Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 268: Chapter 78: Atobe Who Saw the Future

”These two brats are about to step into that realm, huh~ good!” Mifune muttered to himself from the coach’s seat, a pleased smile on his face.

”Strange... why did Mōri stretch out his racket to intercept before the ball even refracted?” Mutsu Yūma frowned.

”Because he didn’t see Sanada swing again, so his instincts told him it wasn’t Black Dragon Slash,” Irie answered calmly, his eyes deep as he watched Sanada.

”The principle of Black Dragon Slash is using racket swing to create air pressure that bends the ball’s flight. But just now, Sanada didn’t swing again after his return. Very interesting!” Tanegashima spoke with rising excitement.

”Genichirō...” From the players’ seats, Yukimura softly called Sanada’s name.

”I think I’ve seen this before~” Tachibana Kippei spoke up.

”Yeah. At Nationals, Sanada used that same thing to take a point from Akashi,” Chitose nodded in agreement.

”Alternate Dimension, huh? Makes me curious... can Sanada really break through to that step?” Fuji’s tone unconsciously grew heavy.

”Vice-captain, fight on!” Kirihara, as always, shouted his cheer for his ’dad.’

On court, though Atobe and Sanada had taken the seventh game, both wore tense expressions. Next up was Ochi’s serve, and Mach Serve still loomed like a wall they had to cross.

Ochi stepped to the baseline, picked up a ball, and without hesitation tossed and struck. Even though Sanada, like Atobe, had retreated all the way to the fence, he still couldn’t react in time.

”Ace! 15-0!”

At that moment Atobe walked up to Sanada. The two exchanged a few quiet words. Sanada’s eyes widened at first, but then he nodded. Their brief conversation stirred curiosity, but by then Ochi already had his second ball in hand.

Sanada locked his full focus on Ochi’s right arm. Faint sparks of lightning flashed at his legs. As Ochi tossed and swung, lightning burst from Sanada’s body and he flickered to the center of the baseline.

His racket stretched forward, and he felt a faint tremor in his hand. He glanced down instantly—nothing. The ball was already bouncing weakly behind him before stopping.

”Ace! 30-0!”

”Failed again? But... was that tremor just my imagination?” Sanada muttered as he walked toward the net.

Yet when Sanada had appeared in the center, Ochi’s pupils had shrunk sharply. He knew Sanada’s racket had brushed the ball, but still couldn’t catch the full speed of his Mach Serve.

Atobe, however, was smiling. His hunch was right—Ochi unconsciously repeated the same trajectory each time he served, trusting in his serve’s absolute speed.

”Finally found your weakness, former captain of Hyōtei,” Atobe whispered coldly.

Though surprised by Sanada’s reaction, Ochi dismissed it as coincidence and tossed again. His swing sent the ball to the left sideline.

”Ace! 40-0!”

Atobe didn’t move, standing motionless with a smile that never faded, his gaze sharpening instead. In his mind flashed a strange, unfamiliar scene—and the image of Akashi.

As Ochi raised the fourth serve, Atobe felt a surge of power like never before, as though his body itself had evolved.

The instant Ochi’s Mach Serve flew, Atobe’s form blurred like a phantom, appearing at the left sideline. A fading afterimage lingered where he had been. A sharp thwack rang as racket met ball.

Atobe pressed his racket to the ground, deflecting the serve high into the air. Both Ochi and Sanada froze in shock. Then Mōri suddenly leapt at the net, smashing the ball down. It hit the baseline and bounced out.

”Game! Japan Team! 4-4!”

All eyes turned to the speed monitor. The display read 293 km/h.

The Mach Serve’s speed had not dropped. Atobe had truly blocked it—not a full return, but it wasn’t an ace. That alone was a massive breakthrough.

”Atobe, just how far are you going to evolve before you’re satisfied?” Oshitari chuckled from the stands.

”Victory will be Atobe’s,” Kabaji suddenly declared.

Everyone laughed at Kabaji’s words, then erupted in chants of support: ”Victory will be Atobe’s!” Their voices echoed through the stadium.

On court, Atobe casually raised his right hand and snapped his fingers, silencing the cheers. Sanada, watching, could only accept it this time. He had no method yet to counter the Mach Serve.

”So this is what it feels like to see the future? I think I’ve gotten to know you a little more, Akashi Seijurō,” Atobe muttered under his breath, then walked to the baseline.

At that moment, Mōri’s body suddenly trembled. His pupils returned to normal. He looked blankly at Ochi for a moment, then smiled.

”Oh my? Tsukimitsu-san’s Mach Serve has been cracked~ But don’t worry. With me here, they won’t score that easily!”

”Looks like the dreamwalking time is over. Still, Atobe growing to this level is beyond what I expected. I should thank him for pointing out a flaw of mine,” Ochi murmured, his expression cold again though a hint of relief shone in his eyes.

The ninth game was Atobe’s serve. He stepped to the baseline, tossed the ball high, and let his mental force wrap around the racket. With a fierce swing, he smashed down on the ball.

A violent shockwave rippled outward. The ball carried immense power as it blasted toward the opposite court, stirring dust along its path and making the net shudder violently.

”Ice Emperor!”

Mōri instantly slipped back into sleep mode. He rushed to the landing point and swung. The impact thundered up his arm, but he still forced the return. The ball flew straight toward the baseline—only to miss.

”Out! 15-0!”

Atobe didn’t care that Mōri managed to touch his Ice Emperor. What mattered was the power surging through him, his body evolving to a higher state, exploding with strength.

”Possibilities of the future, huh? Impressive power. Now, drown in the brilliance of Ore-sama’s artistry!” Atobe laughed, tossed the ball again, and struck another Ice Emperor.

The ball roared across the net. Mōri swung once more, but this time his racket flew from his hand, the ball slamming into the wall with a blast that shook the court.

”Ace! 30-0!”

”The power of Ice Emperor just jumped up drastically!” Irie’s eyes sparkled from the stands.

”Precisely. The previous one was weaker—this one’s power increased by exactly 27.3%,” Mitsuya adjusted his glasses, astonished. Even he hadn’t predicted such evolution.

”Atobe... don’t tell me...” From the bench, Akashi’s eyes lit up, muttering under his breath as if realizing something.

Atobe unleashed Ice Emperor again. This time Ochi intercepted. He shifted his racket repeatedly, deflecting the shockwave little by little, weakening the strike until he managed to block it. But he had no strength left for a counter. The ball popped high into the air.

Atobe was already at the net. He leapt, a field of stars unfurling behind him, and brought his racket down in a devastating smash.

”Atobe Kingdom!”

The colorful starlight wrapped the ball, blasting down toward the opposite side. Mōri rushed forward, gripped his racket with both hands, and braced. The impact shattered his racket and sent it flying, but he somehow blocked the shot back.

”I’ll leave the rest to you, Ochi-senpai!” Mōri’s eyes snapped open as he shouted.

”You underestimate Ore-sama, Mōri! Finale of Extinction!” Atobe jumped again and crushed the returning ball. It slammed into the court, then bounced off at an impossible angle. Ochi barely even reacted before it was too late.

”40-0!”

Ochi stared across at Atobe. He could feel it clearly—Atobe’s strength had crossed into the threshold of world-class, surpassing Mōri by far. He didn’t know whether to feel impressed or uneasy.

Atobe only smirked arrogantly and turned back to the baseline, his overwhelming aura even stunning Sanada for a moment. This was not the same Atobe as before.

He steadied his breath, sensing the power still rising inside him. Strange fragments flashed through his mind, visions of what his final evolution might be.

He picked up a ball, tested its bounce, then grinned smugly. He looked at Mōri and Ochi, tossed the ball high, and shouted:

”As expected! Ore-sama’s chosen path was never wrong! Now let me freeze your world completely—Absolute Zero World!”

The ball exploded into blinding white light. Icebergs and blizzards suddenly filled the court, as if freezing space itself.

The white aurora slammed into a glacier, shattering it in a storm of icy shards. When the vision faded, a lone tennis ball rolled slowly by the wall.

”Game! Second String Selection! 5-4!”

”This match is already beyond your reach!” Atobe sneered at Mōri and Ochi, his laughter ringing out boldly.