Prince of Tennis: The Emperor's Eye

Chapter 473: Chapter 152: Tezuka’s First Set Loss

When it came to Ultimate-Quality Q.P.—or perhaps ”God Q.P.”—Akashi’s analysis concluded that his strength had already reached professional level. In fact, he wasn’t far from Volk’s level. The only reason there was still a gap was because Volk’s five-dimensional attributes were absurdly high—even Akashi himself didn’t dare claim superiority over him in that regard.

From what Akashi observed during their exhibition match, Volk’s total five-dimensional value was definitely above 45, possibly even close to 50. Unfortunately, Volk hadn’t gone all out back then, so Akashi could only make an approximate estimate.

Even Byoudouin, after his breakthrough, had a total of around 40. Without risking his life and relying on the story’s progression, he never could have defeated Volk.

At this moment, Tezuka sat calmly on the player bench, his face showing no sign of frustration despite being on the verge of losing the set. He was trying to maintain a composed mindset—and he had already found a rough direction to do so.

From observing Q.P.’s earlier state, Tezuka suddenly realized something—it was the same as Yukimura’s Inspiration Tennis. There might be some subtle differences between the two, but in terms of mental state, they were nearly identical.

So now Tezuka kept recalling every detail of his past match with Yukimura. He didn’t miss a single moment—especially the scenes after Yukimura entered his Inspiration Tennis state, replaying them in his mind frame by frame like an animation.

The break ended quickly. In the twelfth game, it was Tezuka’s turn to serve again. As he stepped to the baseline, a dazzling blue radiance suddenly burst from his body, with countless azure particles swirling around him.

After calming his mind during the previous game, Tezuka was once again able to activate Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami. A gentle, familiar wave of energy spread outward from his body—it was the Radiance of Love.

”So, he’s already managed to awaken the Radiance of Love? Too bad—it’s still just a pointless struggle,” Q.P. said lightly from Germany’s side of the court.

But as soon as his words fell, another, completely different energy pulsed from Tezuka’s body. Q.P.’s composed expression vanished, replaced by shock. He knew that aura—it was the unique emotional wavelength of the Radiance of Pain.

Even Volk, sitting on Germany’s bench, looked astonished. He hadn’t expected Tezuka to activate both the Radiance of Love and the Radiance of Pain at the same time. Around the world, very few players had ever awakened two Radiances—and those who had awakened these two specific ones were almost nonexistent.

Of all the players Volk knew, only Q.P. had achieved it, and even then, only through a loophole. After all, the mental states required for those two Radiances were completely opposite. Awakening both simultaneously was unimaginably difficult.

While Q.P. and Volk were still reeling from the shock, a streak of blue light flashed past Q.P.’s side. A split second later, two nearly simultaneous impact sounds echoed across the court.

”Ace! 15–0!”

Since Akashi had already explained Q.P.’s situation in detail to him the previous night, Tezuka wasn’t foolish enough to activate the Radiance of Strong Heart directly in front of Q.P. For now, the Radiance of Pain was his only viable option.

Once he activated it, the two Radiances quickly fused together, and Tezuka’s power surged dramatically. As he unleashed that ultra-high-speed serve, a faint silhouette appeared behind him. On closer look, it was a projection of Tezuka himself.

Because he hadn’t activated the Radiance of Strong Heart, the manifestation of his will was somewhat hazy, but that didn’t affect his strength—it simply emphasized a different focus.

When Tezuka tossed the ball again, Q.P. had already regained his composure. His eyes locked firmly on Tezuka, knees bent low, body tensed and ready.

The sharp sound of the serve cracked through the air. The blue aura around Q.P. shimmered and scattered faintly as his figure blurred, moving like teleportation to the landing spot. With both hands gripping the racket, he swung hard at the rising ball.

At the moment of impact, a white shockwave burst outward, and the ball, wrapped in a streak of blue light, roared toward Japan’s court with overwhelming force.

Tezuka moved without hesitation, meeting the ball head-on. But in the next instant, his racket was blown from his grip, and his left wrist went completely numb, losing all feeling.

”15–15!”

”Huh? Weird... why does that expressionless guy’s aura feel even more like Tezuka’s now?” Kintarō muttered blankly from the bench.

”Could it be...?” Akashi’s eyes narrowed slightly as he murmured under his breath, ”If that’s true, then Q.P.’s little trick deserves a closer look.”

After retrieving his racket, Tezuka’s expression grew uncertain. The weight that had hit his racket just now wasn’t any weaker than a Glowing Shot—in fact, it might have even surpassed an ordinary one in sheer power.

But clearly, Q.P.’s powerful forehands hadn’t reached this level before. Could he have been hiding his true strength all along? Tezuka wasn’t sure, but he quickly moved back to the baseline, steadied his breathing, and tossed the ball high into the air.

Ever since his Zero Shiki Serve had been countered in the tenth game, Tezuka decided to stop using it. After all, that serve put too much strain on his arm, and he wasn’t the type to waste energy on something inefficient.

This serve was another ultra-high-speed shot performed under Ten’i Muhō no Kiwami. Unfortunately, with the Light of Pride reinforcing him, Q.P.’s speed and reaction time were not inferior—in fact, they might have even surpassed Tezuka’s.

Q.P. returned the serve with a backhand strike, and the sheer power behind it made it impossible for Tezuka to apply the rotation of the Ultimate Zone. From the sidelines, the Japan Team finally noticed that after activating both Radiances, Tezuka’s situation had somehow gotten even worse.

The two players then launched into another fierce rally. Tezuka gave up on trying to use the Ultimate Zone entirely, relying purely on skill and precision to fight back, while Q.P. used his overwhelming five-dimensional strength to suppress him by force.

As their exchange intensified, the entire court filled with dust and smoke. Many spectators couldn’t even see what was happening and grew increasingly anxious.

”30–15!”

After more than ten consecutive rallies, the umpire’s voice finally echoed through the stadium. It seemed Tezuka had taken the point. As the dust cleared, Tezuka stood tall, racket raised high, the ball resting just inside Q.P.’s baseline.

”So, you weren’t just awakening the Radiance of Pain just now, were you? It seems during the exhibition match, you were hiding nearly half your true power, Tezuka Kunimitsu,” Q.P. said flatly, showing no concern about losing that point.

”That was simply a necessary choice for the overall tournament,” Tezuka replied, which was rare for him.

Neither said another word. They both returned to their positions. Tezuka served again—his fourth of the game—and the rally reignited, both sides refusing to back down even a step.

But as the rally dragged on, Tezuka began to feel the mounting pressure. Q.P.’s returns grew heavier and heavier with every shot. At first, Tezuka could still deflect some of that power with skill, but now his grip was slipping, and he could barely hold his racket steady.

”30–30!”

Soon after, Q.P.’s shot sent Tezuka’s racket flying again. His breathing grew uneven, while Q.P. remained composed—calm, steady, not even a bead of sweat on his face.

”That guy Q.P.... he adapted to Tezuka’s dual Radiances in just a few rallies!” Oni said from Japan’s bench, disbelief in his voice.

”Oni... did you notice that Q.P.’s Light of Pride seems different from before? The change started right when Tezuka activated the Radiance of Pain,” Irie said, narrowing his eyes as he studied the court.

”Now that you mention it, yeah... but how’s that possible? Tezuka didn’t use the Radiance of Strong Heart, so Q.P. shouldn’t be able to absorb anything,” Oni said after realizing what Irie meant.

”If my guess is right,” Byoudouin said, his tone grave, ”when that kid Tezuka activated both the Radiance of Love and Radiance of Pain, Q.P.’s special Light of Pride—the one that absorbed those two Radiances—responded to it. It’s like a form of resonance between abilities.”

Byoudouin’s deduction wasn’t far from Akashi’s thoughts. Akashi had already begun suspecting that Q.P.’s special Light of Pride was reacting to Tezuka’s dual Radiances, granting him a temporary boost—since it originally contained both the Radiance of Love and Radiance of Pain.

While the others were still analyzing the situation, Q.P. found another opening. He caught Tezuka off-guard with a brutal forehand, and Tezuka couldn’t block it. Another point lost—bringing the match to set point.

”30–40!”

Even then, Tezuka’s expression stayed calm. Without hesitation, he tossed the ball again. As the sound of the serve cracked through the air, Q.P. moved instantly and sent back a powerful return.

Though Tezuka gave it everything he had, he couldn’t take the point. As the ball grazed past his feet, he let out a faint sigh in his mind—he knew it was over.

”Game! 7–5! First set complete! Winner—Germany! The total score is 1–0!”