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🕑 Added 2025-06-06 17:20:50 +0000 UTCChapter 361: Tennis That Steals the Senses
"The fifth match will now begin."
"U-17 Representative: Tokugawa Kazuya (2nd Year High School) vs. Challenger: Yukimura Seiichi (3rd Year Middle School)."
"Players, prepare yourselves."
As the referee’s voice faded, Tokugawa and Yukimura stepped onto the court.
"Finally, Captain Yukimura’s turn!"
Outside the court, Rikkai’s Kirihara clenched his fists in excitement. His teammates, Marui and Jackal, were equally fired up. Sanada’s earlier defeat had been a heavy blow—but now, their strongest player, Yukimura, was stepping forward.
Before Ishikawa’s rise, Yukimura had been the undisputed No. 1 among middle schoolers. Even now, he stood firmly in the top five.
"Seiichi…"
Unlike the others, Yanagi’s usually closed eyes opened slightly, revealing a trace of unease.
From Mitsuya, he had learned crucial intel—including the current rankings of U-17’s elite. Duke Watanabe, who had crushed Sanada, was the former No. 3.
In Yanagi’s assessment, the gap between top-tier U-17 players was even wider than the divide between regulars and reserves. The higher the rank, the more monstrous the skill. Case in point: No. 3 Duke and No. 1 Ishikawa.
And now, standing before them was Tokugawa Kazuya—the new No. 3 who had replaced Duke.
If rankings meant anything, Tokugawa was likely even stronger than Duke.
Even with Yanagi’s faith in Yukimura, the pressure felt overwhelming.
"Senpai."
At the net, Yukimura asked the question burning in his mind:
"Have you ever played against Ishikawa?"
Tokugawa’s pupils contracted briefly before he regained composure. "Now I understand why we both had that premonition."
The cryptic exchange left spectators baffled—but Yukimura simply smiled. "That must be the reason."
Only a few, like Duke and Inui, glanced toward Ishikawa on the sidelines.
"That guy really is a myth," Duke murmured.
Inui nodded. From middle school to high school, Ishikawa stood peerless. His influence lingered in every match, shaping players in ways both obvious and unseen.
"First set! Tokugawa to serve!"
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tokugawa bounced the ball calmly, the rhythmic sound heightening the tension. Then—
Whoosh!
He tossed the ball high, his racket slicing down in a fluid motion.
Boom!
The serve streaked across the court, its trajectory shimmering with prismatic afterimages.
"What kind of serve is that?!"
Kirihara and Jackal’s eyes widened. The ball’s path twisted erratically, defying prediction.
Flicker—
Then, it vanished.
"Gone?!" Even Yagyū, with his sharp vision, lost track.
"This isn’t just a 'Disappearing Serve,'" Niō muttered. Unlike Fuji’s or Sanada’s techniques, this was on another level entirely.
Yet—
Swish!
Yukimura’s racket flashed.
Boom!
He returned the "vanished" ball with eerie precision.
"He saw it?!"
High schoolers stiffened. Tokugawa’s "Mirage Serve" had been dismantled effortlessly.
The match escalated into a duel of absolute precision.
Every shot kissed the lines—baseline, sideline, even the razor-thin junctions where they met.
"No way…"
"He’s matching Tokugawa stroke for stroke?!"
"And he’s doing it with his jacket still on?!"
Whispers erupted. The sight of Yukimura playing at this level—casually draped in his外套—sent shivers through the crowd.
Only when Tokugawa clinched the first game (1-0) did Yukimura finally remove his jacket, handing it to Kirihara.
"Warm-up’s over," Inui observed.
"Game! Yukimura leads, 5-5!"
By the 27-minute mark, Yukimura had forced a deadlock.
"You’re strong," Tokugawa admitted. "And you’ve been holding back, haven’t you?"
Yukimura smiled. "Aren’t you as well? You’ve been playing at 60%."
Tokugawa’s eyes narrowed.
He had been limiting himself—a training method taught by Oni and Inui. But Yukimura had seen through it.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Tokugawa’s next serve—fault.
"Out!"
"He missed?!" Hakamada’s voice cracked. Tokugawa, the paragon of flawless fundamentals, had erred.
"It’s happening!" Kirihara cheered. "Captain’s Yips!"
Tokugawa stared at his hand.
"My… sense of touch is gone."
No vibration from the strings. No feedback on impact.
Then—darkness.
His vision cut out mid-rally.
Boom!
Yukimura’s smash landed at his feet.
"0-15!"
Silence engulfed the court.
In that void, Tokugawa realized the truth:
"You’re the second player I’ve met… who can steal the five senses."
Chapter 362: The Tiebreaker – Yukimura’s Ability Evolves
"The Destruction of the Five Senses."
This was a technique Tokugawa had experienced once before—at the hands of Ishikawa. Back then, it had thrown him into a desperate and perilous state.
And now, he was facing a second middle schooler who wielded the same power: Yukimura Seiichi!
Could two flowers of the same kind bloom in the same world?
Until now, Tokugawa had believed it impossible.
But what was happening before his eyes shook that conviction. His calm demeanor wavered as his senses were stripped away one by one.
If he had only vaguely sensed the foreboding of this match earlier, he now understood the source of that unease.
The Destruction of the Five Senses.
Yukimura was like a second Ishikawa—their techniques, their flawless abilities, were eerily similar.
—Flick!
Tokugawa opened his eyes.
Staring into the darkness before him, his vacant gaze suddenly sharpened with a glint of clarity.
"He’s way too calm!"
Outside the court, Kirihara and the others were stunned. In their minds, any player subjected to Yukimura’s "Destruction of the Five Senses" would show at least some sign of distress, no matter how composed they were.
Yet Tokugawa had barely reacted—just a brief moment of surprise before returning to total stillness, as if his senses had never been taken at all.
"Hmph, he’s probably faking it," Jackal scoffed. "No one can lose their senses and not react at all. The more he pretends, the more it proves he’s shaken."
Many of the middle schoolers nodded in agreement. After all, they’d probably do the same in his place.
—Thud! Thud! Thud!
The match continued.
Even without sight or touch, Tokugawa moved with barely any hindrance. His experience allowed him to rely solely on hearing to keep up with Yukimura.
"Incredible!"
Tachibana and Senri watched in awe.
They knew they could never pull off something like that. It was a testament to Tokugawa’s unshakable fundamentals.
—Thud!
But the next moment, Yukimura’s return shot landed at Tokugawa’s feet and bounced away—unanswered.
"Game!"
"Second Army, Yukimura – 6-5!"
At the critical moment, Yukimura had broken Tokugawa’s serve, overtaking him and seizing control of the first set.
"Hmm…" Mitsuya’s expression darkened. "So this time, it’s his hearing?"
Sight, touch, hearing—these were essential for survival. Even someone who was deaf, mute, and blind would still retain some sense of touch.
But now, Tokugawa had lost all three.
The high schoolers watching stiffened. If they were in his place, they couldn’t imagine their minds holding together.
"Is it… over already?"
The middle schoolers were excited but also baffled.
Their previous matches had been grueling battles—even the victorious Yanagi and Shiraishi had fought tooth and nail to win.
Yet here was Yukimura, seemingly cruising to victory with ease.
Was Tokugawa just weak?
No.
The middle schoolers quickly dismissed the thought.
This wasn’t about Tokugawa’s lack of skill—it was about Yukimura’s overwhelming strength. He had long surpassed the level of an ordinary middle schooler, stepping firmly into the realm of elite high school players.
And his "Destruction of the Five Senses" was unpredictable.
Unless the opponent had monstrous mental resilience—like Ishikawa, who could outright resist it—losing all five senses would cripple even the strongest players, leaving them with barely a fraction of their ability.
Tokugawa was living proof.
"Kinda boring, honestly."
Kirihara sighed dramatically, though his smug grin betrayed his pride. Look at our captain—see how strong he is?
Meanwhile, Yanagi and Renji narrowed their eyes, watching Yukimura closely.
With the serve now in Yukimura’s hands, if Tokugawa’s senses were truly gone, the set would likely end with four straight aces.
—Whoosh!
Yukimura tossed the ball into the air.
His expression remained calm, his movements unhurried—still maintaining the same rhythm as before.
But he was determined to close out this set. Even if Tokugawa could break free from the "Destruction," it wouldn’t happen in mere seconds.
—Thud!
A sharp serve streaked across the court, landing precisely at the intersection of the service line and sideline.
"This guy…!"
The high schoolers stiffened.
Even with victory all but assured, Yukimura hadn’t let up—his serve was still flawless.
Byodoin and Oni nodded in approval.
This was the professionalism of a true tennis player. Unshaken by the situation, unwavering in execution.
That alone set Yukimura leagues above most.
"15-0!"
The umpire’s call silenced the stadium.
—Thud! Thud!
Two more serves followed, both unanswered by Tokugawa.
"40-0!"
Yukimura was now at match point. One more point, and he’d take the first set with relative ease.
"Tokugawa’s done for…"
Hakamada, Akiyo, and even Tōjin and Matsudaira shook their heads.
The situation looked hopeless.
But then again, Tokugawa’s No. 3 badge hadn’t been earned by defeating Duke in a proper match.
Though he was the former Court 1 leader, everyone knew the top five courts weren’t strictly ranked by number.
He wasn’t the strongest.
And now, it seemed he couldn’t carry the weight of the No. 3 title.
"After his loss to Byodoin, he swore revenge… and this is all he’s got?" Nakakochi muttered behind his sunglasses.
—Thud!
Yukimura served again.
The ball shot past the net, once again kissing the line. The precision sent a chill through the high schoolers, who could only watch in resignation.
Who would’ve thought this singles match would end like this?
—Flick!
But then—
A figure suddenly appeared in the ball’s trajectory.
"What?!"
Middle schoolers and high schoolers alike gasped.
"Tokugawa?!"
Hakamada and Akiyo’s eyes widened. "When did he— Wasn’t his five senses destroyed?!"
—Bam!
Tokugawa’s racket connected, sending the ball rocketing past Yukimura.
"40-15!"
"He broke free that fast?!"
The middle schoolers were stunned, especially the ones from Rikkai.
"Actually… this isn’t his first time experiencing it," Marui said, his gaze fixed on Tokugawa, whose eyes had now fully regained focus. "Yukimura’s technique has limited effect on him."
"Exactly," Atsushi agreed. "I’d bet he could’ve escaped anytime he wanted."
"He’s already used to it?!"
"No way! That’s Yukimura’s ‘Destruction’ we’re talking about! Unless…"
Their eyes slowly turned toward the raven-haired boy sitting calmly on the steps.
"Gulp." Kirihara swallowed hard.
This was insane.
Did that mean Ishikawa had copied Yukimura’s technique too?!
"Let’s continue."
On the court, Tokugawa gave Yukimura a nod.
He had broken free early—he’d just chosen to stay in that state, wanting to recreate the pressure he’d felt against Ishikawa.
But Yukimura… wasn’t Ishikawa.
Their versions of the "Destruction" were worlds apart.
"Hmm."
Yukimura’s expression darkened.
He could tell—Tokugawa wasn’t bluffing. He genuinely had the ability to escape at will.
How many players now could resist his technique?
The Rikkai players fell silent.
As they faced stronger opponents, what was once an unstoppable technique was becoming obsolete.
Worse, players like Sanada and Ishikawa had evolved by overcoming it. In a way, Yukimura’s ability was now helping his enemies grow.
—Thud!
But Yukimura wasn’t just any player.
He quickly steadied himself and fired off another blazing serve.
Now backed into a corner, Tokugawa stopped holding back. His speed surged, his shots sharper, his spins more vicious—no openings left to exploit.
—Thud! Thud! Thud!
Yukimura was forced onto the defensive.
Then, with a brutal smash, Tokugawa broke Yukimura’s serve.
"Game!"
"First Army, Tokugawa – 6-6!"
"Tiebreaker!"
The crowd tensed.
Neither middle schoolers nor high schoolers dared to underestimate this match now. The intensity was too much—just keeping up with their movements was exhausting.
But one thing was clear:
Once Tokugawa got serious, he dominated the court. And with high schoolers generally having superior stamina, a tiebreaker was the last thing Yukimura needed.
"Tokugawa to serve!"
In a tiebreak, the first server only got one serve, alternating with the opponent’s two serves afterward.
The first to seven points, with a two-point lead, would win the set—otherwise, it would continue indefinitely.
—Thud!
Most players would tread carefully in a tiebreak, knowing every point mattered.
But Tokugawa, seasoned as he was, showed no hesitation. The moment he served, he pressed the attack.
—Thud! Thud! Thud!
His play was methodical, relentless—no weaknesses. Yukimura had no room to counter.
—Thud!
"1-0, Tokugawa!"
He took the first point.
Then, in Yukimura’s serve rotation, Tokugawa snatched three more points, leading 3-0.
"This is bad."
The Rikkai players clenched their fists.
This high schooler was faster, stronger, and just as skilled—Yukimura couldn’t find a single gap.
If this continued, he’d lose the set.
And with middle schoolers at a stamina disadvantage, losing the first set would spell disaster for the match.
"Tokugawa Kazuya…"
Yukimura’s gaze hardened.
The pressure Tokugawa exerted was no less than Ishikawa’s during the Nationals. If he didn’t change something now, defeat was inevitable.
"Haaah…"
He exhaled deeply, his eyes flashing with sharp resolve.
"Oh? Finally getting serious?"
Tokugawa’s brow lifted.
He hadn’t underestimated Yukimura—in fact, he was eager to see what else this middle schooler had in store.
—Thud!
He fired another shot.
Yukimura moved, raising his racket for a backhand swing.
"Left side?"
Tokugawa’s instincts flared.
But then—
—Thud!
The ball landed on his right. He barely adjusted in time to return it.
—Thud!
Yukimura, as if predicting Tokugawa’s movement, struck again—this time, the ball slipped between his legs.
"1-3, Yukimura!"
"What just happened?!"
The spectators stared in shock.
Somehow, Yukimura had outmaneuvered Tokugawa.
—Thud! Thud! Thud!
Yukimura kept up the assault.
His shots now carried unpredictable spins, trajectories, and angles. Tokugawa, unable to read them, was suddenly helpless.
"This kid’s got skills!"
Byodoin grinned, arms crossed.
"So what’s he doing?" Kintarō blinked, turning to Oni for answers.
"His left and right-hand spins are perfectly identical," Oni explained. "Tokugawa can’t anticipate the ball’s path in time to react."
At this level, matches were decided by split-second judgments.
Losing that edge had thrown Tokugawa into Yukimura’s rhythm—now, he could only defend.
—Thud!
"3-3, Yukimura!"
In moments, Yukimura had evened the score. Then, he pushed further, widening the gap to 6-3.
"He’s got a chance!!"
Kirihara and the others cheered.
One more point, and Yukimura would end the tiebreak. But Yanagi and the others sensed danger.
Sure enough—
Just like before, Tokugawa adapted.
—Thud! Thud! Thud!
He began anticipating Yukimura’s shots with eerie accuracy.
"How is he doing this?!"
Tōjin and Matsudaira exchanged stunned looks.
"His intuition is just that sharp," Inui said with a smile.
Intuition.
That was Tokugawa’s innate gift—an almost precognitive sense of his opponent’s moves. In a way, it was like a natural-born "Perfect Poise."
But then—
Just as Tokugawa prepared to counterattack, his body froze mid-swing.
—Thud!
The ball sailed past him, untouched.
"First set, final score!"
The umpire’s voice rang out:
"Second Army, Yukimura wins – 7-6!"
Silence.
Everyone stared at Tokugawa, baffled. If not for knowing his personality, they’d think he’d thrown the match.
"That feeling just now…"
Tokugawa’s brow furrowed.
His intuition—his foresight—had vanished. The "future" he’d seen had been pure darkness.
"Don’t tell me…"
His eyes lifted, locking onto the blue-haired boy across the net.
"He can even destroy… my intuition?"
Chapter 363: The Glowing Shot – Power Beyond Limits
"This middle schooler... has a technique beyond the Yips?!"
Tokugawa's eyes widened.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the U-17 veterans. Even Byoudouin and Oni recognized the terrifying potential—if Yukimura could evolve this ability further, he might one day strip opponents of even deeper instincts.
"These middle schoolers are latent threats," Byoudouin murmured, golden eyes glinting.
"Agreed." Duke nodded, recalling his match with Sanada. Though the middle schooler's Triple Slash hadn't threatened him, the gap in their ages was undeniable. In his prime, Duke had been France's *"Destroyer King"*—a prodigy among prodigies. Yet now, Sanada wasn't even top five among his peers.
And above them all loomed Ishikawa.
"Impressive," Saitou remarked from the observation deck.
Takizawa crossed his arms. "To take the first set against Tokugawa... Yukimura's talent is monstrous."
"His ability to erase 'premonition' surpasses most high schoolers," Kurobe added. "But Tokugawa won't hold back anymore."
The coaches exchanged glances. They knew Tokugawa's true caliber—forged under Oni and Inui's tutelage, honed to dethrone Byoudouin.
"Second set! Yukimura to serve!"
Having clinched the first set 7-6, Yukimura seized the initiative. His new technique, Mirage Prism, combined with his evolved Premonition Erasure, pressed Tokugawa relentlessly.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Rallies stretched past 50 strokes, each point a war of attrition. Yet despite Yukimura's dominance, the scoreboard barely budged.
"He's being contained," Yanagi realized grimly. Tokugawa's flawless fundamentals were patching every crack in his defense.
Then—
Crack!
Tokugawa's backhand ripped through Yukimura's guard.
"30-40!"
"He... reversed it?!"
The middle schoolers froze. Premonition Erasure—their captain's ultimate weapon—had been overcome.
What followed was a masterclass in annihilation.
Tokugawa's aura sharpened like an unsheathed blade. His Mirage Serve twisted with even fiercer spin, leaving Yukimura grasping at air.
"Game! Tokugawa leads 5-0!"
"No way..." Jackal's voice trembled. The boy who'd once dominated opponents without conceding a single point now struggled to win a single game.
On court, Yukimura's breaths came ragged. The pressure was suffocating—Tokugawa's presence loomed like a mountain no tactic could scale.
Then...
Click.
Yukimura closed his eyes.
"Zero Shiki...!"
By severing his own senses, he sharpened his tennis instincts to their absolute limit.
Tokugawa paused. "Sacrificing your senses to heighten awareness?"
For the first time, respect flickered in his gaze. Then—
Crackle.
Golden light erupted from his palm.
"That's—?!"
Kirihara's shout died as the ball ignited in Tokugawa's grip.
"The Glowing Shot."
Byoudouin's lips curled. "How ironic... he's become what he once despised."
BOOM!!!
The moment the luminous strike landed, Yukimura's eyes snapped open—
—just in time to see his racket shatter in a blast of raw force.
CRASHHH!!!
The back wall imploded, leaving a two-meter crater where the ball had struck.
"15-0!"
The referee's call went unheard. The crowd stood paralyzed.
"That's... beyond human limits," Atobe whispered.
Even Tezuka's usually stoic face paled.
Dust swirled as Yukimura retrieved his mangled racket. His hands shook—not from fear, but the aftershock of power that could've shattered his arm.
Yet when he stepped back onto the baseline, his stance never wavered.
"Mental fortitude worthy of a champion," Oni acknowledged.
But against Tokugawa's Glowing Shot, resilience alone wasn't enough.
BOOM! "30-0!"
BOOM! "40-0!"
Match point loomed. The pressure thickened like a stormcloud.
Yukimura's grip tightened. There had to be a way.
Then—
His gaze flicked to the sidelines, where a certain black-haired observer watched silently.
"If it were him... what would he do?"
Chapter 364: As If Possessed by a God – The Oppressive Pressure of Asura
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
At the baseline, Tokugawa lightly tapped the tennis ball against the ground.
On the other side of the court, Yukimura watched his opponent’s movements intently, his mind racing. If it were Ishikawa in my position, how would he handle this?
His opponent was strong—too strong.
At his current level, Yukimura couldn’t break through Tokugawa’s defense. Even if he could hold his own, the inevitable outcome would be exhaustion, his stamina drained dry.
"So, playing defensively is a guaranteed loss."
Yukimura’s mind worked furiously. "Someone like Ishikawa would never just wait for defeat. But if I can’t find a weakness in Tokugawa’s play, how can I score?"
Analyzing Tokugawa’s skills, it was nearly impossible to pinpoint a flaw.
"If I can’t exploit my opponent’s weaknesses… then I’ll have to—"
Swish!
Suddenly, a spark flashed in Yukimura’s eyes.
Then, under the watchful gazes of the spectators, he closed them again.
"Oh?"
Tokugawa raised an eyebrow.
He held Yukimura in high regard—among all the middle schoolers, aside from Ishikawa, Yukimura was the most talented he’d encountered.
His insight, technique, and mental fortitude were practically flawless.
Earlier, Yukimura had even entered a state where he sacrificed his own five senses to enhance his other abilities. That level of determination and innovation had genuinely impressed Tokugawa.
And now…
Yukimura seemed to be stepping back into that realm.
"Does he still not realize the reality of the situation? Or… does he have another hidden card to play?"
Boom!
Without hesitation, Tokugawa served.
This time, he didn’t use the Glowing Shot, but the sheer speed of the serve was still overwhelming.
Crack!
The ball slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that obscured Yukimura’s figure.
"Hm?"
At this, Byoudouin’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
On the other hand, Oni smirked in satisfaction.
It was clear to both of them—Tokugawa was testing Yukimura, using his own pressure to push the younger player toward a breakthrough.
This philosophy was the complete opposite of Byoudouin’s.
Some of the high schoolers, along with a few observant middle schoolers, also sensed the shift in the match’s dynamic.
Thwack!
A crisp impact echoed from within the dust cloud.
A pale-yellow streak of light tore through the haze, shooting back toward Tokugawa with razor-sharp precision.
"So this is the power of his ‘Zero Senses’ state?"
Tokugawa nodded slightly.
In their previous exchange, his Glowing Shot had shattered Yukimura’s racket, so the full extent of this ability hadn’t been on display.
Still…
While the boost was significant, it wasn’t enough to challenge Tokugawa.
"He’s still at the elite level—he hasn’t stepped into the deeper realm yet."
Boom!
With a smooth swing, Tokugawa returned the ball.
He was patient. He’d give Yukimura all the time he needed to prove whether he could evolve further.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The two raced across the court, locked in a high-speed rally.
Yukimura’s Zero Senses was impressive—his skills had visibly improved. But Tokugawa’s sheer dominance made it clear: this level of enhancement wouldn’t change the outcome.
Thud!
Then, in one fleeting moment, Tokugawa’s racket connected with the ball—and his brow furrowed.
"This feeling… My sense of touch is being stripped away again?"
For an instant, he couldn’t feel the usual feedback from the impact. Yukimura’s Five Senses Deprivation was taking effect once more.
"Too bad."
Tokugawa’s mental focus sharpened. An invisible wave of energy pulsed from him, effortlessly dispelling Yukimura’s sensory interference.
"This ability won’t work on me."
If Yukimura thought this was enough to defeat him, he was sorely mistaken. And honestly, Tokugawa would be disappointed if that were the case.
"Wait."
But when Tokugawa studied Yukimura again, he noticed something odd.
The boy’s eyes remained closed, his expression eerily calm.
"He’s not actively trying to deprive me of my senses… It’s just a passive effect of his ability. But then—what is he trying to achieve?"
Tokugawa couldn’t figure it out.
Yet his instincts screamed at him—something monumental was happening within Yukimura.
"Maybe… he needs even more pressure."
Without hesitation, Tokugawa dialed up his intensity.
What had been a balanced rally instantly turned into a one-sided onslaught.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The pace of the match skyrocketed. Yukimura, who had been moving with precision, was now scrambling desperately just to keep up.
But despite the struggle, his eyes stayed shut. His brows knitted together as if wrestling with some unseen obstacle.
"Nothing!"
"Nothing!"
"Still nothing!"
In the darkness of his sealed senses, Yukimura focused every ounce of his willpower into his remaining awareness.
His goal was simple.
If he couldn’t break through Tokugawa’s defenses, he’d break through himself. And the most viable path was through Zero Senses.
But no matter how hard he concentrated, his mind remained eerily blank—like multiplying zero by any number. The result was always zero.
Worse, the more he forced his consciousness into the void, the more unstable Zero Senses became. His grip on the state was slipping.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
On the court, Yukimura’s movements grew sloppier. His breathing turned ragged, sweat pouring down his face. He looked like a man on the verge of collapse.
"Yukimura… (Captain!)"
The members of Rikkai Dai watched in stunned silence.
Yukimura Seiichi—the "Child of God," the undisputed king of Rikkai Dai—was being pushed to his absolute limit. It felt surreal, like a nightmare they couldn’t wake up from.
"Is there… really no hope?"
Yukimura’s condition worsened by the second.
His senses—hearing, sight, touch—were gradually returning, disrupting the delicate balance of Zero Senses. His mind was in chaos.
"Huh?"
But then, amidst the turmoil, he sensed something different.
It wasn’t his five senses.
Nor was it the absence of sensation from Zero Senses.
It was something… beyond. A strange, indescribable feeling, hovering between the two states—or perhaps outside both entirely.
For the briefest moment, he thought he saw a glimmer of light.
Faint.
Blurry.
It could’ve just been a hallucination, a trick of his fractured mind.
But Yukimura was already at the edge. He had no choice but to leap.
With everything he had, he reached for that light.
Hummm…
Time seemed to freeze.
Yukimura, who had been mid-swing, suddenly went still.
But Tokugawa’s shot didn’t stop.
"WATCH OUT!!!"
The Rikkai Dai team screamed in unison.
In a match of this caliber, every shot carried terrifying force. If that ball hit Yukimura directly, he’d end up just like Sanada—the third middle schooler to fall in this selection match.
That was the last thing any of them wanted.
CRACK!
A deafening impact.
A storm of dust erupted where Yukimura stood, the shockwave scattering debris in all directions.
"YUKIMURA! (CAPTAIN!)"
Rikkai Dai’s players cried out in panic.
The other middle schoolers tensed—after Kintarou and Sanada, no one wanted to see another casualty.
Whoosh!
But then—
A pale-yellow streak blazed through the dust, rocketing straight toward Tokugawa.
"He returned it?!"
Tokugawa’s eyes widened.
So, at the last possible moment, Yukimura had managed to swing?
"Good."
A small smile tugged at his lips. His expectations hadn’t been in vain—Yukimura was evolving.
Thud!
When his racket met the ball, surprise flickered across his face.
"This power… Impressive!"
Nodding in approval, Tokugawa fired back.
Boom!
The ball vanished into the dust again—only to be launched back out a second later.
"He returned it again?!"
The crowd buzzed with shock.
Once could’ve been luck.
But twice? That meant something extraordinary was happening inside that dust cloud.
Curiosity replaced concern. Everyone leaned forward, eager to see what was unfolding.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The exchanges grew fiercer.
The spectators noticed Tokugawa’s expression darkening with each return.
"His shots are getting stronger," Oni muttered.
"The spin’s increased too," Byoudouin added, arms crossed. "Interesting. I didn’t think Tokugawa could actually push this kid to evolve."
Though he’d never admit it, even he was intrigued.
Just how far had Yukimura gone?
Whoosh!
Tokugawa’s next swing unleashed a gust of wind, tearing the dust curtain apart.
And there—
Stood Yukimura, eyes still closed.
"This state…"
The elite high schoolers—Shiraishi, Irie, Mouri—all stiffened.
They could feel it.
An overwhelming, almost tangible wave of mental energy radiated from Yukimura.
Rustle…
A sudden breeze swept across the court, making Yukimura’s jacket flutter. His blue-purple hair swayed as his white headband came loose.
Flash!
Then—
A blinding white light erupted from his body.
"What the—?! Impossible!!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. People rubbed their eyes, unable to believe what they were seeing.
Yukimura, bathed in light, seemed to float slightly above the ground.
"It’s like…" Inui whispered, awestruck. "The Child of God."
BANG!
Yukimura swung.
The ball streaked across the court like a comet, exploding at Tokugawa’s feet before he could react.
"40-15!"
Then—
Yukimura opened his eyes.
His gaze was cold, emotionless, as if looking straight through Tokugawa.
With his jacket billowing and the radiant halo of light surrounding him, he looked like a deity descended upon the mortal realm.
"…"
Their eyes met.
Tokugawa felt an inexplicable discomfort crawl down his spine.
"So this is your answer?"
He exhaled slowly. "Fine. Let’s see just how much stronger you’ve become."
BOOM!
He served again.
And Yukimura—
Returned it in an instant.
The ball flashed like lightning, landing before Tokugawa could even twitch.
"40-30!"
"That fast?!"
The high schoolers recoiled in shock.
They hadn’t even seen the return.
"Not bad."
Tokugawa acknowledged the improvement.
Yukimura’s growth was surprising.
Crackle…
He tossed the ball up, letting it glow brilliantly before—
BAM!
Another Glowing Shot blasted toward Yukimura.
"GLOWING SHOT?!"
The middle schoolers paled.
They knew exactly how destructive that technique was—it could punch through concrete walls. A direct hit would be catastrophic.
Whoosh!
But Yukimura moved.
His racket gleamed with an eerie light, so intense that Tokugawa’s Glowing Shot seemed to dim in comparison.
CRASH!
Racket met ball—
And to everyone’s shock, the Glowing Shot was returned.
"HE HIT IT BACK?!"
Kaidoh and the others nearly jumped out of their skins. The other middle schoolers gaped in disbelief.
That was the Glowing Shot!
Aside from Ishikawa, was Yukimura the second middle schooler capable of countering it?!
"Tch."
Tokugawa gritted his teeth.
Yukimura’s new form exuded an oppressive aura—like a god suppressing mere mortals beneath its gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Tokugawa steeled himself and charged forward. The battle between them escalated to new heights.
Boom!
Boom!
BOOM!
Their exchanges grew even more intense.
Most of the spectators could no longer follow their movements. And Yukimura’s radiant glow seemed to emit an almost physical pressure—so overwhelming that some couldn’t even look directly at him.
With each passing rally, Tokugawa realized something terrifying—
Yukimura’s perception had sharpened even further.
His speed and power had increased.
But most alarming of all was that light. It wasn’t just enhancing Yukimura—it was diminishing Tokugawa’s abilities.
Slowly…
The tides were turning.
The match that had seemed so one-sided now hung in the balance. Yukimura, who had been on the brink of defeat, was now surging forward with unstoppable momentum.
"HE CAN WIN!!!"
Kaidoh and the others were electrified.
If Yukimura took this game, with this newfound power, he could very well sweep the next six in a row. The thought sent adrenaline coursing through their veins.
BANG!
Yukimura unleashed another devastating shot—one that seemed certain to score. Kaidoh and the others were already bracing for celebration.
But then—
Darkness.
A pitch-black aura erupted around Tokugawa, swallowing the light whole.
And Yukimura—
Froze.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, he stood motionless, as if he couldn’t even see the ball coming.
"Game and second set."
"Tokugawa wins, 6-0."
"W-What… was that?!"
All eyes locked onto Tokugawa.
An inky, abyssal glow pulsed around him, radiating a pressure so suffocating it felt like the air itself had turned to lead.
Chapter 365: The Crushed Deity, A Genius Pairing
Compared to Tokugawa’s terrifying, demonic aura, Yukimura’s divine possession seemed to pale in an instant.
"Is this your true strength?"
Yukimura’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at his opponent. Even after seizing that fleeting opportunity amidst his mental chaos, he still couldn’t shake Tokugawa.
"The Asura Path?"
Outside the court, Byoudouin stood with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto Tokugawa. He hadn’t expected that in just a year, his rival would have stepped into this realm.
"Oni."
Byoudouin turned to the red-haired man beside him. "You’ve really trained someone impressive."
Unfortunately, with Ishikawa’s overwhelming presence casting a long shadow, Tokugawa’s Asura Path seemed dimmer by comparison.
Still, Tokugawa’s growth meant their chances of winning the World Cup this year had just increased.
"Asura, huh?"
Duke raised an eyebrow, his usually half-lidded eyes opening slightly as he studied Tokugawa with interest, lost in thought.
"What’s the Asura Path?"
The middle schoolers exchanged confused glances. Players like Hiyoshi and Choutarou felt an invisible pressure weighing on them, while Tezuka, Atobe, and Akaya seemed to grasp something deeper. Their skills already surpassed the national level, and now, witnessing Tokugawa’s dark, overwhelming aura, they sensed the threshold of the next stage.
Everyone’s focus sharpened as they intently watched the match.
With Tokugawa taking the second set, the score was tied 1-1. The third set began with Yukimura serving, and the battle resumed.
But the power of Asura was too much.
Even in his "Divine Possession" state, Yukimura couldn’t withstand the sheer force of a higher realm.
Tokugawa’s control remained flawless, but Yukimura was pushed to his limit. His shots gouged craters into the court and walls, leaving the spectators stunned.
In the end, Yukimura only managed to take one game, losing the set 1-6.
"Game, set, match!"
After a brief tally, the referee announced: "First-string Tokugawa wins, 6-7, 6-0, 6-1!"
At the baseline, Yukimura gasped for breath. His stamina—both physical and mental—was completely drained.
Truthfully, lasting this long was already astonishing. In a way, he had surpassed Kurobe’s expectations. Taking even a single game from Tokugawa in Asura mode was an achievement in itself.
"A good match."
At the net, Tokugawa nodded. "Now that you’ve taken that first step, you know where to go next. Just remember—strengthen your fundamentals, especially your stamina."
Yukimura’s skills were already top-tier, easily on par with the first-string’s top ten. But stamina remained the biggest hurdle for middle schoolers. Aside from Ishikawa and a rare few with exceptional endurance, most wouldn’t survive the grueling World Cup matches without intense training.
Even Tokugawa himself couldn’t guarantee he’d last a full five-set final.
"Thank you for the advice."
Yukimura wasn’t disheartened by the loss. Rankings and qualifications mattered, but what he’d gained from this match far outweighed them.
Then, as if remembering something, he asked: "When you played Ishikawa… did you have this move?"
He wanted to gauge just how far ahead Ishikawa was.
Tokugawa froze for a second before nodding solemnly. "He’s strong. Far stronger than you can imagine."
"I see…" Yukimura murmured. "Thanks for answering."
As they left the court, both glanced toward Ishikawa’s direction—a silent acknowledgment.
"These middle schoolers are monsters…" Hakamada and Akutsu muttered, shaken. Each match kept redefining their expectations.
A middle schooler wielding divine power? And from the looks of it, the ones yet to play might be even stronger.
While some felt uneasy, others were simply curious—just how many more surprises were left?
Meanwhile, the court had taken severe damage from the match, forcing a relocation to a neighboring one.
By now, noon approached, the heat intensifying. After witnessing the last match’s intensity, both middle schoolers and high schoolers hesitated before stepping forward.
"Let’s go, Ryuuji."
A cool voice broke the silence.
Everyone turned to see a towering figure with blue-white hair stride confidently onto the court.
"Who’s that?"
The middle schoolers stiffened. His height alone was staggering—unthinkable for a U-17 player.
"No. 4?!"
Seeing the badge on his collar, their expressions shifted. They’d already seen the power of No. 5 and No. 7, who crushed the Beast Pair’s resonance. No. 3 Tokugawa had dominated even Yukimura’s divine form.
Now, facing No. 4—with his absurd height—none dared act recklessly.
"Spare me…"
Another voice sighed. A white-beanie-wearing player with a thin mustache trudged onto the court.
"No. 6?!"
The middle schoolers tensed further.
"So…" Inui adjusted his glasses. "This doubles pair is even stronger than the last?"
The others grew even more hesitant. Players like Sengoku and Mizuki had already accepted reality—this ranking war was beyond their level.
Then—
Tap.
A crisp footstep echoed.
All eyes turned to see a bespectacled boy with shoulder-length blue-black hair calmly step forward.
"Yūshi?!"
Oshitari’s doubles partner, Mukahi, stiffened.
The others glanced at him—wasn’t he Hyoutei’s fixed doubles pair? Alongside Shishido and Hiyoshi, they were one of the nation’s top teams.
"I…"
Under their gazes, Mukahi clenched his fist, then relaxed.
"Sorry, Yūshi…"
He couldn’t do it. Not because he doubted Oshitari, but because he feared becoming dead weight. Even after the mountain training, he knew his skills still lagged behind the elites.
If he forced himself in, he’d only be a liability—just like in Nationals.
"Too scared to step up?"
From Rikkai’s side, Oshitari Kenji smirked. He was about to volunteer—to team up with his cousin against the No. 4 and No. 6 pair—when someone beat him to it.
"I’ll go."
Fuji Syuusuke walked onto the court.
"Fuji?!"
Seigaku’s members, along with Saint Rudolph’s Fuji Yuuta, stared in shock.
"The Prodigy, Fuji Syuusuke?" Atobe raised an eyebrow.
He hadn’t expected the one to partner with Oshitari would be Seigaku’s genius.
During Nationals, Fuji had broken through his limits against Akaya—only to lose to the monster’s overwhelming power.
In U-17, Fuji had trained relentlessly, always pushing himself.
"Now that I think about it…"
Touji suddenly recalled: "Fuji-senpai and Oshitari-senpai often trained together."
"What?!"
Mukahi’s head snapped up.
"It makes sense," Shiraishi chuckled. "Fuji and Oshitari are both geniuses. It’s natural they’d exchange ideas. Didn’t Senri also train with them sometimes?"
"A gathering of prodigies?"
The middle schoolers nodded. Geniuses naturally gravitated toward each other.
"Right." Yanagi agreed. "Their teamwork shouldn’t be an issue."
Doubles relied heavily on synergy. Against such strong opponents, even minor flaws would be fatal. But if Fuji and Oshitari could synchronize, their combined brilliance might produce something extraordinary.
"Next match: First-string representatives, Ochi Tsukimitsu (3rd year) & Mouri Juujirou (3rd year), versus Second-string representatives, Oshitari Yūshi (3rd year) & Fuji Syuusuke (3rd year)!"
"Prepare for the match."
Oshitari frowned slightly.
"What’s wrong?" Fuji asked.
"Nothing." Oshitari shook his head. "Before Atobe became captain, Hyoutei’s leader was him."
"Him?" Fuji’s eyes widened.
He’d heard of Ochi—the one who first led Hyoutei to Nationals. A legend in his own right.
"Yeah." Oshitari sighed. "But we’ve never met. Doubt he even knows who I am."
"Oshitari Yūshi."
Ochi suddenly spoke. "I’ve heard of you. The first to recognize Ishikawa’s talent… right?"
"You… know me?" Oshitari looked up, straining his neck to meet Ochi’s gaze.
He was stunned. Ochi—Hyoutei’s former captain—knew his name?
Then it hit him.
Yesterday, he’d defeated No. 11, Fuwa Tetsuhito. That must’ve left an impression.
But Ochi’s next words shocked him further.
"The coach mentioned you. One of Hyoutei’s most improved this year. And then you won Nationals—well done."
"Coach… Kabaji-sensei?"
Oshitari nodded. Of course, Ochi would know Kabaji.
But for Ochi to notice him…
"Wait."
His eyes flicked toward Ishikawa.
"That’s it."
A realization struck him.
Ochi had been aware of Hyoutei’s progress before Nationals. Which meant…
"They’ve met before."
Oshitari’s breath hitched.
"They’ve already played."
And the result?
He didn’t need to guess.
His gaze returned to Ishikawa—filled with awe.
Just how many more secrets was their vice-captain hiding?
(End of Chapter)
