Prince of Tennis: Shocking! Hyotei's Demon King is a Yukimura fangirl!

The laughter drowned out most of the noise in the venue, and the audience, who had been making a ruckus, gradually quieted down.

Everyone was stunned, and they all looked towards the Hyotei coaching bench.

Atobe leaned back in the coach's chair, his right leg crossed over his left, one hand on his forehead, his fingertip touching the beauty mark at the corner of his eye, the other hand resting on the armrest, his shoulders trembling slightly with laughter.

Her short, purplish-gray hair was a little messy from the wind, with a few strands sticking to her forehead, but she didn't look disheveled at all. Instead, she exuded a kind of unrestrained arrogance.

Even his most ordinary team uniform seemed to gain a dazzling edge along with his laughter.

The people in the stands looked at each other, somewhat bewildered. The murmurs resumed, but were much quieter than before, like the buzzing of mosquitoes.

"What's going on? What's wrong with the captain of Hyotei? Why is he laughing like that?"

"I don't know, but it's definitely not because he's happy. Could it be that he was provoked? Tezuka avoided the second singles match, he must be furious, right?"

"No way, Atobe Keigo is the young master of the Atobe Group. What kind of situation hasn't he seen? How could he go crazy so easily? He seems to be laughing quite happily."

"Happy my ass! They've been outmaneuvered by Tian Ji's horse racing strategy, and you're still happy? I think you're just out of your mind and giving up."

"No, no, look at him, he doesn't look angry at all. It's more like... he heard something really funny."

"Funny? What's so funny? Seigaku has already put Tezuka in second singles, and Hyotei's second singles player is Oshitari, right? Can Oshitari beat Tezuka? I don't think so."

"Who knows? Maybe they just think Seigaku is shameless and they're laughing in anger. Let me tell you, that's just how these people are—the angrier they get, the more they laugh. They're probably going to explode later."

"What do you know? This is called psychological warfare. Laughing first will make the other side panic..."

"Panic? I think it's just putting on a brave face. Since they can't win anyway, they might as well laugh a couple of times to save face. What else can they do, cry?"

"Come on, who does Atobe think he is? Does he need to smile to save face? He can't afford to lose face like that."

……

Various speculations flew around, becoming increasingly outrageous. Some said Atobe had gotten sick from anger, others said Hyotei had hidden an ace up their sleeve, and still others said Seigaku's formation was deliberately manipulated by Atobe.

Some people have even started discussing whether Atobe's beauty mark looks good when he smiles.

Seigaku was silent for several seconds as well.

Momoshiro, holding a heavy support banner, stood at the very front of the stands. He glanced towards Hyotei and felt a chill run down his spine. Turning to Oishi beside him, he said, "What's he laughing at...? His smile is giving me goosebumps. It's creepy."

Oishi unconsciously rubbed the edge of the bandage on his forearm with his fingertips, wanting to say something to ease the atmosphere, but looking at Atobe's appearance, he inexplicably began to feel uneasy, his brows furrowed, and he remained silent.

Kikumaru clung to the railing, blinked, and pressed the newly applied bandage on his face with his finger, making it slightly crooked. "He...he's not confused because Tezuka is avoiding him, is he?"

Fuji's eyes, which had been curved in a smile, opened slightly. His brown pupils reflected Atobe's flamboyantly smiling face. A subtle glint flashed in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared, and he returned to his usual gentle demeanor.

Ryoma Echizen sat in the coach's chair, his hat pulled low, and muttered under his breath, "Tch, monkey king."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was just enough for Tezuka, who was standing nearby, to hear it.

Tezuka glanced at him sideways, his gaze behind his glasses remaining calm. Echizen Ryoma pursed his lips, turned back to look at the court, but his fingers unconsciously began to twirl the tennis ball.

The small yellow ball spun rapidly between his fingertips, much like his somewhat chaotic thoughts at that moment.

The people from Hyotei were also completely bewildered.

Shishido frowned and looked towards the coach's bench, ignoring the towel that had fallen from Ootori's hand. Jiro, still groggy, turned to look at Ootori and Shishido beside him, finally fixing his gaze on Mochizuki Ryo in the stands: "Atobe... what's wrong?"

Shinobu had already reached the sidelines and turned his head slightly upon hearing the laughter. His expression behind his glasses was unclear, but the lines of his profile were noticeably relaxed. He probably guessed something; the corners of his mouth subtly turned upwards, and even his grip on the racket became firmer.

At Rikkai University, Kirihara scratched his messy curly hair, his face full of confusion: "Is Atobe-senpai alright? Why are you smiling like that? I thought..."

"Would he flip the table?" Wang Yueling finished his sentence for him, a smile playing on her lips. "Keigo's extravagance would prevent him from doing something so undignified."

Sanada frowned and uttered, "To lose your composure in public, what kind of behavior is this?" Though he said this, his eyes held a probing look, unable to fathom the other's thoughts.

"Wait a minute, this laugh doesn't sound like anger. It's more like... pupina~" Niou rubbed his chin with his fingertips, his fox eyes narrowed slightly, staring at Atobe's direction for a few seconds, then suddenly curled his lips into a smile and gently nudged Yagyu beside him with his elbow, "Hiro~ do you believe it or not, the show is about to begin."

Yagyu pushed up his glasses, but followed his gaze and looked over as well, clearly thinking the same thing. "Judging from this, it seems like he expected this all along."

"Atobe's smile means he's not bothered." Liu pulled out a small pair of binoculars from somewhere, carefully studying Atobe's micro-expressions. His words carried a certain certainty. "A coach, or rather, a team captain, if their plans were truly disrupted by the opponent's formation, their first reaction would be to suppress their emotions and try to salvage the situation. They wouldn't smile like this. This kind of smile can only mean two things."

"Which two?" Marui asked.

"One is that they're completely hopeless and give up entirely. The other is..." Liu paused, looking at Atobe's standing figure, his probing expression deepening.

"Another possibility is that he was waiting for this game all along." Yukimura finished speaking for Yagyu, looked in Atobe's direction, then glanced at Mochizuki Ryo standing by the platform, a smile appearing in his eyes, understanding dawning on him.

He gently scratched Luna's chin with his fingertips. The kitten purred contentedly, its tail curling into a small circle, like a fluffy little question mark.

Hearing the familiar voice of "Xiangxiang," Luna's little ears twitched. The cat peeked half its head out from under Yukimura's arm, curiously glancing towards the Hyotei coaching bench. Its little paw, bandaged, rested on the edge of a bagel, scratching it excitedly, as if cheering for its good friend.

Yukimura reached out and stroked it from its little head to the tip of its tail. "You also think there's going to be some excitement, right?"

Luna watched for a while, then tilted her head and responded with a soft "meow".

Mochizuki Ryou walked to the edge of the stands, turned her head to look in Atobe's direction, her eyebrows slowly arched, and her eyes were filled with a knowing smile.

Amidst the murmurs of the crowd, Atobe laughed for a while before slowly stopping.

He slowly stood up, casually pulled the towel off his neck, and tossed it onto a chair. He raised his hand to straighten the collar of his team uniform, his fingertips gliding along the fabric with a fluid and graceful movement, every curve exuding an innate air of nobility.

Her short, purplish-gray hair was tousled just right by the wind, adding a touch of youthful energy.

Atobe looked up, his gaze passing over the net and landing directly on Tezuka, who was not far away.

"What?! Tezuka?"

He spoke in a clear voice, which carried a strong penetrating force through the air and clearly reached every corner of the venue, "You have truly opened my eyes."

Tezuka had just finished his activities and walked back to the Seigaku coaching bench when he paused, his hand holding the racket pausing for a moment.

He looked at Atobe, his gaze behind his glasses darkening slightly, his fingertips tightening a little, a fleeting hint of apology flashing across his eyes before quickly returning to their icy expression.

He knew that doing so was not honorable.

But for Seigaku's victory, he had no choice.

The silence that had enveloped the room at Atobe's words shattered instantly, and a buzzing murmur filled the air as everyone wondered what had happened to him.

"His description of it as 'eye-opening'...did Atobe already know that the Seigaku had arranged things this way?"

"That's impossible. The rosters are submitted by each team before the match; he couldn't possibly peek at them."

"Then what is he laughing at? Does he think Oshitari can beat Tezuka?"

"Oshitari beat Tezuka? You're dreaming."

"Then why would he be laughing like that..."

The discussion grew louder and louder.

Many people raised their phones, and the media outlets in the press section frantically snapped photos of Atobe. The members of the Hyotei support group exchanged bewildered glances, their golden fans hovering in the air, unsure whether to continue twirling.

Atobe stood there, listening to the endless chatter around him, his brow furrowed, and he shouted loudly:

"Shut up, you ignorant masses."

The volume wasn't loud, but as if by magic, the entire stadium fell silent for a full two or three seconds. That oppressive feeling, emanating from the very core of the stadium, abruptly silenced all sounds.

The surrounding chatter suddenly subsided by more than half.

Immediately afterwards, Atobe raised his right hand, snapped his thumb and middle finger together, and gave a crisp snap.

"Smack."

Crisp and clear, especially distinct in the sweltering air.

The remaining whispers vanished instantly. The entire area was so quiet that you could hear the wind rustling through the netting.

Everyone held their breath, watching the short, purplish-gray-haired boy on the Hyotei coaching bench, waiting for his next words.

Atobe looked up at Mochizuki Ryo in the stands, a smile playing on his lips, and said in a voice loud enough for the entire stadium to hear: "Mochizuki Ryo, you won."

When Mochizuki Ryo submitted the roster, he mentioned that Ryuzaki Kin would definitely place Tezuka in the second singles, playing a game of strategic horse racing. At the time, he thought the other party was underestimating Tezuka's pride.

In retrospect, he overestimated Seigaku's bottom line, and Tezuka Kunimitsu's...

Before anyone could figure out the meaning of his words, Atobe turned his head again, his gaze sweeping over the referee's table. His tone carried an undeniable forcefulness, yet strangely convincing: "Referee."

The referee, sitting on his high chair, was a little dazed by the laughter earlier and startled by the snap of his fingers. He instinctively picked up the megaphone. Now, feeling inexplicably flustered under Atobe's gaze, he wiped the sweat from his brow, his hand holding the microphone trembling slightly.

He cleared his throat and subconsciously read out the procedure, his voice carrying throughout the entire arena through the loudspeaker: "Now we are proceeding with the Kanto Tournament group stage, Seishun Academy vs. Hyotei Academy, singles match number two."

"Seigaku player, Tezuka Kunimitsu."

"Hyotei player..."

Everyone pricked up their ears, waiting for the words "Yuushi Oshitari".

The referee paused, looked down and checked the starting lineup again, then glanced at the boy on the Hyotei coaching bench who was unzipping his jacket.

The moment the referee opened his mouth, Atobe curled his lips into a smile, casually tossing his jacket into the air with a stylish flourish.

Before anyone could react, the gray-white coat unfurled in mid-air, flipped against the sunlight, and traced a beautiful arc, landing precisely on the head of Shinobu, who had walked to the sidelines, completely covering him.

Renji stopped in his tracks, reached down and pulled off the coat covering his head, adjusted his glasses which had been knocked askew, shook his head with a helpless smile, and retreated to the sidelines with the coat in his arms.

Then there was another snap of the fingers.

Atobe walked from the coach's bench to the center of the court, his chin slightly raised, his beauty mark gleaming in the sunlight, exuding the aura of a born king. His clear voice, carrying his usual arrogance and haughtiness, drowned out the referee's announcement and drifted into everyone's ears on the wind.

"Hyotei player, Atobe Keigo."

"Hyotei! Follow me and let's march into the national tournament!"

After Atobe finished speaking, he turned his head to look at Tezuka on the other side of the net, a confident smile playing on his lips.

The afternoon sun shone on him, gilding him with a golden edge. The young man stood tall and proud, as if he were born to stand in the most dazzling place.

After he finished speaking, the entire room fell into a deathly silence.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

The Hyotei supporters in the stands were the first to react, instantly erupting in deafening shouts. Their chants rose in waves, the golden sea of ​​light surging, and the shouts shook the stands.

"Atobe! Atobe!! Atobe!!!"

"The winner is Atobe!! The winner is Atobe!!!"

"Hyotei will win!!!"

Waves of cheers surged in, drowning out the cheers from Seigaku; drowning out the murmurs from the stands; drowning out all the fantasies of seeing Hyotei make a fool of themselves.