Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 333: Chapter 12: Data Showdown

Toono’s words pulled everyone’s focus back to the court. Tezuka was already standing at the baseline, calmly taking a ball from the side and staring across at Q.P. with an unusually steady gaze.

The next second, Tezuka tossed the ball and swung with his left hand. At the moment of impact, he added heavy spin. The ball crossed the court at a steady speed, neither fast nor slow, heading toward the backcourt.

Q.P. was a little surprised at the serve’s pace, but he still flashed to the spot. He prepared to return, but instead of bouncing as expected, the ball spun in place for a moment and rolled backward.

”Zero Shiki Serve!”

”Ace! 15–0!”

For a few seconds, the crowd sat stunned. None of them had ever seen such a bizarre serve. Even though they had already witnessed Tezuka’s Zero Shiki Drop and Zero Shiki Smash, the Zero Shiki Serve shocked them on a whole new level.

For the first time, Q.P.’s face showed surprise, though it quickly returned to calm. Still, the emotions in his eyes stirred violently—because this serve was practically unreturnable.

”Bertie... are you sure that guy’s a junior high student?” Bismarck asked in disbelief.

”The tournament registration can’t be wrong. But this serve... it’s already beyond the limits of my data analysis,” Bertie admitted, clearly shaken by the gap in his intel.

”With just this serve alone, he could hold his own in professional matches,” Volk said seriously, casting Tezuka a deep look.

While the German team was still reeling, Tezuka tossed another ball. The same steady speed, but Q.P. didn’t dare relax. He focused completely, eyes locked on the ball as it dropped.

At the instant it bounced, Q.P. swept his racket across. But the moment of contact told him something was wrong. The spinning ball suddenly shot off at a strange angle, struck the net, and dropped dead.

”Ace! 30–0!”

”Even Q.P. can hardly deal with a serve like that. Luckily this is doubles,” Bismarck muttered, a vague sense of unease rising in his chest as he glanced at the Japan Team.

The next two serves were the same. Tezuka unleashed Zero Shiki Serves again. Q.P. tried two different methods to counter, but both failed—one ended in a fault, the other in a mis-hit.

”Fault shot! 40–0!”

”Game! Japan! 2–1!”

With four Zero Shiki Serves, Tezuka secured the third game. Everyone on the Japan Team had expected this, but they still couldn’t stop themselves from cheering. The crowd erupted, chanting Tezuka’s name as loudly as they had when Q.P. first appeared.

In the fourth game, it was Q.P.’s turn to serve. He looked completely unaffected by the last game as he stepped to the baseline and blasted out a lightning-fast serve that landed squarely on the center line.

The ball barely bounced before Mitsuya intercepted it. His eyes flashed sharply as he swung a quick diagonal return toward the sideline.

Fran chased it down, eyes instinctively locking onto Tezuka’s right backcourt. He swung and drove the ball across. Just as it was about to land where he had aimed, Mitsuya’s voice rang out:

”Downspin probability, 87%! Double net attack probability, 94%!”

Mitsuya suddenly burst out from behind Tezuka, flicking the ball upward. Q.P.’s pupils shrank as he watched the ball arc in a parabola and land hard on the baseline before bouncing out of bounds.

”0–15!”

”Thanks for that last game, Tezuka-kun,” Mitsuya said with a smile after scoring.

”Have you finished collecting your data, Mitsuya-senpai?” Tezuka asked calmly.

”Data can never be fully collected. But from here, I can still make an impact. ’Give it everything you’ve got’—that’s what you want to say, right, Tezuka-kun?” Mitsuya smiled, his words making Tezuka’s face tighten ever so slightly.

By now Q.P. had returned to the baseline. That last rally told him the truth—the high schooler on the other side had already grasped real-time data on both him and Fran. From here on, it was going to be a battle of data.

Thinking this, Q.P. didn’t hesitate. He tossed the ball again and smashed with full force, the ball flying across the court with blazing speed and crushing power.

”Left side, ten o’clock direction, angle forty-eight point six! Ball speed two hundred thirty-four kilometers!” Mitsuya had already moved to the spot, calmly announcing the serve’s data as he returned it with ease. At the same time, he directed Tezuka’s positioning, and Tezuka followed without objection.

But Q.P. seemed to have predicted Mitsuya’s return path. He flashed forward and countered with a backhand, the ball streaking crosscourt like light.

”Crosscourt probability, eighty-three point seven percent! The spin will shift the racket face angle!” Mitsuya called out while intercepting the ball, his wrist flicking rapidly as he adjusted each stroke.

Then began a fierce duel of extreme prediction. Q.P. and Mitsuya not only anticipated each other’s shots but also constantly directed their partners’ movement. The ball flashed back and forth, darting across both sides of the court.

To the crowd, the match looked bizarre—like the four players had rehearsed beforehand. Their teamwork was so precise it seemed like they were deliberately feeding each other balls.

But the strange balance didn’t last long. Q.P.’s body suddenly stiffened, the ball shooting past him. Fran tried to cover, but it was already too late.

”0–30!”

”That was your doing?” Q.P. asked heavily, staring at Mitsuya.

”Oh? Looks like you’ve been collecting my data all along~” Mitsuya adjusted his glasses and answered mildly.

Q.P. said nothing more, just gave him a deep look before turning back to the baseline. A flood of data streams had just surged through his mind, countless calculations overwhelming his focus for a moment.

As soon as Q.P. tossed the next ball, Mitsuya was already sprinting toward the back corner. The instant the serve landed, Mitsuya was there to return it cleanly.

From the view of Akashi’s Emperor Eye, Mitsuya’s strokes were strangely complex—dozens of unnecessary motions in a single instant, none actually tied to his return. It was clear now: Mitsuya was feeding data back at Q.P.

Q.P. wasn’t a pure data tennis player, but his natural high IQ allowed him to instinctively collect and organize data in real time, then use it to build strategies. His use of data came from a layout perspective, not from building models and simulations like Mitsuya. And so, in their exchanges, Q.P. couldn’t help but be shaken by Mitsuya’s overwhelming stream of data.

Soon Q.P. froze again. Tezuka seized the chance, sending back a lob. Fran rushed to cover, but when the ball bounced at the baseline, the spin made his eyes widen. Just as he feared, the ball rolled backward slowly a few times, then stopped dead.

”Zero Shiki Lob!”

”0–40!”

”How many kinds of spin shots do you even have?!” Fran finally snapped, his composure cracking.

”Don’t let their shots break your rhythm, Fran!” Q.P. barked, snapping him back into focus. Fran steadied himself again, regaining control.

Q.P. then unleashed another ultra-fast serve, and the game seemed ready to return to the same rhythm. But this time, a strange light flashed in his eyes. After four or five rallies, a surge of data once again flooded his mind.

Then, in the very next instant, all the data vanished. His movement slipped outside Mitsuya’s prediction. Facing Mitsuya’s passing shot, Q.P. suddenly bent low, flipping his left hand behind his back and making a bizarre, flexible return.

”A perfect body isn’t just speed and power. Flexibility is just as vital,” Volk said quietly, watching Q.P.’s strange posture.

Even so, Q.P.’s surprise shot didn’t score. Just as the ball skimmed past Tezuka, about to sail long, Mitsuya appeared out of nowhere on its path. He gripped the racket with both hands and ripped it hard.

The ball zipped between Q.P. and Fran, slammed into the backcourt, and bounced out. Neither Q.P. nor Fran had time to react.

”Game! Japan! 3–1!”

”Data stream interference probability, ninety-four point one percent! Reverse prediction strike probability, eighty-three point six percent! Mastering the layout isn’t something only you can do, Quality of Perfect,” Mitsuya said calmly, holding his follow-through as he spoke.