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"That's not right..."

Even after stepping off the court, Muromachi Juji was still confused. He counted on his fingers, "In the qualifiers, he defeated Sugiyama with a baseline counter-attacking style, yesterday he defeated Kita with a high-ball style, and today he defeated me with a net volley style?"

The more he thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong.

Including himself, three people from Yamabuki have faced Takahiro Kabaji in all three matches. In each of those matches, Kabaji defeated them using their most effective fighting styles.

"Is it because he's naturally good at different playing styles, or...?"

An unbelievable thought flashed through Muromachi Juji's mind, but he quickly shook his head and denied it.

He chuckled derisively: "How is that possible? To learn your opponent's tactics on the spot during a match and then defeat them? How could such a thing possibly happen in this world?"

However, after returning to the Yamabuki squad.

When he saw that Kitahara Akira's draw for the afternoon's match was Kabaji Takahiro, Muromachi Juji couldn't help but ask the question that had been bothering him.

"Kazuma, Sugiyama, you've also played against Kabaji before. Did you notice anything unusual during the race?"

"Strange? To be honest, something is definitely not right..."

Muromachi Juji's words stirred up Kita Kazuma's memories. He had a great time in yesterday's match; few people would be willing to fight him for so long. But after thinking about it carefully, he felt that something was off.

He initially thought it was just his imagination, but now that he heard Muromachi had a similar feeling, and recalling yesterday's match, he suddenly discovered the key point.

"He could beat me without even hitting high balls, but he insists on rallies with me. Isn't that strange?"

Kita Kazuma looked thoughtful, a hint of confusion in his voice, "Even to conserve strength, very few people would do that..."

"Me too!"

Sugiyama, who was standing nearby, also raised his hand, indicating that he felt the same way.

"He's imitating your style of play," Sengoku chimed in, picking up where the others left off.

"imitate?"

Muromachi Juji was slightly taken aback. He hadn't expected Sengoku-senpai to come to such a conclusion, and then said, "Impossible, right?"

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"Imitating your opponent's playing style during a match? That kind of thing..."

"It's hard to believe, but that must be it." Sengoku shook his head, interrupting him.

His face, which was always smiling, now showed a hint of solemnity.

He said, "There are indeed many players with similar playing styles, and many players also possess multiple different playing styles at the same time."

"But just as no two leaves in the world are exactly alike, no matter how similar the playing styles are, everyone's playing style will have something unique to them."

"But on Kabaji Takahiro..." Sengoku paused, looked at Muromachi Juji, and continued, "I only saw your things."

"The slight erratic movement of the first step when alternating between the left and right feet while approaching the net, and the excessive forward lean of the body when volleying due to insufficient arm length..."

These tiny details, which should have been uniquely yours, were all reproduced in Kabaji Takahiro's online attack.

"But...!?"

"Don't doubt my eyes." Sengoku was unusually serious.

Muromachi Juji instinctively wanted to retort, but seeing Sengoku's unusually serious expression, he shut his mouth.

In Sengoku's eyes, he saw confidence in his own dynamic vision, and also disbelief arising from that confidence.

Muromachi refused to believe it ten times, but Sengoku's arguments were something he couldn't refute.

How could there be such a monster?

He only watched someone else play once, and then he learned the playing style that he had mastered since he was six years old, rain or shine, and with countless drops of sweat.

Kitahara Akira listened to the entire process from the sidelines.

My first reaction was to question it.

Like Muromachi Juji, he also believed that learning an opponent's fighting style after only watching it once was simply too far-fetched.

But he quickly realized what was happening.

This is the world of Prince of Tennis, where professional players can smash through walls with a single ball. In the bizarre videos I saw in my previous life, there were even divine beings who could manipulate the heavens and the earth and stand atop the clubhouse.

Compared to them.

Learning an opponent's fighting style after just one look seems a bit too simplistic.

If the laws of heaven and earth could be replicated, that would be truly outrageous!

Kitahara Akira glanced at Hyotei's camp and a thought popped into his mind: Could that guy really do something like that?

He lowered his head, a slight smile playing on his lips, amused by his own thoughts.

Is there even a question? Of course not.

Otherwise, there would be no need to play in rookie tournaments here; they could just go straight to the professional scene.

"Sengoku is right, that kid did indeed imitate Muromachi's style of play."

When everyone was unwilling to believe it, Banla spoke up to support Sengoku's judgment, adding, "That child may seem dull, but he actually has a pure heart that most people don't have."

As he spoke, a flicker of emotion appeared in the old man's eyes.

In the decades he has coached, although he had heard of similar players, he had never actually seen one. He never expected that Hyotei would have such a player.

"People with a childlike heart are often pure and innocent, like a blank sheet of paper on which you can draw freely."

"In a match, I'm like a child. No matter what move I see, I subconsciously try to imitate it. Because my mind is as clear as a mirror, I can naturally reproduce my opponent's moves."

"If that's the case, then he's invincible?"

Ban-ro's words shocked the Yamabuki group. If their fighting style was learned by others, wouldn't those techniques they had painstakingly studied to defeat their opponents be turned against them?

This monster is Kitahara's opponent in the next match.

"If the opponent learns Kitahara's serve..." The Yamabuki members looked at Kitahara Akira with worry.

Can he receive his serve?

Banlao also squinted and smiled as he looked at Kitahara Akira. Although he had ways to deal with this type of player, he was more interested in seeing what the other party would do.

Sengoku once mentioned to him Kitahara Akira's efforts to make a career a goal.

For professional players, skill is important, but the ability to quickly adapt to and find solutions when facing unfamiliar opponents is sometimes even more important.

"Because on the path of a professional, besides unconventional geniuses like Takahiro Kabaji with his pure heart, there are other powerful opponents with various unique abilities."

If you want to challenge the world, you must first explore and adapt to it yourself.

of course.

There was once a person who chose to make the world adapt to him.

......

At 2 PM, both stadiums started playing simultaneously.

Upper bracket: Kitahara Akira vs. Kabaji Takahiro.

Lower bracket: Kirihara Akaya vs. Hiyoshi Waka.

Hyotei University, with its single-school strength, launched a challenge against both Rikkai University and Yamabuki University.

Both stadiums are generating a lot of buzz.

On one side, the perennial runner-up of the Kanto region faces off against the true king of Kanto.

On the other hand, some busybodies noticed that two of the three Yamabuki members who passed the preliminaries were eliminated by Takahiro Kabaji, who was a complete Yamabuki killer, and now they had run into the last Yamabuki member.

Will Hyotei successfully defy its superiors, or will Rikkai reign supreme?

Will Tokyo's top heavy hitter put an end to the rumors, or will Takahiro Kabaji solidify his reputation as the Yamabuki Killer?

The match began quickly.

The cheers from the stands in both stadiums were astonishing, with a huge number of supporters on each side.

......

"The semifinals of the Fall Newcomer Tournament are about to begin, with Akira Kitahara from Yamabuki Middle School facing off against Takahiro Kabaji from Hyotei Academy."

"Please welcome both players to the stage."

As the referee's voice faded, Kitahara Akira took off his long-sleeved jacket and placed it on the bench by the court. He then picked up his tennis racket, wearing a thin white wristband on each wrist.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire audience.

He gripped his racket and slowly walked onto the court.

He has a tall and straight figure, handsome features, fair skin, and smooth, almost perfect muscle lines.

Kitahara Akira's gaze swept across the stands, where he saw two figures, one in pink and the other in silver-gray.

Momoi Satsuki waved at him, her mouth forming the shape of a cheer, while Akutsu remained expressionless, his eyes holding a scrutinizing gaze.

He raised his hand and waved at them.

On one hand, I'm grateful for Momoi Satsuki's information, and on the other hand, I'm trying to gain some goodwill from Akutsu so that I can recruit her into the club later.

"Kitahara!...Kitahara!..."

"Yamabuki will win!"

On the Yamabuki side, the tennis club flag was waved, and the red flag embroidered with gold thread was placed in the stands and waved, with cheers rising higher and higher.

"Victory belongs to Hyotei!"... "Victory belongs to Hyotei!"...

Hyotei was not to be outdone, and their enthusiastic cheers instantly drowned out Yamabuki's, but Yamabuki quickly raised her voice as well.

In terms of overall tennis club strength, Hyotei is inferior to Rikkai.

But in terms of support team lineup, Hyotei is definitely the best in Kanto, and no school in the whole country can compare. If it weren't for the fact that we need to fight in two places today, how could Yamabuki possibly compete with them?

The referee raised his hand.

"One game to decide the winner!"

"Akira Kitahara's serve."

shuh~

The ball was tossed high into the air, its pale yellow color spinning in the sunlight as it rose into the sky. At its highest point, it paused for a moment, and everyone's eyes were fixed on the ball.