Haikyuu!!: The Disaster of Gamers

Before the whistle had even finished blowing, the tension in the air was tightened even more.

Lu Ren stood at the baseline, spinning the yellow and blue volleyball in his hand at breakneck speed, the tactile sensation of fingerprints rubbing against its surface clear and real. The scoreboard's "2:0" felt like an invisible slap across the faces of the group of boys with different hair colors on the other side of the net.

"Tsk, that's pretty thick of a health bar."

Lu Ren narrowed his eyes, his gaze scanning over Shan Nan's back row like a scanner. The libero's position was noticeably shifted half a step to the left—a muscle memory triggered by the first ball, he was subconsciously protecting his backhand side.

Human fear is the best signpost.

Lu Ren threw the ball, giving his opponents little time to breathe.

This shot had no fancy feints, just pure, brutal aesthetics. The body extended to its limit in the air, like a fully drawn bow, and the sound of the forearm swinging out of the air even reached our ears before the ball hit the ground.

"Bang--!"

The sphere was flattened, and then, like a solid cannonball, it hurtled towards the south half of the field with heat enough to scorch the air.

"I'll do it!!"

The libero from the south let out a roar, but his voice was clearly trembling. He judged the landing point correctly and moved his body, but his brain couldn't keep up with the ball's speed. He practically "threw" himself into the ball's flight path, hastily bringing his arms together.

The ball made a dull thud the moment it hit the forearm.

"So heavy..." The libero's face contorted instantly, his entire body thrown backward by the force of the ball's impact. Instead of bouncing obediently towards the setter's position, the volleyball, like an uncontrollable drunkard, flew erratically out of bounds.

"Fix it! Fix it quickly!!"

The setter from the south rushed out of the three-meter line in a disheveled state, his shoes screeching as they scraped against the floor. He managed to scoop the ball back with one hand just before it hit the ground, but this hardly counted as a "pass"; it was simply throwing away a hot potato.

The ball floated limply across the net, posing no threat whatsoever.

"An opportunity ball!"

Sawamura Daichi's voice was as steady as a rock. He didn't even need to move much; he simply crouched slightly and steadily raised the ball with both hands. The pass was perfect, and the ball flew in a perfect parabola straight towards Kageyama Tobio's head.

At that moment, Karasuno's front row instantly started moving.

Like a bull that has seen a red cloth, Tanaka Ryunosuke roared and charged toward the net. The anger that had been provoked by Lu Ren's words about "mass-produced NPCs" was now all transformed into the kinetic energy for his run-up.

"Make way—!!"

Kageyama's pass was incredibly accurate; the ball traced a clean straight line in the air and stopped precisely at the highest point of Tanaka's arm swing.

Without hesitation, without testing the waters.

Tanaka stretched himself into a bow in mid-air, swung his arm in a wide arc, and slammed it down hard.

"boom!"

The volleyball bounced off the floor and flew straight up into the second-floor stands. The blocker from the south didn't even have time to fully jump before the ball hit the ground.

3: 0.

"Well done, bald guy! That basic attack was way too much damage!" Lu Ren whistled from the back row and clapped twice without any real sincerity.

Tanaka landed and whirled around, veins still throbbing on his forehead, waving his fist at Lu Ren: "You bastard, Ren! Who's bald?! This is a monk's head! And what's a basic attack? This is a finishing move! Don't you understand finishing moves?!"

"Yes, yes, yes, that's the finishing move." Lu Ren waved his hand dismissively, turned around and walked back to the service area. "Hurry up and get back to defense, I'm going to start the next game."

On the other side of the net, the atmosphere in the south visibly sombered.

The outside hitter with brown hair scratched his head hard, his eyes glazed over: "Wow...really? That bald guy jumped way too high! And that guy serving, is he a monster?"

"Stop talking nonsense!" Captain Towada gritted his teeth, his face contorted with a thug-like bluff to mask his inner panic. "We've only conceded three points! As long as we get back... as long as we get back just one ball, we can disrupt their rhythm! Don't get scared!"

Despite shouting that, Towada's palms were sweaty.

He stared at the languid-looking number 13 at the baseline, and a growing unease crept into his heart. That guy, despite seeming completely unmotivated, why did he exude an even stronger sense of pressure than the reigning champion, Oikawa Tetsu?

That look... it wasn't looking at the opponent at all, but at a pile of data waiting to be processed.

Lu Ren got the ball again.

He tapped the baseline twice lightly. The vibrations returning from the floor felt pleasant to him.

"Those continuous powerful jump serves are taking a toll on my stamina..." Lu Ren thought to himself. "Although my stamina bar is much longer than before, there's no need to be at red health in the first round. But, those guys on the other side should be on edge by now, right?"

Since that's the case, let's add another straw.

He looked up, his gaze passing over the net, locking onto the back right corner of the Nanami court. That was the junction of two defensive zones, the gray area most prone to hesitation about "who should receive the ball."

Throw the ball.

approach.

This time, the jump height was slightly lower than before, but the arm swing speed was faster. Lu Ren's wrist made an extremely subtle downward pressing motion at the moment of contact with the ball.

The ball, like a scalpel, precisely sliced ​​through the air.

It lacked the explosive force of the previous attack, but instead carried a chilling killing intent as it headed straight for that blind spot.

"Back row!!"

As soon as Towada roared, the two back-row players from the south moved at the same time.

The person on the left assumed the person on the right would respond, while the person on the right assumed the person on the left would move. A fatal freeze occurred in their movements at that crucial moment.

In that fraction of a second of hesitation, the ball grazed their fingertips and landed.

"Smack."

The sound wasn't loud, but it felt like a heavy hammer blow to the hearts of everyone in Shannan.

4: 0.

The two players in the back row made a desperate diving save, but ended up colliding with each other and could only watch helplessly as the ball rolled on the ground.

Dead silence.

The entire stadium seemed to have been drained of air by that one shot.

"I'm so sorry..." one of the team members scrambled to his feet, his face pale. "I thought you would go..."

"Stop talking," Towada interrupted him, his voice a little hoarse. He slapped his cheeks hard, trying to shake off the feeling of "despair." "It's okay! It was just a good serve! As long as we cut off the serve, that's enough! Next ball! We have to return the next ball!"

This kind of shouting is common in competitive sports and is often referred to as "mental victory."

Lu Ren stood at the baseline, listening to the shouts from the other side, a cold smile curving his lips.

"That's really tenacious, that kind of spirit from a shonen manga's underling."

He rubbed his shoulders. Four consecutive full-force serves had started to cause lactic acid buildup in his shoulders. Although his physical condition had improved dramatically after Coach Zhao Gang's grueling training, resource management was still an essential skill for a qualified "pro player."

"It's about time to change our approach."

Lu Ren tossed the ball again.

This time, his approach rhythm was completely different. There was no aggressive sprinting feeling; instead, it carried an eerie lightness.

The Shannan team members retreated to the vicinity of the baseline as if facing a formidable enemy, preparing to receive the next round of heavy artillery bombardment. Seeing Lu Ren jump, they instinctively lowered their center of gravity, their muscles tensing to the extreme.

however.

Lu Ren did not strike the ball with his palm like a whip, but instead used the heel of his palm to give a short "push" at the center of the ball.

Jump float ball.

The sphere remained completely still in the air; its previously aggressive trajectory suddenly became erratic, like a withered leaf caught in the wind, wobbling and drifting across the net, and then—

It plummeted.

"Varied--?!"

The libero's pupils contracted sharply. He had been prepared to receive a powerful slam dunk, his center of gravity was all back, and this sudden change in speed made him feel as if he had been nailed to the spot.

"Front...front!!"

Despite his disheveled state, his survival instinct kicked in and he reacted. He lunged forward, crashing to the floor like a fish out of water, managing to cushion the ball with the back of his hand.

"Received it!!"

Someone in the stands gasped in surprise.

Although the return of the ball was ugly, it flew high into the air and spun as it landed near the three-meter line.

"Counterattack!!" Towada roared, veins bulging on his neck. This was the first real contact they'd made with the ball in this game, and they couldn't afford to waste it.

The setter from Okinawan rushed over and, before the ball hit the ground, held it up with both hands: "Towada-senpai!"

Towada cut in from the left wing. Although his footwork was a bit erratic, his eyes were filled with a fierce glint. He wanted to vent all the frustration he had endured over the past few minutes on this ball.

"Don't underestimate us!!"

He leaped high into the air, swinging his arms in a wide arc.

However, the moment his gaze passed over the net, a tall, thin figure stood before him like a wall.

Hotaru Tsukishima.

This bespectacled guy, who usually seems to lack motivation, suddenly appeared like a precise instrument, accurately positioned in the path of the attack. His hands didn't blindly extend forward; instead, they pressed down slightly, blocking all angles for the spike.

That look in his eyes was as cold as if he were looking at a fly that had crashed into a window.

"It's too obvious."

Tsukishima silently recited in his heart.

"Snapped!"

Towada's spike slammed into Tsukishima's palm. The immense recoil sent the ball bouncing back.

"Damn it!" Okinawan's middle blocker reacted quickly, diving to save the rebounding ball. The ball flew high, over the net, and landed in Karasuno's backcourt.

Opportunity ball.

Moreover, it's the most comfortable, perfect, and threatening high ball.

Lu Ren was already standing at the landing point. He didn't even need to move; he simply tilted his head slightly and watched the orange sphere come into view.

"Thanks, that was an easy question."

He raised his hands, his movement so precise it could be in a textbook. The ball, with a soft arc, landed precisely in Kageyama Tobio's hands.

At this moment, time seemed to stretch out.

Kageyama Tobio stood in front of the net, his back to Riku Ren, but he could feel the urging from behind him to "quickly end this boring round".

At the same time, an orange bolt of lightning tore through the air.

Hinata Shoyo.

He started from the other end of the court, cutting diagonally, so fast that he left a blur on my retina.

"Give it to that shorty?!" Shan Nan's blocking hand had just landed and hadn't even had time to adjust his center of gravity when he was startled by the sudden speed.

At the moment Kageyama's fingers touched the ball, his wrist flicked extremely gently.

The ball, like a precision-guided missile, vanished from his hand in an instant and reappeared in front of Hinata Shoyo the next second.

Hanging in the air.

Hinata Shoyo's eyes were closed in mid-air—no, he had opened them since the special training. His amber eyes reflected the patterns of the volleyball and the terrified expression of the opposing blocker.

"Whoosh!"

A hand swept across.

The ball hit the three-meter line in the south half of the court with a crisp thud, then bounced high into the air.

At that moment, Shan Nan's blocker had just jumped.

This is the evolved version of "Weird Man Fast Attack".

5: 0.

The referee blew his whistle, and the scoreboard flipped over again.

Hyuga landed, clenched his fist excitedly, and turned to shout at Kageyama, "Kageyama! That ball was amazing! It came flying by in a flash!"

"Shut up, you idiot! As long as you get to the right spot, the ball will naturally arrive!" Although Kageyama had a stern face, he couldn't hide the smugness in his eyes and brows.

Lu Ren strolled back to his position, and as he passed Hinata, he reached out and ruffled the boy's orange hair: "Well done, little monster. But next time you jump, don't scrunch up like a steamed bun; it affects the team's appearance."

"Aren!" Hinata protested.

Lu Ren ignored him and turned to look at the other side of the net.

The area south of the mountain was completely silent. The silence wasn't calm; rather, it was a pervasive feeling of despair.

Five points.

The first five points seemed like an insurmountable chasm. Serves, blocks, quick attacks—every weapon in Karasuno's arsenal was enough to crush their defense.

Towada braced himself on his knees, breathing heavily. He stared at the floor, sweat dripping from his chin.

"Is this... the difference between being able to travel nationwide?"

The thought flashed through his mind, but he immediately shook his head violently.

No, it's not over yet.

But when he looked up and met Lu Ren's calm, expressionless eyes, the faint flame in his heart seemed to be doused with a bucket of ice water.

Lu Ren stood there, barely sweating. He gently twirled the volleyball with his fingers, his posture seemingly saying:

"What? The game has only just begun, and you're already quitting?"