brighter.

As the next serve rang out, Ryōma’s power and speed clearly jumped. But to Atobe now, that serve was no threat. He didn’t even bother using Atobe Kingdom again—it consumed too much visual stamina.

With a casual swing, Atobe returned the serve. Ryōma welcomed the rally. After all, Hyaku Ren Jitoku allowed him to knock the opponent’s racket away within a few exchanges.

Ryōma charged in and intercepted, launching into a fierce exchange with Atobe. But he failed to notice the glint in Atobe’s eyes. After just two rallies, a dozen ice spears suddenly burst around Ryōma again.

”Game! Hyōtei Academy! 1-0!” As one of the spears shattered, the umpire’s voice rang out.

”Ore-sama’s World of Ice isn’t that easy to shut down. You really thought Saiki Kanpatsu could block it? Too naive, Echizen Ryōma!” Atobe flicked his hair, oozing confidence after breaking serve.