Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 212: Chapter 22: Who’s the Pig? Who’s the Tiger?

On the court, Irie’s pupils had completely lost focus. He stood there blankly, like his soul had left his body. Across from him, Yukimura stared at him coldly.

”You probably can’t hear me anymore, but I’ll say it anyway—I don’t plan on losing this match,” Yukimura said calmly, casting one final glance at Irie before turning toward the baseline. His coat swayed gently in the breeze.

”What did that little... that middle schooler just say? Took away his five senses? Is this a joke?!” many of the high school players courtside couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.

”I think I heard something like that back in middle school. That Rikkai captain, Yukimura Seiichi, could apparently erase an opponent’s five senses during a match... but I always thought it was just a rumor!” a first-year player spoke up, voice trembling.

”So this is Yukimura Seiichi? I think I’ve heard of him too. They say he was already called ’Child of God’ back in elementary school!” More and more people started whispering about Yukimura.

”If that’s true... then that guy who could suppress him through all of middle school, Akashi...” a first-year gulped and nervously glanced toward Akashi on the sidelines.

While everyone buzzed, Yukimura didn’t hesitate to serve. The second game was his, and the ball rocketed past Irie without any reaction, bouncing out of bounds.

”Ace! 15-0!”

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Ace! 40-0!”

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 2-0!”

In the blink of an eye, Yukimura took the second game with four straight aces. But there wasn’t a hint of joy or pride on his face. Maybe he’d caught it from Akashi or Tezuka—he looked completely cold now.

Game three was Irie’s serve, but he still looked lost, completely unaware of what was happening. Even with the umpire repeatedly calling to him, he gave no response.

”Serve time violation! Second serve!”

”Time violation! 0-15!”

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 3-0!”

Irie stood motionless the whole time. The umpire kept warning him, but in the end, he got four time violations and lost his service game without Yukimura doing a thing.

’Still holding the five senses nullification, huh? Hmph. While you’re busy being made a clown, you’d better also ask yourself if you’ve already become one. Irie-senpai, let me teach you that lesson today,’ Yukimura thought silently, standing at the baseline and watching Irie across the net.

”This match is already over for Irie,” Akashi said calmly, watching the court.

”How can you be so sure? We both know how strong Irie is,” Oni asked, confused.

”Here’s a little advice~ If you pretend to be a pig to eat a tiger for too long... you’ll actually become the pig. Irie’s up against someone like Yukimura, and he still dares to act so careless. No matter the reason, his loss is already sealed,” Akashi replied, voice flat.

Oni fell silent. He’d known about Irie’s problem for a long time, but that was just how Irie was. No one could change it but him. If Irie kept hiding his strength or playing around in key moments, it could lead to consequences that couldn’t be undone.

”If Irie keeps up this mindset, I’ll recommend to the head coach that he be banned from playing against any team captains in the upcoming world tournament,” Akashi said quietly.

In terms of ability, Irie was definitely top five. Not only did he have perception rivaling Atobe—maybe even better—he had also awakened an alternate dimension. Even Oni or Byoudouin couldn’t guarantee they could beat him easily.

But Irie’s flaw was clear—his attitude toward matches. For him, winning or losing wasn’t as important as putting on a performance. He often gave up points just to satisfy that urge to act.

Sure, he usually managed to claw his way back with sheer strength. But no one can guarantee they’ll never lose—or that their skill will always outmatch the opponent’s. Irie was dancing on a wire, and while it looked elegant and dreamy, the risk was terrifying. One slip, and it’s a straight drop into the abyss.

Akashi still remembered from the original storyline: during the exhibition match between the Japan Team and the German Team, Irie slacked off the entire match against Tezuka and QP. Atobe was the only one who gave it his all. They were crushed, and Irie nearly lost all confidence in his tennis.

Back then, it was explained that Irie did it to help Atobe unlock his potential, and Atobe’s string of breakthroughs afterward seemed to support that. But Akashi didn’t buy it at all. Because it was an exhibition match, it was obvious Irie didn’t care about winning or losing—he was just trying to hide his true ability so his later performance would seem more convincing.

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 4-0!”

As Akashi pondered Irie’s issue, Yukimura had already cleanly taken the fourth game. Irie remained exactly the same—blank and motionless. Even the other middle schoolers watching could tell he was faking it.

”Yukimura’s mental pressure is strong, sure. But with Irie-senpai’s strength, breaking free from five-sense nullification should be easy,” Chitose said with a mix of confusion and helplessness.

”Hmph~ Looks like he’s about to suffer. Even I wouldn’t dare let my guard down against Yukimura,” Atobe sneered coldly.

”Still not planning to break free? In that case, I’ll just take this match then, Irie-senpai,” Yukimura muttered to himself as he looked across at Irie.

”Game! Yukimura Seiichi! 5-0!”

Just like in the third game, Irie was called for four service time violations and lost the game. Yukimura didn’t even have to lift a finger. His expression grew even colder—someone like him, obsessed with winning, simply couldn’t understand Irie’s behavior.

”Ace! 15-0!”

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Ace! 40-0!”

Even knowing Irie was faking it, Yukimura had no intention of holding back. He launched three ultra-fast serves, bringing the match to match point. Still, he had a hunch Irie would return to form soon.

Sure enough, just as Yukimura stood at the baseline ready to serve the final ball, Irie finally moved. He suddenly bent over, gasping for breath, his face stricken with panic. Beads of cold sweat poured down his forehead.

”What... what just happened... I couldn’t... feel my own existence!” Irie said between ragged breaths, voice trembling.

”I really admire your acting, Irie-senpai. That reaction looked incredibly real. But! If you’re only just regaining your senses now, it might already be too late,” Yukimura said, calmly watching his performance.

As he finished speaking, a terrifying wave of energy radiated from Yukimura. Behind him, a pair of massive butterfly wings began to shimmer into view—dreamlike, surreal, almost fairytale-like.

Seeing Yukimura’s form, Irie’s pupils involuntarily shrank. That aura—it had to be an alternate dimension. Irie hadn’t expected this middle schooler’s power to have reached this level.

Yukimura tossed the tennis ball high. A huge surge of mental energy exploded from within him, enveloping the entire court. All the players courtside felt the pressure, even Tanegashima and Ochi—only Akashi remained unaffected.

As the massive wings behind Yukimura gave a slight flutter, the tennis ball shot across the court, wrapped in overwhelming mental force. Irie had no time for theatrics anymore. He moved instantly, appearing at the drop point. His own aura surged as well, a black hole-like shadow spinning around him.

At the moment his racket intercepted the ball, a flood of shattered visions rushed into his mind—all of them scenes of being utterly crushed by Yukimura. They felt all too real, like he was truly living through them.

”Nightmare Descent!”

The sudden shock of the mental images threw Irie into a daze. But his body moved on instinct and returned the ball. Immediately after, Irie’s own mental energy erupted completely. The black hole around him solidified and began to slowly devour the residual energy Yukimura had planted inside him.

Across the court, Yukimura responded by releasing his full power. A colossal figure rose behind him—his alternate dimension: Morpheus. Morpheus crossed both hands, lips moving as if chanting something.

The mental pressure around Yukimura surged to a new level. As he hit back, countless versions of himself appeared in Irie’s mind—endless angles, endless shot trajectories, filling his senses one by one.

”Dream Whisper Incantation!”

In that instant, Irie’s entire consciousness was overwhelmed. The black hole around him faded to near transparency. Behind him came the sound of the tennis ball landing. He tried to turn and chase it—but it was already too late.

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