Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 266: Chapter 76: Sleepwalking Mōri

Game six was Mōri’s turn to serve. Just then, his eyes suddenly opened, revealing eerie violet pupils glowing faintly, yet his body remained in a state of sleep. A soft smile lingered on his face, making the whole sight unsettling.

”Yare yare! So it showed up after all~ Mōri’s Sleepwalking Mode!” Irie laughed from the stands.

”Now Mōri-chan can truly be called offense and defense in one! I heard this trick was inspired by his juniors too!” Tanegashima added with a smile.

Standing at the baseline, Mōri picked up a ball, tossed it high, and twisted his wrist sharply, driving his racket down. The ball spun violently as it shot across the court.

Atobe read the path instantly and rushed to the bounce spot. As the ball hit the ground, it spun furiously. Atobe suddenly felt a familiar sensation, his face darkened, and he bent down to sweep at it—but he was too late. The ball skidded forward low and shot out of bounds.

”Tannhauser Serve!”

”Ace! 15-0!”

”Impossible?! That’s ore-sama’s Tannhauser!” Atobe’s eyes widened in disbelief.

”From now on, Mōri will send back all the techniques you’ve shown,” Ochi spoke calmly from the other side.

”Hah? Don’t joke with me! Are you saying Mōri has turned into Kabaji?” Atobe scoffed, half laughing in irritation.

”This isn’t mimicry or copying. You’ll understand soon enough,” Ochi said softly, offering rare explanation before falling silent again.

Mōri was already preparing his second serve. He tossed the ball high, his racket arm cutting through the air in a blur. The ball became a howling gust racing across the court.

”Swift as the Wind!”

”What?!” Sanada’s eyes widened in shock.

”Heh~ in the end, it’s nothing more than something like Muga,” Atobe smirked, recovering from his surprise. He chased the ball down, swung hard, and shattered the gale. The ball streaked back as a golden beam.

Mōri suddenly flashed to the net, his body spinning twice on the spot before swinging down with inertia. Atobe and Sanada instinctively stepped back.

”This time it’s ’Fierce as Fire,’ huh? A ridiculous imitation!” Atobe sneered.

But the moment his racket struck, all force and spin vanished. Mōri pressed lightly and sent the ball floating over the net, dropping dead with only a faint bounce.

”30-0!”

”This... ’Immovable as a Mountain’?” Sanada muttered in disbelief, staring at the dead ball.

Atobe recalled Ochi’s words. Mōri wasn’t imitating or copying, but even he couldn’t grasp what was happening. Meanwhile, in the coach’s seat, Akashi seemed to understand.

”Sleeping... copying... dreaming... I see. That explains it,” Akashi murmured to himself.

”Why is Mōri-senpai suddenly using Atobe and Sanada’s techniques?” Marui asked, baffled.

”It looks kind of like Muga no Kyōchi, but not exactly,” Jackal replied uncertainly.

”I only know it’s not mimicry, and it’s not Muga either. But what it is exactly—I don’t know~” Niō narrowed his eyes, thoughtful.

”You seem a bit confused, kouhai-tachi~” A warm voice drifted over. The group turned and saw Mitsuya standing beside them.

”Mitsuya-senpai! You know what’s going on?” Yanagi asked at once.

”This is Mōri’s self-created Sleepwalking Mode. Simply put, he’s dreaming, and his body responds instinctively to those dreams—like sleepwalking,” Mitsuya explained with a smile.

Everyone blinked. Sleeping during a match was already outrageous, but now Mōri was adding sleepwalking into the mix?

”The human brain sometimes stores countless details unconsciously. Most people can’t process or interpret them, so they resurface fragmented in dreams. That’s the saying—’What you think in the day, you dream at night.’

Mōri is the same. In matches, his brain records his opponent’s techniques. Normally he can’t use them directly. But when asleep, those techniques appear as dream fragments. And when sleepwalking, his body reacts accordingly.

But dreams are often bizarre or distorted, so even Mōri himself doesn’t know how those techniques will manifest. Sometimes they’re close to the original, sometimes they turn into something completely different,” Mitsuya explained clearly, outlining the principle behind Mōri’s Sleepwalking Mode.

While Mitsuya was explaining to the middle schoolers, Mōri had already sent out his third serve. This time it was just a plain super high-speed serve. Sanada stepped in without hesitation, countering with Swift as the Wind. The ball turned into a roaring gale, blasting toward Ochi and Mōri.

Mōri didn’t move right after serving, so Ochi filled the gap, intercepting Sanada’s return. His gaze locked with Sanada’s for an instant. Sanada’s body froze by instinct, and Ochi’s racket lashed out. The ball blurred past Sanada’s side.

But Atobe suddenly appeared in its path. Ice shards shot from his eyes, stabbing into the ground around Mōri and Ochi. Atobe swung his racket at one of the icy spears.

”World of Ice!”

The ball flew toward the ice shard, but in the next second, a flash of lightning ripped through. All the ice shattered at once. Mōri, his body sparking with electricity, flickered to the front and smashed the ball with full force.

But instead of becoming thunder, the return was nothing more than an ordinary crosscourt shot. Sanada scoffed, moving to chase it down—only to find his entire body surrounded by ice spears. It was too late to unleash Swift as Lightning.

The ball struck the far corner and bounced out. Atobe froze for a moment. He’d assumed Sanada would handle it, so he hadn’t interfered. But somehow, Mōri had unleashed World of Ice.

”40-0!”

”Oi oi! You’ve gotta be kidding me! Even if Mōri-senpai can hit back others’ techniques through sleepwalking, without Atobe’s eye, how did he manage World of Ice?!” Hiyoshi shouted, bristling.

”Mōri can instantly read an opponent’s shots and weaknesses. That shows his natural perception is sharp. Maybe not at Atobe’s level, but it’s not impossible for him to pull off World of Ice,” Akashi said calmly from the coach’s seat.

”Didn’t think Mōri-senpai would develop such a skill after joining U-17. He really is still that dazzling genius,” Yukimura said with a bright smile, showing no concern over Sanada and Atobe being pushed back. He believed they’d find a way.

”Yeah~ who would’ve thought the senpai who used to slack off every chance he got in training is now this strong?” Yanagi said, a bit emotional. He could still recall forcing Mōri to practice with punishment tea.

In this timeline Yukimura never fell ill, but Mōri’s path was different too, partly due to Akashi’s influence. In the original path, his attitude had been shaped by Rikkai’s overwhelming strength. After joining, he’d experienced their national two-time championship.

Back in his first year, he had already witnessed Makinofuji’s two-time win. Then in third year, he was part of Rikkai’s double championship run. This gave him the illusion that victory came effortlessly. Even if he lost, his team would carry him.

It wasn’t until he entered U-17 and was crushed by Ochi—and then saw Yukimura’s painful struggles—that he truly woke up. Now, influenced by Yukimura and others, Mōri finally understood winning was never simple, especially with Akashi towering ahead of him like a mountain.

On court, Mōri tossed the ball high and leapt, spinning once in midair before slamming down. The ball turned into a blazing pillar of fire, crashing toward the opposite side.

”Fierce as Fire!”

”He’s using a serve to hit that move?! Don’t mess around! That’s not Fierce as Fire at all!” Sanada roared, face dark, lightning bursting around him as he flickered in front of the fire pillar. With both hands on the racket, he slashed forward.

The flames scattered instantly. Lightning wrapped the ball into a massive crackling sphere, roaring toward the other side. Ochi sprinted in several quick steps and braced himself with both hands to receive it.

The ball pounded against his racket, but he forced it back. Atobe jumped at the net, aiming to knock Ochi’s racket away just like before. The ball angled toward Ochi’s right hand.

But Ochi sidestepped on purpose. Mōri appeared behind him, hidden until now by Ochi’s tall frame, even from Atobe’s sharp eyes.

Mōri smashed a straight drive, sending the ball under Atobe. Luckily Sanada reacted in time, blocking at the front. The ball soared back high into Ochi and Mōri’s side.

Mōri leapt, ready for a huge smash. Sanada and Atobe braced themselves—only for Mōri to twist midair in an acrobatic bend, leaving his back wide open.

Ochi’s tall figure appeared behind him. With one fierce swing, he spiked the ball down. A heavy thud echoed behind Atobe and Sanada as the ball landed. It was Ochi’s signature—Mach Smash.

”Game! Japan Team! 3-3!”