\The Next Afternoon – Club Activity Time
Yoru arrived at the coaching office with a training regimen drafted by Nanjiroh.
Ryuzaki Sumire frowned deeply as she scanned the document. After a long silence, she finally spoke.
"This… this goes far beyond standard training volumes. Did Nanjiroh really devise this?"
"The original plan was his. I merely doubled the workload and added some of my own recovery methods."
In truth, these so-called "recovery methods" were just psychological tricks to create the illusion of rapid fatigue relief for the players.
"Even if we halve this, the original regimen is already—"
Before Ryuzaki could finish, Yoru cut in. "I never expected them to complete it in the first place."
"Then why…?"
His words left her utterly bewildered. If he didn't think they could manage it, why set such an impossible standard?
"Coach, if you've chosen to delegate authority to me, trust my judgment."
"Follow my instructions. This is the most direct path to a championship."
With that, he left the office, leaving a flustered Ryuzaki behind.
The logic was simple—human psychology.
Set an impossibly high goal, and even if they know they can't reach it, they'll push themselves to achieve 50%.
And that 50%? That's where real growth happens.
In his past life, Yoru had studied psychology. These little mind games were child's play to him.
It was like his mother's breakfast stall.
Changing the question from "Do you want an egg?" to "Do you want one egg or two?" subconsciously forced customers to make a choice.
That tiny tweak had doubled egg sales overnight.
Club Members Arrive – Training Begins
One by one, the tennis club members trickled onto the courts.
Ryuzaki had already posted the new training schedule on the bulletin board.
The moment they saw it, their faces paled.
"Is… is this for real?!"
"Is this training or torture?!"
"One round would kill me, and we're supposed to do TWO?!"
"We're gonna die."
"Rumor says the new captain came up with this… He's trying to murder us!"
Groans of despair filled the air—until a commanding voice cut through.
"Warm up, then start your training. Anyone who refuses can submit a withdrawal form."
Yoru's arrival silenced all complaints.
No one had forgotten how he'd become captain yesterday. Even if they hated the regimen, none dared protest.
Quitting wasn't an option either—in this world, club participation heavily influenced academic grades. Skipping out meant failing to graduate.
The members stared at Yoru pleadingly.
Finally, Yamato Yuudai spoke up hesitantly.
"Captain… this workload is impossible. Even finishing one round would be brutal, let alone two…"
Yoru scanned the group, unfazed.
"Whether you can do it or not is irrelevant. What matters is that you try. My strength came from this. Want to be as strong as me? Then train like this."
His lie was delivered flawlessly.
Two lifetimes of experience had honed his ability to "talk absolute nonsense" with a straight face.
The team fell silent. No one doubted him—his skills spoke for themselves.
"If you think you can grow stronger without effort, you're delusional."
Yoru's tone was icy.
That dream belongs to me alone.
"Start training. NOW."
"YES, CAPTAIN!"
The members shouted in unison before sprinting toward the track.
Running was the easiest part of the regimen. The real hell came later.
Latecomers took one look at the schedule and the panting runners before reluctantly joining in.
As for Yoru?
He casually leaned against the fence, watching.
"Aren't you running?" Ryuzaki asked, puzzled.
"This training is beneath me now."
His reply oozed arrogance.
Train?
Never.
Why work hard when he could let others do it for him?
The Aftermath – A Transformed Seigaku
Soon, Yamato finished the run first.
"Hah… hah… hah…"
He gasped for air, eyes bloodshot, the metallic tang of blood in his throat.
Even his stamina had nearly buckled under the first exercise.
"Don't sit. Stand. Rest for ten minutes, then move to the next drill."
Yoru stopped him before he could collapse.
Sitting immediately after intense exercise was a one-way ticket to passing out.
"Too… too much…"
"Can't… talk… heart's… pounding…"
"Never… ran… this hard… before…"
"It's your… fault… I was pacing myself… then you all sped up!"
"I got… dragged into it… too…"
As more players finished, they crumpled like dead fish. Some even vomited.
Bystanders gawked in horror at the scene.
"What's happening in the tennis club?!"
"I've never seen them train like this!"
"I almost joined last year… Thank god I picked basketball!"
"This is terrifying…"
The Psychology of Victory
"Rest period over. Begin the next exercise!"
Yoru's order drew collective groans.
But thanks to the training sigil's 500% recovery boost, ten minutes of rest was far more effective than usual.
"If we're aiming for Nationals, train like it. Want my strength? Follow. This. Plan."
"Talent sets your ceiling, but effort determines your skill. ANYONE here can become a regular. ANYONE can reach the top."
"Has Seigaku ever won Nationals? Yet you still joined. Did you come here just to waste time?"
"Will you coast through middle school—or push yourselves with no regrets? The choice is yours."
Years of motivational movie tropes hadn't gone to waste. Every word struck deep.
"Get up! Keep training! I… I want to bring Seigaku a championship! Don't you?!"
Yamato suddenly roared, cutting through the exhaustion.
To Yoru's amusement, the entire team staggered to their feet, resuming drills before their rest time even ended.
"…Tch. All that talking, and Yamato's one line did the trick."
No wonder he has the 'Morale Boost' trait.
Ryuzaki's Realization
From her office window, Ryuzaki watched the revitalized team, her eyes shimmering with emotion.
"It's been years since I've seen Seigaku like this."
Despite the grueling regimen, not a single member slacked off.
All because of Yoru.
Yesterday's matches, today's "Want to be as strong as me?" challenge—it had sparked something undeniable.
"Yoru…"
"Seigaku has finally found its true leader."