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

After saying that, he twirled the racket in his hand, his movements light and agile.

The afternoon sunlight, mixed with this provocation, peeked through the gaps in the clouds, shining brightly on the scoreboard, where the two white numbers "2-0" gleamed dazzlingly in the sunlight.

Without waiting for the other side to react.

Atobe turned and walked back to his service baseline, his footsteps landing firmly on the rubber court, as if nailed to the ground. A few strands of his short, purplish-gray hair were damp with sweat and clung to the side of his neck, but his shoulder line still maintained the taut curve of a champion.

Tezuka stood in front of the net, looking at the gray-white figure on the other side.

The lenses of his square glasses were backlit, obscuring the emotions in his eyes. He rubbed the handle of the racket between his fingertips; the rubber grip had absorbed some sweat and was slightly sticky.

He knew that Atobe's words were not just empty threats.

The anticipation and counter-attack of that last shot were all completed in advance. It had nothing to do with reaction, luck, coincidence, or speed; it was a straightforward and domineering declaration.

It was declared that this shot was useless against Atobe Keigo.

Was there a flaw in the attack?!

Tezuka quickly reviewed the slicing motion of the short ball in his mind, checking the angle of his wrist and the degree of racket face tilt one by one. A few seconds later, he regained his composure, adjusted his grip, and turned back to his receiving position.

His back remained ramrod straight.

The referee's whistle blew.

Atobe twirled the tennis ball between his fingers, glancing up at his opponent. The playfulness in his icy blue eyes had vanished, replaced by a focused intensity as if tempered by ice.

The ball is tossed, the knees are bent, and the racket is swung—the movements are executed in one smooth motion.

With a crisp "bang," a "Tannhäuser serve" whistled through the air with strong sidespin, landing even further off-center than in the previous game, heading straight for the backhand corner.

Tezuka took a step ahead, his racket face meeting the ball's trajectory, but the racket was two centimeters off, grazing the ball's edge.

"ACE. 15-0."

"That serve again! The lateral trajectory is completely unpredictable!"

"I can't believe I still can't touch Tezuka? That's ridiculous."

"Indeed, but Atobe's performance today is just too amazing, like he's on fire. He's having an incredible time!"

……

Kamio of Fudomine watched Atobe's flamboyant performance on the field, his shoe skipping a beat. He frowned, clicked his tongue, and said, "Tch, all he does is show off."

Kichihei Tachibana's gaze fell on the ball's trajectory as it landed, his tone deepening. "The spin on this ball has increased again. It's even more sidespin than in the first game, making it harder for Tezuka to find a hitting point."

Ibu stood behind, his lips barely moving. "No, no, if this continues, Tezuka's serve return will become increasingly passive... His backhand position is already limited, will forcing a large step to receive the ball... And how could he possibly predict the landing point of that Zero-style short ball... Unless Atobe's calculation of spin is accurate to the millisecond... That's terrifying... Tezuka's signature move has been broken just like that..."

"Fukashi." Kamio pressed his forehead, looking pained.

On the other side, in Shonan Castle, Aoi Hanamura rested her chin on her hand, her fingertip drawing an arc on her sketchbook. "This serve was definitely aimed at Tezuka's 'domain'."

"Really!" Ruo Ren, with a straw in her mouth, leaned forward to look at the curves on her notebook, shaking the drink bottle in her hand. "Coach, do you think Tezuka can adapt? It's already the third game, he can't keep not touching the ball, can he?"

"The adaptability of a genius should never be underestimated." Hanamura Aoi smiled, his gaze sweeping across the field. "But adaptability and the ability to win are two different things. The current situation is that even the zero-style short ball has been dismantled by the opponent in advance."

Kajimoto nodded in agreement, "Indeed, Atobe's serve has too high a margin for error. Even if he gets used to receiving it, the quality of his return shot probably won't be high, and he can come to the net to volley at any time."

In the St. Rudolph district, Mizuki's expression was somewhat grim, and she fanned herself faster. "Tanfield's serve is even more consistent than I expected. Zero errors, this doesn't seem like a move he just learned. And... he can even break through the Zero Style short ball in a minute... Just how much has Atobe grown? I'm really curious."

Yanagisawa leaned forward, a little apprehensive. "Mitsuki, does Tezuka still have a chance?"

"Of course." Mizuki glanced at him sideways, her fan swirling open. "That's Tezuka Kunimitsu on the field. He hasn't revealed all his cards yet. He won't lose so easily."

Upon hearing this, Yuta clung to the railing, his heart filled with mixed emotions. On one hand, he felt sorry that Captain Tezuka hadn't won any points yet, but on the other hand, he couldn't help but think that Atobe was indeed amazing.

In the Yamabuki Ward, the old man stopped fanning himself and nodded: "Good eyesight, good anticipation, good serve. This kid has a limitless future."

Sengoku whistled, "Impressive, impressive! Tezuka has truly met his match this time."

Tan Taichi's eyes sparkled: "Every shot was amazing! When is Tezuka-senpai from Seigaku going to counterattack?"

The old man fanned himself with a palm leaf fan, the speed of which was neither too fast nor too slow. "Don't rush," he said. "A genius's ability to adjust often lies in the span of one or two balls."

Akutsu leaned against the back railing, raised an eyebrow, glanced at Atobe, and then looked at the blond figure on the coach's bench, his clenched knuckles making a "crackling" sound.

Rikkai University.

Sanada watched the two players on the court, his knuckles gripping the railing with considerable force. "Not bad, your serve is very consistent, and you haven't relaxed just because you're in the lead."

"Zero failure rate, stability goes without saying." Liu said softly, putting away the speed meter in his hand, turning to a new page, his pen tip quickly tracing across the notebook, then his voice was low and clear, "Data updated now. This serve has a speed of 205 kilometers per hour, a sidespin angle of 43 degrees, and a landing point deviation of 2 centimeters. It's an improvement over the first game."

"The probability that the next ball will have the same lateral deviation as the previous ball is 100%."

"Senior, what do you mean?" Kirihara squatted in front of the railing, holding a canelé that he had only bitten halfway through without swallowing.

"It means..." Liu looked at him, his face covered in food, and felt quite annoyed. While explaining, she roughly cleaned the little seaweed off him. "Even if Tezuka anticipated the landing point, the quality of his return shot wouldn't hold up. After Atobe's serve, the next shot was received too quickly; Tezuka simply didn't have time to adjust his stance."

Marui, chewing on a mung bean cake with bulging cheeks, mumbled, "So, Atobe's got his eye on him, figuring he won't get a good return after the serve, and he'll just go to the net and wait?"

"Yes." Liu's pen flew across the paper, scribbling a few lines. "Of the four Tannhäuser serves in the first two sets, Tezuka was able to return them successfully zero times. That last shot was his closest attempt; clearly, he hasn't had enough time to adapt."

"Is that enough?" Sanada's voice came through, his gaze fixed on Tezuka on the field from under his hat brim, his expression dark. "We'll find out soon enough."

Kirihara finally escaped his senior's "care," his seaweed head sticking up in a mess. "No matter what, Atobe-senpai's shot was really strong... If I were up there, I would definitely miss it."

"You have to be able to catch it first before you can catch it." Niou said, leaning on Yagyu's shoulder, his silver braid swaying, his fox-like eyes showing a leisurely, watchful look. "Tezuka's tennis is no joke. Look... he's already shifting his weight forward."

Yagyu pushed up his glasses, a glint of light flashing in the lenses. "Looks like he's already roughly predicted where the ball will land and is planning to hit it during its rise."

Yukimura leaned back in his chair, his fingertips lightly resting on the side of the cat carrier. Luna was fast asleep inside, her soft purring vibrating like a tiny motor.

He looked up at Atobe's back in the middle of the field, a faint smile curving his lips.

"He's forcing Tezuka to use his final trump card prematurely."

On the second ball, Atobe again served Tannhäuser. The ball went extremely low over the net, landing five centimeters further out to the corner than in the previous two serves, making the angle even more tricky.

Tezuka stared at the ball's trajectory, not moving an inch, until the ball landed before he started walking back.

The cheers of the Hyotei supporters didn't even need to wait for the referee to announce the score; the sound of the golden fans swirling and the team's shouts drowned out all other sounds from the stands.

"ACE. 30-0."

Shiba Saori slammed her camera down on the chair in frustration, her voice full of dissatisfaction. "That's too much! Is that all Atobe can do with his serve? If you're so capable, try a baseline rally!"

Inoue knew she was angry and wouldn't listen. He sighed and didn't try to persuade her further. He understood that Atobe was clearly aiming to establish absolute dominance with his serve in this game, giving Tezuka no chance to breathe.

On the third ball, Atobe tossed the ball half a point lower than before.

It was this slight difference that made Tezuka make his move.

Almost at the same moment Atobe swung his racket, he turned sideways and stepped towards the predicted landing point, his steps faster than before, his racket slicing diagonally below and to the side of the ball.

At the moment of returning the ball, an extra layer of force was applied to the wrist to counteract the sidespin.

A muffled "bang" was heard.

The quality of this shot wasn't very high; the height was slightly too high, and the landing point was near the front zone, very shallow, just over the net line.

Atobe lunged at the net from his backhand position, his shoe sole scraping against the plastic surface with a short "sizzle".

The racket intercepted the bouncing ball at the net, the angle of the racket face downward was not large, but the landing point was precisely in the gap that Tezuka's forehand position could not reach at all.

"40-0".

"Tezuka finally received it!"

Someone shouted from the stands, followed by hushed whispers.

"I thought even Tezuka couldn't catch that ball from Atobe."

"The ball quality was just bad this time; it was practically giving away points."

"It's good that you were able to catch it; it means you've found your rhythm."

In the Seigaku stands, Momoshiro pumped his fist. "Good job, captain! Keep playing like that! Get used to it!"

Kikumaru excitedly clung to the railing, his curly hair swaying back and forth. "Yeah, once we get into the groove, we can fight back!"

Oishi breathed a sigh of relief, but his brow was still furrowed. When Tezuka stepped forward to catch the ball, the arc of his left arm looked a little stiff.

Fuji stood beside him, his brown eyes slightly open, his gaze fixed on Tezuka's elbow, without saying a word.

Atobe stood in front of the net, glanced down at the mark where the ball had landed, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips.

Have you finally adapted?

He turned and walked back to the service line, feeling nothing. Returning the ball was expected; if Tezuka Kunimitsu couldn't even return this, he wouldn't deserve to be his opponent.

On the fourth ball, Atobe hit another forehand outside corner. The direction of the spin had changed, and the spin was stronger.

Tezuka was clearly more skilled this time. He took a sidestep, unleashed a powerful backhand slice, and pulled the ball back. This time, the shot went deep, heading straight for the baseline, and bounced at just the right height, giving Atobe no chance to approach the net directly.

Atobe quickly retreated several steps to catch the ball and returned it with a cross-court shot. The ball wasn't fast, and it landed on Tezuka's backhand side.

The yellow ball flew back and forth across the net, making crisp, continuous sounds as it hit the rubber court with a dull thud.

After striking three or five beats, Atobe gradually realized something was wrong.

From the very beginning, each of his shots required him to take half a step more than the previous one. Although the impact was minor, the rhythm was indeed slightly disrupted. After several consecutive shots, although the deviation didn't seem significant, it was like water being guided in one direction, gradually developing an irresistible momentum.

Some people in the audience also noticed something amiss.

The ball that Atobe hits always seems to land within a step of Tezuka, so he doesn't need to run a lot.

"Huh? What happened? Atobe missed?"

"No, no, don't you guys notice that the ball is flying towards Tezuka?"

"It seems like... Tezuka didn't even move much, and the ball just came over by itself?"

"What's the principle behind this? Is it magic?"

"Wait... Holy crap... Could this be the legendary Tezuka Zone? There are videos online where the ball spins and pulls the ball away when it hits that spot, like a magnet attracting iron filings."

This sentence was like a detonator thrown into a lake, instantly causing a huge commotion.

"Tezuka Zone?! A technique that allows you to control the trajectory of the ball by spinning it, making all the returns land right next to you, so you can receive them without even running? Holy crap, is this for real? That's incredible!"

"Of course it's true, it's Tezuka's signature style. I've only seen it once before, at last year's youth selection camp. I didn't expect to see it brought out today."

The stands buzzed with excitement; many were seeing Tezuka's territory for the first time and were filled with astonishment.

The murmurs grew louder, and the cheers for Seigaku rose again. Momoshiro jumped up and down, shouting "Captain is awesome!" while Kikumaru waved his support handkerchief, his face flushed red.

"Once the domain is activated, his running distance can be reduced by more than a third." Inui's notebook pages rustled as he flipped through them, the pen tip flying across the paper. "This means Tezuka can keep the load on his arms at a lower level. If he can maintain that, Atobe's control rhythm will be disrupted."

"Tezuka Zone! It's Tezuka Zone!" Saori Shiba's voice trembled with excitement in the press box, her hand holding the camera shaking incessantly. "I knew it! When Captain Tezuka gets serious, Atobe is no match at all! What's the point of Tannhäuser's serve? It's useless in Tezuka Zone!"

Inoue, though not as dramatic as her, breathed a sigh of relief and wrote in his notebook, "Tezuka's domain activated, the situation reversed."

In the Shonan Ward, Hanamura Aoi chuckled, propping her chin up as she watched with great interest. "Tezuka's domain, truly lives up to its name. I thought he was going to hold back until the decisive game before finally unleashing it. I just wonder if Hyotei has any plans to break this deadlock."

Kajimoto stood beside her and nodded. "Indeed, he lives up to his reputation. With his domain, he has the advantage in baseline rallies. It won't be easy for Atobe to score with a strong attack. However... judging from the previous innings, given Atobe's style, he probably won't just sit and wait to be defeated."

If someone is sucking on a straw, they might exclaim excitedly, "Wow, really? The ball turns by itself? That's so unbelievable!"

"It's not some kind of mystical art, it's spin control." Hanamura Aoi tapped her wrist with her fingertip. "Tezuka adds reverse spin to every return, slowly pulling the opponent's return trajectory into his controllable range. It's the embodiment of top-level ball control."

In the St. Rudolph district, Mizuki closed her fan, tapped it lightly in her palm, and smiled slightly.

"Tezuka Domain, the ultimate in rotational control."

Liu Ze stared wide-eyed at the field, his eyes glued to the screen. "Can the ball really fly back automatically?"

"It doesn't fly automatically; it's guided by rotation." Guan Yue glanced at him sideways. "You wouldn't understand even if I explained. I just wonder, if the rotation were any stronger, could he still hold on?"

Akazawa, frowning, interjected, "You mean, Hyotei will add spin?"

"Otherwise what?" Mizuki glanced at him sideways. "Atobe couldn't possibly be unprepared. Just wait and see, things will change soon."

Rikkai District.

"Oh? It's started." Niou twirled the iced tea between his fingers, the casual glint in his fox-like eyes fading slightly. "Is this Tezuka's 'domain'?"

Liu's pen tip slid rapidly across the paper, almost leaving afterimages. "Tezuka Zone activated. Estimated rotation radius: 1.2 meters, 0.3 meters smaller than the data collected last time. Ball control accuracy improved by 25%."

Sanada leaned forward, his eyes serious beneath his hat brim. "His defense is virtually flawless. Ordinary attacks simply can't penetrate it."

"That ball... is it really being sucked in?" Kirihara squatted in front of the railing, his eyes wide open. He saw that after each bounce, the yellow ball on the court was subtly tilted towards Tezuka. Although the tilt was small, after several consecutive shots, it was as if Atobe was automatically feeding the ball to Tezuka's hand.

"It's not 'drawing'," Yagyu sat up straight, his tone carrying a serious correction. "It's the guidance of spin. Tezuka adds a specific direction of sidespin to every return shot, and the opponent's return trajectory is deflected by that spin. Visually, it looks like the ball is being drawn in, but essentially, it's his spin control that's at work."

Marui forgot to chew the mung bean cake in his mouth, his mouth agape, his gaze never leaving the court: "Is he that strong? He can catch the ball without even standing still? How is Atobe going to break through that?"

"It's not that he's completely still." Niou raised an eyebrow, picked up his loose braid, and pointed at Hyotei's half of the court. "He's just moving much less, saving his energy. Puri~ Why do I feel like Atobe isn't in a hurry at all? Look at him, he's still playing at his own pace."

"They must have had a plan before the match." Yagyu pulled a leather cord from his pocket and handed it to Niou, casually adding, "It seems that Atobe's serve has stronger instantaneous spin, which should be able to break out of the area. But it's hard to say about rallies."

"Then why didn't he use it before?" Kirihara squatted at the front, looking up at his senior with some confusion. "He played so hard in the second game, but it was useless."

"Because of the price."

Liu turned a page, his pen gliding across the paper, but he didn't write anything... He was waiting for the data on the court to stabilize. "Tezuka's domain requires continuous rotational output from the wrist and elbow. He didn't use it in the first two games, probably because he was confirming whether the strength of his opponent's serve was worth the premature strain on his arm."