Haikyuu!!: The Disaster of Gamers

The morning of the third day of the Tokyo training camp.

For Karasuno's group of energetic creatures, waking up early wasn't the problem; the problem was that their bodies were like rusty gears, protesting with every movement. But Lu Ren was in good spirits, even a little excited. He stood on the sidelines like a farmer waiting to harvest his leeks, holding his tactics notebook full of scribbles.

Our first practice match today is against Senran High School.

This team is known for its varied offensive combinations, with their net play so prolific it's like mosquitoes after a summer rain—you'll get bitten if you're not careful. For Karasuno, who are experimenting with a new system, this is the best litmus test, and also the cruelest execution ground.

"Remember last night's tactics," Lu Ren gave his final instructions before going on stage, his gaze drifting intentionally or unintentionally to Tsukishima Hotaru, who was adjusting her knee pads. "Don't do anything unnecessary."

Kageyama Tobio nodded expressionlessly, twirling a volleyball in his hand, but his eyes darted around. Tanaka Ryunosuke turned his face to the side and whistled off-key. Sawamura Daichi coughed and clapped his hands, trying to hide a hint of guilt.

Only Tsukishima Hotaru frowned. The atmosphere among this group of single-celled organisms was strange today, especially Lu Ren, whose gaze reminded him of a carnivore staring at the neck of its prey.

The whistle blew.

Senran's serve wasn't strong, and Sawamura Daichi received it steadily, making a perfect first pass. Kageyama quickly organized an attack, and Hyuga soared into the air like a spring, scoring a point with a fast break.

everything is normal.

Until it was Senran's turn to attack.

The opposing setter tossed the ball to the left wing, while two attackers crisscrossed at the net, creating extremely chaotic visual interference. According to standard tactics, Tanaka and Tsukishima should have blocked together in the front row, shutting down both straight and diagonal shots.

However, Tanaka "slipped".

The bald man, with his clumsy acting skills, stumbled to the side, completely clearing the straight area that should have been his responsibility.

Hotaru Tsukishima had only intended to block the middle lane, but when she caught a glimpse of an opening beside her, her pupils instantly contracted. Before her brain could even process the thought of "What is that bastard Tanaka doing?", her body was already forced to shift to the left.

If no one covers the net, the ball will hit the floor.

He was forced to jump, stretching his arms as far as he could to cover the area that was not his responsibility.

"Bang!"

The ball hit the edge of his palm, bounced off course, and landed out of bounds. The ball went out of bounds.

"Sorry, sorry!" Tanaka scratched his bald head without any sincerity. "The floor was a little slippery just now."

Tsukishima gave him a cold glance and said nothing. It was just a mistake, although this bald guy's acting was so bad it deserved a Golden Raspberry Award.

But in the next ten minutes, Hotaru Tsukishima realized she was wrong.

This was not a mistake at all; it was a premeditated act of bullying.

Whenever it's their turn to defend in the front row, Tanaka either "has a loose shoelace" or "is slow to react," while Kageyama simply abandons blocking and goes to the back row to prepare for the setter position, claiming that he "trusts your height."

He was the only one left at the entire network port.

The formidable attackers quickly discovered this major weakness—Kasuga's front line only had one tall player holding out, while the others were just watching from the back. As a result, all their offensive firepower, like sharks smelling blood, concentrated on Tsukishima.

Fast attack, strong attack, timing difference, lob shot.

The volleyballs came crashing down like a torrential downpour.

"Tsukishima! It's up to you!" Nishiya shouted from the back row, his voice filled with a gloating trust.

"Stop them, Tsukishima!" Hinata waved a towel from the sidelines, making a racket that was enough to give anyone a headache.

Hotaru Tsukishima felt like her lungs were about to explode.

He had to jump again and again, adjusting his posture in mid-air each time, to fill the gaps his teammates deliberately left open. Sweat streamed down his glasses and into his eyes, the stinging sensation making him want to curse. This wasn't volleyball; he was playing against six opponents one-on-one.

Another multi-pronged attack.

The three attackers leaped simultaneously. Tsukishima's brain overloaded for a moment: left? right? or center?

Reason told him he should abandon one side and gamble on the odds. But his body had been trained into a conditioned reflex by these ten-odd minutes of "forced execution," and he subconsciously chased after the most threatening ball.

"Snapped!"

The ball hit his forearm and bounced back onto the desolate court.

A block scores a point.

"Nice block!" Lu Ren clapped on the sidelines, his smile looking incredibly irritating. "As expected of Karasuno's rational leader, he even managed to react to this."

Tsukishima landed heavily, panting, and braced himself on his knees. He looked up, staring intently at Lu Ren through his fogged-up glasses.

"You..." Tsukishima's voice was hoarse from lack of oxygen, "...did it on purpose."

"What do you mean, intentional?" Lu Ren walked onto the stage, handed him a bottle of water, and wore an innocent expression. "We're executing the 'Chimera' tactic. Concentrating resources on the strongest point, isn't that reasonable?"

"The strongest point?" Tsukishima sneered, not taking the water. "I'm the meat shield, aren't I?"

"In the game, the tank is the most important position." Lu Ren shoved the water bottle into his arms. "If the tank falls, the squishy DPS and healers in the back row will be wiped out instantly. Look, if you hadn't blocked that ball just now, Nishiya-senpai's vision would have been obstructed, and he wouldn't have been able to catch it at all."

"I refuse." Tsukishima tossed the water bottle aside. "This illogical war of attrition is pointless except for exhausting me."

"It makes sense."

Kageyama Tobio suddenly interrupted. He stood in front of the net, radiating an unpleasant sense of oppression.

"You didn't think before you made that shot." Kageyama pointed to his head. "Before, you always thought, 'Can I block this shot?' or 'Will I be tricked?' But just now, you only thought, 'If I don't block it, we'll lose,' and then your body moved."

Tsukishima paused for a moment.

Absolutely. In that instant, all the complicated calculations, weighing of options, and pros and cons analysis vanished. Only one thought remained in my mind: smash that damn ball down and end this damn defensive rally.

"This is called 'forced awakening.'" Lu Ren leaned closer, lowering his voice like a shady merchant selling cheap cheats. "Your hardware is top-notch—height, wingspan, basketball IQ. But your system has too much antivirus software installed, filtering out any ball with even a slight risk. What we're doing now is turning off your firewall, forcing your CPU to run at full capacity."

"Even if it overheats and burns out?" Tsukishima retorted.

"If it burns out, just replace the fan." Lu Ren pointed to the substitute bench on the sidelines. "Yamaguchi's still waiting over there. If you can't handle it, he'll come on and get thrashed."

This tactic of provocation is very low-level.

But it was very effective.

Tsukishima glanced at Tadashi Yamaguchi on the sidelines. The guy who always followed him around calling "Tsukishima" was now looking over with a worried expression, clutching a towel tightly in his hand, as if he were ready to rush over and take a bullet for him at any moment.

"Tsk."

Tsukishima clicked his tongue in annoyance and pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose.

"In the next round, if that bald guy dares to pretend his shoelaces are untied again," Tsukishima's voice was icy cold, "I'll smash the ball into the back of his head."

"Deal." Lu Ren snapped his fingers.

The game continues.

Although Tsukishima had made a harsh statement, Karasuno and his group clearly had no intention of backing down. Sawamura Daichi was somewhat reluctant, but under Riku Ren's "for the child's sake" gaze, he could only grit his teeth and cooperate.

And so, Hotaru Tsukishima's hellish journey continues.

Senran High School discovered that although the tall guy on the other side looked like he wanted to go home, his defensive efficiency was ridiculously high. No matter how they changed their rhythm, that bespectacled guy could always appear in front of the ball at the last moment, like a ghost, touching the ball up, blocking it, or at least making a valid contact.

"One touch!"

Tsukishima landed and shouted. It wasn't a shout he wanted to make; it was muscle memory developed through training.

"Chance ball!" Nishitani Yuu leaped from the back row and steadily cushioned the ball that Tsukishima had blocked.

Tobio Kageyama has arrived.

"Who should we give the ball to?"

No need to ask.

Tsukishima in the front row is already useless, and Tanaka is being watched closely by the menacing net.

A streak of orange lightning flashed across the stadium.

Hinata Shoyo cut in from the right wing and received a pass from Kageyama high in the air, where he was unmarked.

"Bang!"

The floor is shaking.

Score.

"Yay!!" Hinata excitedly ran around the court after landing. "Tsukishima, your block was amazing! That ball felt like it was suspended in mid-air!"

Tsukishima was bent over, feeling the rust in his lungs. He didn't want to talk; he just wanted to find a place to lie down.

"That's the function of the 'filter'." Lu Ren stood behind him, holding a recorder. "You reduced the opponent's offensive power by 30%, leaving the remaining 70% to Nishinoya and Daichi. Then, during the counterattack, because your presence was so strong, the opponent had to split their forces to defend against you, creating an opportunity for Hinata and Asahi-senpai."

"Shut up," Tsukishima panted. "If you say another word, I'm going on strike."

"Alright, alright, let's rest for ten minutes." Lu Ren decided to stop while he was ahead.

Although Karasuno lost this practice match, the score was close at 23-25. Compared to being completely outplayed by Fukutani yesterday, this is a huge improvement.

Most importantly, Tsukishima Kei, this "rationalist," was finally forced to reveal a bit of her "wildness."

The cafeteria was bustling with noise during dinner time.

Tsukishima, carrying his plate, found the most secluded corner to sit down. Just seeing Lu Ren and Hinata's faces made his stomach ache.

"Um... Yue." Yamaguchi Tadashi carefully sat down opposite him. "Are you alright? You look... very tired today."

"I was just kidnapped by a bunch of lunatics." Tsukishima poked at the broccoli on his plate, not really having any appetite.

"But Yue was amazing today!" Yamaguchi's eyes sparkled. "Even Coach Senran praised your block."

Tsukishima's hand paused for a moment.

Is it great?

He only felt embarrassed. The feeling of being led by the nose, forced to desperately reach for the ball, was extremely unpleasant for someone as accustomed to controlling the rhythm of the game. But undeniably, the vibration from his fingertips when his hand firmly blocked the opponent's spike was indeed more intense than a well-planned block...

"Hey, you over there with glasses."

A lazy voice interrupted Tsukishima's thoughts.

He looked up and saw three people wearing different team uniforms standing not far away.

Tetsuro Kuroo, whose hair resembles a rooster's comb; Kotaro Mokuto, whose hair is black and white; and Kyoji Akaashi, who always has a blank expression.

"I heard you got really messed up by your own strategist today?" Kuroo Tetsuro said, carrying a tray with an inscrutable smile. "Want to come to the Third Gymnasium? We can teach you how to make your blocking... even more annoying."

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Come on, Glasses!" Wood Rabbit shouted indistinctly, his mouth full of meat. "My spikes are missing a blocker!"

"Bokuto-senpai, please swallow what's in your mouth before you speak." Akaashi calmly handed over a tissue.

Tsukishima instinctively wanted to refuse. He'd already exceeded his training limit for the day; to do more would be suicidal.

But Lu Ren's smug smile flashed through his mind, along with the words, "Your system has too much antivirus software installed."

If it's one of these people...

If it's the blocking core of Nekoma, and the top five outside hitter in the country, Fukutani...

Tsukishima pushed up his glasses, concealing the fleeting emotion in his eyes.

"I won't do it if it's just about picking up balls."

Blacktail's smile widened, the expression of a feline seeing its prey.

"Don't worry, I guarantee you'll enjoy it so much you won't want to leave."

In the distance, Lu Ren, hiding behind a vending machine, watched this scene and satisfiedly chewed the lollipop in his mouth.

"Now, the puzzle is complete."

"Your smile is disgusting." Qingze Yazhi appeared out of nowhere, holding two cans of iced cola, and casually slapped them against Lu Ren's face. "Who are you plotting against now?"

"What do you mean by scheming? This is called resource integration." Lu Ren shivered from the cold, took the cola and gulped it down. "That guy Tsukishima, we can't just force him. We need to let him see the real 'blocking master' and 'offensive monster.' Only after being crushed by a higher-dimensional force will he understand how fragile simple rationality is in the face of absolute power."

"and then?"

"And then?" Lu Ren watched Tsukishima's retreating figure as he followed Kuroo away. "Then he'll discover that to fight monsters, he must become a monster himself. Even a rational monster."

"That sounds so cringeworthy," Ya-zhi remarked.

"Volleyball is a sport for a bunch of chuunibyou (middle school syndrome) hot-blooded people." Lu Ren stretched, his knuckles cracking. "Let's go, we should get to work. That simpleton Kageyama is still waiting for me to teach him how to play volleyball with his brain."

The night in Tokyo was deep, but the lights in the stadium burned holes into the darkness.

The screeching sound of sneakers rubbing against the floor, the muffled thud of volleyballs hitting arms, and the tireless shouts of the boys intertwined to create a rhapsody called "Youth".

Meanwhile, inside the Third Gymnasium, a lesson on "blocking" and "penetrating" was just beginning. Karasuno's tallest shield was finally starting to actively hone its edges.

Of course, the price of all this is that Hotaru Tsukishima will most likely be so sore all over that she won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow. But that's a problem for tomorrow. For Karasuno right now, as long as she's still evolving, pain is the best fuel.