Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 336: Chapter 15: The Tennis God’s Opportunity

”This is bad! Q.P. was already that strong without Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami, and now that he’s opened it... will Tezuka and Mitsuya-senpai lose?” Kirihara immediately grew anxious on the sidelines.

”This is what it means to face a world-class powerhouse. Don’t get too full of yourself, brat,” Byoudouin shot Kirihara a glance before turning his eyes back to the court.

With the Light of Pride blazing, Q.P. tossed the ball high. His left hand swung down, and a beam of yellow light streaked past Mitsuya’s face, whipping his long hair into the air.

”Ace! 15–0!”

”Serve speed: 271 kilometers! Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami erosion rate: 3.7%! Even Concentration Burst can’t resist it completely?” Mitsuya ignored his hair and instead reported the numbers in a grave tone.

When Q.P. was about to serve, Mitsuya had already predicted the general trajectory. But by the time he tried to burst into motion, the ball was already at his side. That could only mean the radiance of Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami had begun eroding him without his notice.

Even as Mitsuya reeled from that realization, Q.P. had already served again. Mitsuya reacted this time, but his delayed movement skewed his calculations. In the end, he still couldn’t intercept the ball.

”Erosion rate: 8.1%! Faster than I expected! This isn’t just ordinary Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami!” Mitsuya frowned, pushing his computation power to the max.

”Ace! 30–0!”

The third serve came screaming in. Mitsuya moved before Q.P. even swung, finally intercepting the ball right before it went out of bounds. But the weight on his racket shattered his data model again.

”Baseline center probability: 89.6%! Damn... this weight is—” Mitsuya’s racket flew from his grip in less than two seconds.

”Ace! 40–0!”

”Erosion rate: 13.4%! If I try to force a return, wrist injury probability... 100%!” Mitsuya picked up his racket, his expression dark. With the Light of Pride active, Q.P.’s five attributes had surged far beyond his estimates.

”You alright, Mitsuya-senpai?” Tezuka’s eyes held a trace of concern.

”Don’t worry, I’m not that easy to injure. From those three serves, I’ve more or less figured out his Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami. It’s unbelievable, but now I understand why people call him Quality of Perfect,” Mitsuya shook his head at Tezuka, signaling he was fine.

Inside though, Mitsuya felt bitter. For a data tennis player like him, the worst opponent was one whose five attributes outclassed his own across the board. His own stats, forged through grueling training, were top ten even among the First String, stronger than many specialists.

But his opponent was Q.P., the pinnacle product of Germany’s elite tennis program, flawless in every aspect. In comparison, Mitsuya was crushed completely. Worse still, Q.P. was also skilled in data tennis. Mitsuya’s greatest advantage was blunted. Even if he was slightly better with data application, it didn’t matter.

Q.P. gave him no time for reflection. He tossed the ball again, unleashing a thunderous serve that combined speed and power. This time Mitsuya was fully ready, gripping the racket with both hands to finally return the serve.

All four players burst into motion. Tezuka didn’t summon the Ultimate Zone—he knew that just using Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami alone, he couldn’t beat Q.P. head-on. Instead, he chose to coordinate with Mitsuya.

With the Light of Pride, Q.P. was simply too strong. His overwhelming five attributes were starting to suppress both Tezuka and Mitsuya. Fran, finally freed from most of the pressure, could now fully cooperate with Q.P.

During this, Tezuka gradually began to cast off unnecessary thoughts, focusing only on the tennis itself. He followed Mitsuya’s calls, returning every ball that came his way with all his effort.

Thanks to Tezuka’s Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami neutralizing some of it, the Light of Pride’s erosion on Mitsuya was eased. That allowed him to use his vast data to anticipate Q.P.’s moves and barely hold on, preventing their side from losing points too quickly.

But in the rallies, Q.P. saw through Mitsuya’s patterns and calculated how much data he had. Eventually, he caught Mitsuya on a small opening and used a sharp baseline drive to take the eighth game.

”Game! Germany! 4–4!”

The ninth game brought no improvement. Though Mitsuya had corrected much of his data and could predict nearly every shot, it wasn’t enough to make up for the vast difference in their attributes.

The only silver lining was that Tezuka seemed to enter a selfless state. Their coordination shifted into Mitsuya fully supporting Tezuka, with the Ultimate Zone once again proving hard to deal with.

A subtle change flickered in Tezuka’s Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami, drawing Q.P.’s attention. But with nothing conclusive yet, Q.P. quickly refocused on the match.

”Game! Germany! 5–4!”

Japan seemed cornered, but the spectators weren’t surprised. In fact, just seeing them take four games off Q.P. made everyone reevaluate their strength.

The tenth game was Fran’s serve. He wasted no time and sent the ball flying, knowing full well that he no longer mattered much here—their only hope lay in Q.P.

Mitsuya, however, deliberately dragged out the game, directing all shots at Fran and clearly avoiding Q.P. It wasn’t pretty, but Mitsuya didn’t care.

”15–0!”

”15–15!”

”30–15!”

”40–15!”

Even with Mitsuya stalling, the match still reached match point. Yet Tezuka wore a rare smile, startling the Japan middle schoolers so much they forgot about the game, as if they had seen a ghost.

Just as Fran was about to serve, a gentle ripple spread from Tezuka’s body and washed over the court. Volk’s eyes flickered—he knew exactly what this meant for Tezuka.

”So that’s it. A pure love for tennis?” Tezuka exhaled deeply. The cyan particles around him softened into a gentle light that spread across his half of the court.

But before his words faded, Fran had already launched a cannon-like serve. Tezuka flashed to the landing spot, twisting his left wrist to drive the ball back.

”So you’ve awakened the Radiance of Love? I didn’t expect that. But the winner of this match will still be Germany!” Q.P. appeared instantly at the net, slamming the return with full power.

Tezuka moved to intercept, but in that instant, a phantom of himself appeared behind him, its features clear and its cyan glow violently surging. Tezuka instinctively stopped.

”Game! 6–4! Match over! Winner, Germany!”

”That just now...!” Volk suddenly stood, his face stripped of composure as his eyes locked onto Tezuka, who had just lost. Shock filled his gaze.

”So it really succeeded? Welcome to the professional threshold, Tezuka!” Akashi’s eyes shone faintly with joy. He had always believed in Tezuka’s talent, but seeing him truly awaken all three radiances made Akashi silently marvel.

”Nanjirō... at last, a descendant has taken the same path as you—to become a god!” Mifune’s eyes gleamed with brilliance.

As Tezuka and Mitsuya left the court, the third match was about to begin. The crowd suddenly erupted in thunderous cheers. On Germany’s bench stood none other than the world’s strongest active professional, Volk, along with his brother, doubles professional Bertie!

On Japan’s bench, Akashi slowly picked up his racket and rose to his feet. The sight made everyone’s eyelids twitch—no one expected Akashi to step onto the court himself. This third match was going to be a true clash of titans.

Byoudouin considered stepping up as well, but a playful voice spoke beside him:

”Rock, paper, scissors! Look to your left! Ara~ you lost! So how about letting me take this one, Byoudouin?”

The voice caught him so off guard that Byoudouin instinctively glanced left. By the time he realized the trick, Tanegashima was already striding toward Akashi. The two of them walked side by side to the edge of the court.