Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 219: Chapter 29: Lost Tokugawa

”I don’t know how you did it, but there’s one thing I know for sure! You’re on the same level as that man, so in the rest of this match, even if it costs me my life, I will win! Akashi Seijurō!” Tokugawa said with firm resolve, the aura of the Ashura Path around him growing denser.

”Foolish. Your defeat was decided long ago. In front of these eyes, no one can resist.” Akashi’s tone was calm, but Tokugawa could feel the overwhelming pressure radiating from him.

The third game was Tokugawa’s service game. Standing at the baseline, he pushed all negative emotions deep down. That faint, invisible pressure was still there, but with the Ashura Path active, he could at least barely withstand it.

He tossed the tennis ball high, the deep purple glow of the Ashura Path flickering on his left hand, then slammed down on the descending ball. It shot toward Akashi’s court at extreme speed, trailing a rainbow-colored flame.

”Rainbow Serve!”

”I already told you—this serve is meaningless.” Akashi’s cold voice rang out as his racquet intercepted the bouncing ball, then sent it flying back with a single stroke. The pressure wave from the shot stirred up dust across the court.

”Whether it’s meaningful or not isn’t for you to decide!” Tokugawa instantly chased down the ball, speaking as he gripped the racquet with both hands and smashed it hard.

As Tokugawa’s return landed, dust slowly began rising around the court. The power from both sides was clear, but Akashi calmly returned the ball again, the red rings in his pupils flickering faintly.

Tokugawa reached the landing spot without backing down, intercepting Akashi’s return again. But the weight coming through the racquet made him secretly uneasy—Akashi clearly didn’t look like a power-type player at all.

Just as Tokugawa returned the shot, that strange premonition struck again. It made him hesitate—last time, trusting this feeling had cost him the point. But there was no time to think, and his body moved on instinct, following the premonition.

”When faced with a future right before their eyes, humans will instinctively believe they’ve made the correct choice. Only those who are truly strong will question whether that future is right or wrong.” Akashi said indifferently as he watched Tokugawa’s movements.

Following his premonition, Tokugawa reached the landing spot ahead of time. In his eyes, Akashi’s return was exactly as predicted, the ball flying straight toward him. But just as he swung to return it, the ball in front of him vanished. A shadow flashed past his right side, and then a familiar voice rang out.

”0–15!”

”Again... Why is my premonition... No! What did you do, Akashi Seijurō?!” Tokugawa quickly snapped back, glaring hard at Akashi.

”I didn’t do anything unnecessary. You’re just too weak. That’s all.” Akashi replied without expression.

”Don’t joke with me! To defeat that man, I was reborn from hell—how could I be weak now?!” Tokugawa shouted back, unwilling to accept it.

On the sidelines, Oni and Irie both wore heavy expressions. Irie spoke with concern.

”Akashi-kun really doesn’t intend to destroy Tokugawa’s tennis, but he is shaking Tokugawa’s own belief.”

”Now it’s all up to Tokugawa himself. If he can withstand the pressure Akashi-kun is giving him, maybe he’ll break through even further in the future.” Oni said gravely.

”The future, huh? As expected of Akashi-kun... Maybe I should have more talks with him.” Yukimura watched Akashi on the court, a strange light flickering in his eyes.

”When faced with the future right in front of you, what choice will you make?” From the players’ seats, Kite spoke as if to Krauser beside him, though it also sounded like he was talking to himself.

”The future is too far away. I’ll only seize the present.” Krauser replied coldly.

On court, Tokugawa had calmed his emotions, though his expression had grown even darker. He served the Rainbow Serve again—knowing full well it was useless against Akashi, but showing his refusal to give in.

The two quickly clashed again, trading shots at high speed. After three or four rallies, that premonition came to Tokugawa once more. But this time, he completely ignored it, his eyes locked only on Akashi’s movements.

The moment Akashi returned the ball, Tokugawa made his decision and instantly darted toward the right baseline corner. But in the next second, as the ball crossed the net, it dropped quickly, bounced a few times in the front court, and then stopped.

”0–30!”

”To avoid being misled by your premonition, you acted purely on instinct in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, in front of me, all such efforts are meaningless.” After scoring, Akashi stood where he was, looking at Tokugawa as he spoke slowly.

This time, Tokugawa didn’t argue. He silently walked back to the center of the baseline, his mind working hard to figure out how to break Akashi’s ability. But by chance, his eyes landed on the jacket Akashi was wearing, and his mood sank even heavier.

After serving, Tokugawa poured all his focus into observing Akashi’s every move. But without Akashi’s Emperor Eye, or the freakish insight of Atobe or Irie, there was naturally nothing he could read—Akashi still saw and controlled the future.

”0–40!”

”Game! Akashi Seijurō! 3–0!”

”Damn it... All my movements are being read. Just what’s with those eyes...?” Tokugawa muttered under his breath, panting heavily.

Only three games in, and Tokugawa was already breathing hard. This clearly wasn’t about stamina—it was the crushing mental pressure. Even in his match against Byoudouin, he hadn’t felt such weight.

Byoudouin’s approach had been physical torment and the shattering of Tokugawa’s pride. Akashi, on the other hand, was doing only one thing—piling on endless pressure. If Tokugawa’s will wasn’t strong enough, his belief would crumble and he’d be finished.

The fourth game was Akashi’s serve again. He didn’t say another word, didn’t even glance at Tokugawa, just served a blazing high-speed ball. The angle wasn’t sharp—looked almost like a casual shot.

But Tokugawa still had to go all out to reach it, intercepting it on the bounce. Even with the Ashura Path active, Akashi’s constant mental pressure kept Tokugawa’s five attributes down to about 4.8—weaker than when the match began.

Fortunately, the Ashura Path’s main purpose wasn’t boosting the five attributes, but awakening the player’s will, allowing a mental breakthrough and unlocking rare special abilities—just like Akutsu’s Eighth Consciousness.

”You’ve given up on all your premonitions and predictions? How laughable.” In the rally, Akashi noticed Tokugawa’s current thinking. To avoid being misled again, Tokugawa now waited until Akashi returned the ball before moving, though it made his interceptions look rushed.

After returning Tokugawa’s topspin shot, Akashi stepped forward quickly to the net. The jacket on his back billowed like a cape in the wind. Tokugawa, startled at Akashi’s sudden approach, then heard the emotionless voice in his ear:

”Fall.”

In that instant, Tokugawa’s whole body seemed to lose balance, and he fell backward involuntarily. On the opposite side, Akashi’s cold gaze never wavered as he swung and smashed the ball over Tokugawa’s head, landing it on the baseline and sending it out of the court.

”15–0!”

”You... what exactly...” Tokugawa sat on the ground, at a loss for words.

”Are you going to ask me what I did again? It’s simple—I told you to fall, so you fell. Because my command is absolute.” Akashi stood at the net, looking down on him as he spoke. Then he turned and walked back to the baseline.

Tokugawa remained seated on the court, staring blankly at Akashi’s back. His mind was hazy now. Was his strength really as weak as Akashi claimed?