Thud—!
40-0!
Thud—!
2-0!
Four serves, four points—effortlessly securing his service game.
Unbelievably strong.
Yoru's performance kept shattering everyone's understanding of middle school tennis.
Meanwhile, Kirihara's face twisted with frustration. He refused to lose so pathetically, without even putting up a fight.
Even if he lost, he'd go down standing tall!
"No technique is absolutely flawless. There has to be a way."
Kirihara racked his brain, digging through his memories for any information about Muga no Kyouchi (the State of Selfless Awareness) and Hyakuren no Kiwami (the Pinnacle of Hard Work).
"Muga no Kyouchi... drains stamina... Hyakuren no Kiwami... Hyakuren..."
A vein throbbed on his forehead.
It was no secret that Muga no Kyouchi accelerated stamina depletion.
But what about Hyakuren no Kiwami?
Kirihara frowned deeply.
Just then, the score began skyrocketing.
Yoru's returns and serves all surpassed Kirihara's limits.
3-0!
4-0!
5-0!
In less than ten minutes, the match reached its final game.
After some adaptation, Kirihara managed to barely return a few shots. He also noticed a slight decline in the quality of Yoru's returns.
"Is he running out of stamina?"
Kirihara wasn't sure.
Aside from the weaker returns, Yoru showed no signs of exhaustion—not even a drop of sweat on his forehead.
"Wait… his movement!"
A realization struck Kirihara, and his face lit up.
Throughout these games, Yoru had barely moved. At first, it seemed like Kirihara just couldn't return his shots, but later, even when he could return them, Yoru struggled to chase the ball.
Tennis Weekly had once published a detailed breakdown of Hyakuren no Kiwami:
When the power of Muga is concentrated in the arms, the rest of the body's functions decline—maximizing return power at the cost of mobility.
Now that Kirihara could return the ball, he could aim for the farthest corners of the court, exploiting Yoru's weakened movement.
"Finally… I've found his weakness."
Thud—!
Yoru served again, reigniting the battle.
Kirihara swiftly intercepted the ball, locked onto a distant corner, and swung with all his might.
Swish—!
The return wasn't perfect due to the serve's impact, but it was enough.
Tap-tap-tap!
Yoru's footsteps echoed as he sprinted to catch the ball before it went out of bounds.
"Just as I thought!"
Kirihara's heart raced with excitement.
The old Yoru wouldn't have needed to wait for the ball to bounce—he'd have intercepted it mid-air. Now, he had to chase it after the bounce.
"My guess was right!"
With a solution in sight, Kirihara exhaled in relief, the weight on his chest finally lifting.
Swish—!
The ball flew fast.
Kirihara didn't let his guard down. He dashed forward and swung again.
Thud—!
A heavy impact stunned the spectators.
A visible whirlwind erupted from the collision point—proof of an overwhelmingly powerful shot.
"Damn it!"
Kirihara's face paled.
He'd almost forgotten: Hyakuren no Kiwami doubles the power and spin of the return!
Panicking, he quickly braced his racket with both hands, forcing the ball back.
A two-handed return—speed increased, spin reduced.
He aimed for the far corner, knowing Yoru would struggle to reach it.
But as he looked up, a sinking feeling hit him.
Yoru hadn't moved.
He let the ball fly out of bounds.
This scene… it was just like—
"No way…"
"It can't be!"
Kirihara's mind blanked.
Could Hyakuren no Kiwami and Tezuka Zone be used together?
Hyakuren was Hyakuren, and Tezuka Zone was Tezuka Zone—they were two separate techniques.
The amplified returns from Hyakuren disrupted precision, making it harder to execute other skills—especially something as demanding as Tezuka Zone, which required insane control and anticipation.
Bzzzt—!
Bzzzt—!
As the ball flew out, a swirling vortex engulfed it.
Unlike the usual Tezuka Zone, this one was sky-blue, crackling with thicker arcs of electricity.
In an instant, the ball was yanked back to the center of the court.
"It was tough, but I finally pulled it off." Yoru exhaled.
Combining Hyakuren with Tezuka Zone had affected his precision, slowing its formation.
This was an extremely difficult technique.
Without the system's enhancement of Ryoma's talent, even Yoru wouldn't have been able to develop it.
In the original series, Ryoma could copy Tezuka Zone and Hyakuren no Kiwami—but he never combined them.
(Note: Throughout Prince of Tennis, Ryoma never merged the two. In fact, among the "Princes" of the series, only Tezuka Kunimitsu ever achieved this.)
The ultimate combo in Prince of Tennis:
Tezuka Zone + Hyakuren no Kiwami!
Tezuka Zone compensates for Hyakuren's mobility weakness.
Hyakuren makes up for Tezuka Zone's lack of finishing power.
Thud—!
A heavy impact shook the court.
The ball vanished—only for the chain-link fence to shudder violently a second later.
Even after lodging into the fence, the ball kept spinning, deepening the dent.
15-0!
Yoru scored.
Kirihara's face turned ashen.
Even if he could reach the ball, returning it was another matter.
This was a doubled rebound effect, combined with Yoru's own monstrous power.
The sheer force, spin, and speed exceeded Kirihara's limits.
Thud—!
30-0!
Thud—!
40-0!
Thud—!
6-0!
Once Yoru fused Tezuka Zone with Hyakuren no Kiwami, the match ended in under a minute.
Total duration: less than ten minutes.
The court fell dead silent.
Despite the summer heat, everyone felt a chill.
Sure, Yoru's victory was good for Seigaku—but the sheer level of his tennis cast a shadow over them all.
As they'd said before:
"He's so strong… it makes you not even want to train."
Because he was just that overpowered.
That said, Kirihara had proven himself impressive.
Even while being crushed, his performance in the first two games was outstanding—clearly surpassing Yamato's level.
And yet… he hadn't lasted ten minutes against Yoru.
Terrifying.
No other word could describe it.
Yoru walked to the net, looking down at Kirihara, who knelt on the ground.
"Enough lying around like a dead dog. Remember our bet? You're joining Seigaku now."
He smirked.
"Let me introduce myself properly: First-year, Yoru. Captain of Seigaku's tennis club."
First-year?!
Kirihara's head snapped up in disbelief.
"Y-You're… a first-year?!"
No wonder he was shocked.
Yoru was the most monstrous player he'd ever faced—even the two-time national champion from last year's tournament hadn't given him this level of pressure.
Not to mention, Yoru's height was nothing like a first-year's.
Most first-years were fresh out of elementary school, barely hitting their growth spurts. How could anyone be over 170 cm already?!
"What, don't I look the part?"
Yoru grinned.