Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 471: Chapter 150: The Perfect Elite QP

On the other side, Tezuka sat quietly on the bench, lost in silence. His mind drifted back to the guidance he’d received from the old man at Rokkaku. He still remembered those words clearly — that to truly merge the three Radiances, the most crucial element was one’s mental state.

The three forms of Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami were each born from a player’s inner state of mind, unique to their emotions and awareness. To unite all three into one, the heart itself had to evolve — to reach enlightenment, to break through illusion, and to awaken true understanding.

That was why, during this period, aside from his usual training, Tezuka had spent most of his time in quiet meditation or fishing by the riverside to temper his spirit. This practice had deepened his comprehension of the three Radiances, yet there still remained a thin, unbreakable barrier keeping them from full union.

The break ended while Tezuka was still reflecting. When both players returned to the court, a flicker of hesitation flashed in Tezuka’s eyes, but it vanished the next moment, replaced by resolve. Picking up a ball and testing its bounce, he tossed it high and swung firmly.

QP watched calmly as Tezuka launched another Zero Shiki Serve. Just like before, he didn’t move an inch. He simply stood there, watching as the ball landed, spun, and rolled gently toward the net.

”Ace! 15–0!”

”What’s with that guy... is he deliberately giving Tezuka points?” Sanada muttered irritably from Japan’s bench, frowning.

”I don’t know what QP’s planning,” Yukimura replied coolly, glancing at Sanada’s tense expression. ”But right now, it’s working in our favor.”

”Tch. He’s being far too careless,” Sanada grumbled, clearly annoyed. It wasn’t that he minded Tezuka scoring — he just couldn’t stand QP’s attitude.

While they spoke, Tezuka fired off three more Zero Shiki Serves in a row. QP remained motionless at the baseline, making no attempt to return any of them. The audience began murmuring restlessly, and soon, the dissatisfied shouts started spreading through the stands.

”Game! Japan leads! 3–5!”

As QP prepared to serve next, the rising noise from the crowd grew louder. He frowned slightly, tossed the ball aside, and turned toward the umpire’s chair.

”Are you not going to control the crowd?” QP said coldly. ”If you, as the umpire, can’t even handle something this basic, then what’s the point of continuing this match, OK?”

The umpire froze under the weight of QP’s sharp tone, sweat breaking across his forehead. Snapping back to his senses, he quickly called for silence, and the arena fell quiet again.

”He actually scolded the umpire... right to his face?” Fuji said in disbelief, his eyes wide open.

”According to rumors and the data Akashi-kun provided,” Inui said while adjusting his glasses and flipping through his notebook, ”QP’s been that way since childhood. For the sake of victory, he’d abandon anyone — even the mentor who first taught him tennis.”

’When did I ever give you such ridiculous data? As if I wouldn’t know the details between QP and Ken... Seriously, where do you even get these rumors from?’ Akashi thought silently, glancing sideways at Inui with visible exasperation.

Back on the court, QP tossed up the ball again. The next serve exploded forward, and the two resumed their fierce rally. But Tezuka soon realized something alarming — each of QP’s returns was gradually growing stronger, faster, heavier. It was as if he had only been warming up until now.

Before long, Tezuka was struggling just to keep pace. His returns grew slower, and the pressure on his left wrist increased sharply with every shot. He barely had time to breathe, much less counterattack. Inevitably, QP broke through his defense once more.

”15–0!”

QP’s face remained impassive as he tossed another ball into the air. He showed no intention of holding back. Ball after ball, he unleashed relentless, crushing strokes, the impact numbing Tezuka’s arm.

”30–0!”

”40–0!”

”Game! Germany! 4–5! Change sides!”

”To think he could push Tezuka this far... It seems that in the exhibition match, he wasn’t even serious at all!” Krauser muttered from Japan’s bench, staring in disbelief at the battered Tezuka on the court. In all their practice matches so far, he had never managed to defeat Tezuka once.

Yet now, the same Tezuka—someone Krauser believed was second only to Akashi within the team—was being completely suppressed, surviving only by relying on his Zero Shiki Serve to maintain a fragile lead. The sight left Krauser utterly shaken.

”As Germany’s No. 2 player, having this level of strength isn’t strange,” Tachibana said calmly. ”What I don’t understand is why Tezuka is still only using the Radiance of Strong Heart. He’s already awakened the other two, hasn’t he?”

”Maybe it’s just my imagination, but QP’s Ten’i Muhō feels... different,” Chitose murmured, eyes narrowing as he studied the German player who had just returned to the bench. ”It’s like he’s walking a completely different path from us.”

When Tezuka sat back down, his eyes remained closed in thought—until Coach Mifune’s rough voice cut through his concentration. Tezuka looked up instinctively.

”That German brat’s calm to a terrifying degree,” Mifune said with a low chuckle. ”He’s like a machine—no hesitation, no emotion. That kind of mental state isn’t something a normal person can reach, eh, Tezuka boy?”

”Machine... calm... state of mind...” Tezuka repeated softly, the words echoing in his head. It felt like he’d just caught hold of something important.

Unfortunately, the short break ended before he could think it through. As both players returned to the court, Tezuka’s gaze unconsciously followed QP.

Mifune was right. QP had remained eerily calm from start to finish. His face betrayed no emotion, his eyes focused only on the ball and his opponent. Watching him, Tezuka felt an odd sense of déjà vu—as though he’d seen that exact state somewhere before.

He quickly pushed the thought aside. There was no time for distraction. If he could just hold this serve, he’d win the first set. With quiet focus, he tossed the ball and swung.

The sharp sound of impact echoed as the ball sped toward Germany’s half. Just when everyone assumed QP would once again stand motionless, his figure suddenly flashed forward to the front court.

Eyes locked on the ball, he didn’t swing immediately. He waited until the ball’s spin peaked, then swept his racket sideways in one smooth motion. The instant the strings met the ball, it shot toward the net like a bullet.

Japan’s players let out a collective breath of relief—they’d thought for a moment that QP might actually return it cleanly. But the next second, their faces froze. What happened next defied logic.

The ball’s trajectory rose instead of dropping. It struck near the top of the net, spun violently, and—impossibly—started to climb. Under everyone’s stunned gaze, it rolled over the net and landed softly on Japan’s court.

”0–15!”

”Impossible... he actually found a way to break the Zero Shiki Serve!” Yukimura stood up abruptly, disbelief written across his face.

”He used the same Zero Shiki spin to counter it...” Fuji said slowly, equally astonished. ”So this is the true skill of Germany’s QP?”

”Perfectly executed, Bluebird,” Ken murmured with a smile from Germany’s bench. ”When your opponent believes victory is in their grasp, that’s when you strike hardest. Tezuka Kunimitsu’s heart must be shaken right now. Without composure, he won’t be able to summon the Light of Pride for a while.”

——————

”Game! Spain leads! 4–0!”

Meanwhile, at the Spain versus America match, Hopkins was being crushed effortlessly by Mares. Even though Hopkins could trigger his opponent’s past injuries, Mares’s pinpoint placement left him no room to fight back.

”Though I prefer doubles, a little singles match every now and then isn’t bad either~” Mares said cheerfully, blowing a kiss toward Hopkins before walking back to the baseline.

The faces of the American team members were grim. None of them had expected their ace, Hopkins, to be humiliated so thoroughly. His trembling left hand said it all—he was barely holding on.

”That guy Mares is toying with him. Let’s hope he doesn’t screw it up at the end,” Rodrigo muttered from Spain’s bench, frowning.

”Come on, Rodrigo~ You should show a little faith in your teammate,” Julio said with a bright grin. ”You of all people know how strong Mares really is.”

”Whatever,” Medanoré said flatly. ”As long as they finish off the American team quickly, that’s all that matters.”