Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 198: Chapter 8: Ryōma’s Breakthrough

That last shot—truthfully, Irie hadn’t planned to use Black Hole at all. Although his body constitution was unique enough that he wasn’t affected by its side effects, there was no need to counter every ball with it.

In fact, Black Hole was a technique Irie developed specifically based on his own unique traits. Besides Irie himself, no one else was suited to using Black Hole for an extended time. In the original, the fact that he limited Tokugawa to using it for no more than 30 minutes made that very clear.

For Tokugawa, Black Hole was his final trump card. But for Irie, it was just a defensive move—a bit less effective than Tanegashima’s ”Halt Destruction Nothingness”. His real strength lay in reading people’s hearts.

That was why Irie had no problem showing Black Hole openly. It didn’t fully reveal his true power. Of course, if Ryōma hadn’t called out his acting earlier, it was entirely possible Irie would’ve ended up being pushed back again.

”Atobe! Was that your World of Ice just now?” Sanada called out from the sidelines.

”No. It looks similar, but the principle behind it is totally different,” Atobe responded grimly.

In truth, Irie’s Ice Bind owed some of its inspiration to Atobe. Back when Atobe was in his second year, they’d often played practice matches. During those times, Atobe had used World of Ice on Irie more than once. But no matter how many times they played, Atobe always came up just short—as if with one final push, he might win.

At first, Atobe believed he just wasn’t working hard enough. But one day, during an in-the-moment breakthrough, Irie failed to react fast enough and accidentally revealed a portion of his real ability. That’s when Atobe realized Irie had been acting the whole time—he’d never taken any of their matches seriously.

Furious, Atobe demanded a proper match. Irie finally agreed. The result? Atobe was completely crushed. And in that match, Irie not only replicated World of Ice, but also created his own ability from it—Ice Bind.

”If my World of Ice is about sealing the opponent’s blind spots,” Atobe explained irritably, ”then Irie’s Ice Bind freezes the opponent completely—from the inside out, body and mind.”

While Atobe spoke, Irie had already served again. Ryōma was starting to lose focus. Even the glow of Ten’i flickered around him. Although instinct drove him to return the serve, the quality of his shot had noticeably dropped.

But in that moment, Ryōma happened to glance at Akashi, who stood courtside with a cold expression. That tiny spark of frustration reignited the fire inside him. He hadn’t forgotten how Akashi had shattered his pride—how he’d made him realize the overwhelming difference between them despite being the same age.

Of course, Irie had already read Ryōma’s heart clearly. He hit the ball back casually, thinking the match was just about done. But in the next second, Ryōma appeared at the net, glowing with golden light, leapt high into the air, and spun 720 degrees midair before slamming down a ferocious smash. All of that golden light poured into the ball, transforming it into a raging cyclone flying straight at Irie.

”Cyclone Smash!”

Irie looked calmly at the whirlwind. The corners of his mouth curved slightly. He swung his racket, and a pitch-black Black Hole instantly formed, freezing the whirlwind in place. Then, the tennis ball appeared at the center of the void.

The next moment, the ball flew like a yellow afterimage toward the opposite court. Just as it landed, Ryōma instinctively flashed forward and caught up to it, smacking it backhand with a powerful spin toward Irie’s side.

’Is this... a breakthrough during the match? Seriously, what’s with these kouhai and their clichés?’ Irie grumbled internally. Still, he moved to intercept, eyes sharp, and summoned a wave of icy force that engulfed Ryōma completely.

As Ryōma was frozen solid, the ball shot past him. But the very next instant, a strange ripple burst from Ryōma’s body. Cracks spread across the ice, and he shattered out of it. He spun around and chased after the ball. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t reach it in time.

”40-0!”

With Irie’s point, it was now match point. But what really surprised Irie was Ryōma’s last move—especially that ripple at the end. Not only Irie, but even Akashi and Oni standing on the sideline sensed something unusual.

”Akashi! That ripple from that little brat just now—there’s no mistaking it! What kind of monsters are all of you middle schoolers?!” Oni said, clearly shaken.

”Don’t get the wrong idea, Oni. Echizen Ryōma is a special case. You’ll understand soon enough,” Akashi replied, sounding more annoyed than surprised. He’d seen it happen many times already. Honestly, only Ryōma could make the protagonist aura this absurd.

”Hey! Akutsu! Did Echizen just now...?” Tachibana Kippei asked uncertainly beside Akutsu.

”Tch. That brat’s still got a long way to go. Damn annoying guy,” Akutsu replied with a scowl, eyes locked on Ryōma like a predator sizing up its prey.

”Do your best, Koshimae!!!” Kintarō’s voice rang out just then from the sideline, cheering enthusiastically, which only made Akutsu even more irritated.

Meanwhile, in the coaches’ office, the three coaches were watching the match through a monitoring screen. Originally, they had planned for Oni to greet the newly arrived middle schoolers at the training camp. But on Akashi’s recommendation, they sent Irie in instead. At the time, they hadn’t quite understood why, but they followed his suggestion.

”Didn’t expect Echizen Ryōma to push Irie into revealing this much strength! That really caught me off guard!” Saitō Itaru said with some delight.

”Data team, update Irie Kanata’s real-time five-attribute data immediately. Seal the updated file and restrict viewing access for other players,” Kurobe ordered into the mic.

”Hmph! I can’t believe I got fooled. That Irie guy always hides most of his ability during physical tests! Looks like I’ll need to increase his physical training load,” Tsuge Ryūji said with a tone of irritation.

”Well, well~ you know Irie’s personality. But this Echizen Ryōma is quite something. Not as strong as Akashi was in his first year, but definitely not any weaker than first-year Akutsu. Guess that’s to be expected from Nanjirō-san’s son,” Saitō said, suddenly showing interest in Ryōma.

”This batch of middle schoolers—aside from a few filler picks—none of them should be underestimated. Especially those third-years who’ve been through training camp before. Some are clearly first-string level. Not to mention Akashi,” Kurobe added with a serious tone.

”Let them go wild. With the head coach watching, nothing major will happen anyway. Those first-stringers have been relaxing too long,” Takushoku said indifferently.

Back on the court, Ryōma was breathing heavily. The glow of Ten’i had completely faded from his body, but his eyes were sharp and clear, his aura stronger than ever. He slowly raised his left hand, pointed his racket at Irie, and spoke.

”Thanks for the pressure, senpai. Now, I’m going to break through that so-called Black Hole head-on.”

”See? That’s exactly the kind of attitude that makes you so unlikable, Echizen Ryōma. But what do you think of my acting just now?” Irie smiled again, his usual expression returning. Honestly, he hadn’t expected that pushing Ryōma would trigger a breakthrough instead.

Ryōma froze for a second, then realized Irie had been acting angry earlier. The thought made him feel half-exasperated. ’How much does this senpai love acting anyway? Why is he even playing tennis in the first place?’

”Not... not bad,” Ryōma muttered, tugging down the brim of his cap. Even though he now knew it had been an act, he didn’t dare judge Irie’s performance too carelessly anymore.

”That’s good to hear! But even with your compliments, I still plan to win this match, Echizen!” Irie laughed as he tossed the ball into the air and slammed a high-speed serve—much faster than any he’d used before.

Still, Ryōma reacted instantly, flashing to the landing spot. The moment he moved, several powerful players watching from the sidelines revealed startled expressions. Behind Ryōma, a vague shadow of a warrior in samurai armor began to appear.

Ryōma’s dimensional prototype—The Samurai.