Haikyuu!!: The Disaster of Gamers

The volleyball stadium's dome was shrouded in a thick, sweltering heat, which was abruptly shattered by the sound waves emanating from the stands.

The Inarizaki cheering squad occupied half of the stands. All of them wore matching burgundy school uniforms, and the wind and percussion players were arranged like a quasi-military formation ready for a parade. With a wave of the baton, the brass instruments blared, and the snare drum struck out a beat precise to the millisecond.

The sound pressure level is ridiculously high.

Hinata Shoyo had just scooped a volleyball from the basket when his hand trembled, and the ball hit the instep of his foot. He covered his ears and turned to look up: "Is...is this really a high school club match? Did they bring their symphony orchestra?"

Tadashi Yamaguchi swallowed hard, his calves trembling.

Even the usually oblivious Ryunosuke Tanaka was a beat slow in his serve.

The grand spectacle of a powerful figure is itself a tactic. By using a unified and loud voice, they instill in challengers the psychological suggestion that "you have no chance of winning" even before the competition begins.

Lu Ren stood at the net, tossing the volleyball in his hand, his gaze sweeping across the opposite half of the court. Gong You and Gong Zhi were chatting and laughing as they passed the ball, not even glancing in their direction.

"It's so noisy." Hotaru Tsukishima pushed up her glasses, the lenses reflecting the cold light from the overhead lamp.

"Just a sonic attack." Lu Ren smashed the ball over the net, then dusted off the anti-slip powder on his hands after landing. He had long expected these people from Hyogo Prefecture to resort to such underhanded tactics. The most annoying thing about playing games is these kinds of weird mechanics that come with their own full-screen background music, buffing your own team and debuffing the enemy.

Fortunately, he had informed his father beforehand.

Lu Ren turned around and looked toward his own stands.

The support seats on Karasuno's side looked much thinner. Apart from the few familiar faces from the town's internal association, the most eye-catching were the black-clad bodyguards brought by Lu Jianguo, and the giant banner with red background and yellow lettering that read "Specializing in killing all kinds of dissent".

Lu Jianguo, dressed in a sharp, custom-made suit, stood by the railing. Noticing his son's gaze, the Sichuanese CEO slowly took off his sunglasses and gave an "OK" sign.

Lu Xin was holding a megaphone and clearing her throat.

Lu Ren breathed a sigh of relief. His father was always reliable; he must have poached some top-tier folk music ensemble from China with high salaries to bolster their performance. As long as the unique frequency band of the pentatonic scale was used to cut off the wind instrument harmonies on the other side, Inarizaki's rhythm would be disrupted.

In the stands, Lu Jianguo snapped his fingers.

Four elderly men dressed in black jackets with double-breasted fronts and melon-shaped hats stepped out from behind the bodyguards. What they held in their hands were not elegant string and wind instruments, but four gleaming suonas.

The other two old men, one holding a cymbal and the other a small gong.

Lu Ren's eyelids twitched, and he suddenly had an extremely ominous premonition.

The next second, the old man leading the group took a deep breath, his cheeks puffing out like two balls.

"Drip—tick—drip—"

The highly penetrating high-frequency sound waves penetrated directly through the dome of the volleyball stadium.

There is no harmony, no build-up.

It started with a barrage of the highest notes.

The suona, the rogue of the musical instrument world, reigns supreme among all instruments. This thing doesn't care about any acoustic principles; its existence is simply to cover up all sounds.

On Inarizaki's side, the originally neat sounds of French horns and trombones were all suppressed into a dull background noise in the face of this sharp tone.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The small gong and cymbals followed closely behind, striking out a rhythm that was both extremely down-to-earth and extremely urgent.

At Karasuno's halftime, all the players who were warming up stopped moving.

Sawamura Daichi's ball rolled out of bounds, and he stared at the stands with his mouth agape.

Sugawara Koji rubbed his ears and turned to look at Lu Ren: "Lu... what kind of band did your father hire? This music... it makes my knees go weak!"

Lu Ren's face turned deathly pale.

He could tell.

This is neither "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" nor "A Man Should Be Self-reliant".

This is authentic Sichuan folk funeral music – "The Grand Funeral Procession".

The kind specifically used to send off elderly people who have lived to a ripe old age.

"What the hell are you doing, old man!" Lu Ren roared inwardly. He had asked his father to play some penetrating music to counter the attack, instead of resorting to physical exorcism! If this tune were to play, several people in this venue would be carried away today.

From the stands, Lu Jianguo waved smugly to his son. Lu Xin raised a megaphone and shouted in a thick Sichuan accent, "Son! Give that idiot a good beating! Smash that moron on the other side!"

The static from the loudspeakers mingled with the mournful wail of the suona, echoing throughout the stadium.

The only thing missing was a few people dressed in mourning clothes kneeling and crying on the sidelines.

Inarizaki's support group was completely thrown into chaos.

The student conducting, drenched in sweat, frantically waved his baton, trying to bring the rhythm back on track. But the trumpet players' lips trembled, their tune swayed off-key by the suona's winding glissando, resulting in several broken notes. The drummer, as he played, found his drumsticks unconsciously following the clanging of the small gong, turning what was supposed to be a majestic march into a scene of a rural wedding or funeral.

The athletes on the field fared even worse.

Gong Yougang tossed a ball up, preparing to demonstrate his signature jump serve.

"Drip, drip, drip—"

A very high-pitched vibrato entered my ears.

Gong You slipped, ruining his jump rhythm, and his hand barely grazed the edge of the volleyball. The ball drew a soft arc in the air, hit the net, and bounced back to his own half of the court.

Gong Zhi walked over, picked up the ball, and looked at his brother expressionlessly: "Is your serve like you're bowing down to the other side?"

"Shut up!" Gong You gritted his teeth and rubbed his ears. "What the hell is that noise over there?! My brain is about to boil!"

Rintaro Kakunami didn't say anything, but silently covered both ears with his hands, his brows furrowed into a knot.

The art style on Karasuno's side has completely deviated.

Tanaka Ryunosuke clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and muttered, "Amitabha, Amitabha..."

Nishitani Yu nodded in agreement, "Ryu, this music is so soulful, I feel like my catching skills are about to be elevated."

"Sublimation my ass!" Coach Wu Yang jumped up and down in frustration on the sidelines, yelling at the stands, "Whose parent is that! Tell them to change the music! The match hasn't even started yet, and our own player has already been eliminated!"

Mr. Takeda frantically searched through the rulebook: "Is this...is this considered a violation of the rules? The rulebook doesn't seem to say that you can't play the suona..."

Lu Ren covered his face with one hand, experiencing for the first time in his life what "social death" meant.

He's a fun person, that's true, but he doesn't want to become the fun of the entire Japanese high school volleyball world.

"Riku." Tsukishima Hotaru walked over, her tone extremely calm. "Does your family not only have yakuza connections, but also run a funeral service business?"

"Get lost," Lu Ren squeezed out through gritted teeth.

"It's pretty good," Kageyama Tobio commented seriously. "Although it sounds awful, it disrupted the opponent's rhythm. That setter's footwork got messed up."

Hinata Shoyo nodded frantically beside him: "That's right! As soon as that beeping sound went off, I felt a surge of power throughout my body! I felt like I could jump to the ceiling!"

Lu Ren glanced at Hinata. What's wrong with this guy's nerves? How can he feel so excited listening to funeral music?

However, objectively speaking, Dad's "blind move" did have a surprising effect.

The airtight, oppressive aura that Inarisaki had built up with his support group was shattered by these few suonas. His original powerful presence vanished under the impact of "The Great Funeral".

The competition in the stands has completely overshadowed the athletes on the field.

Not to be outdone, Inarizaki's brass band, with the conductor biting his lip, ordered everyone to increase their volume, attempting to suppress the suona with the weight of the brass instruments.

Seeing this, Lu Jianguo sneered and made a hand gesture.

The old men took a deep breath, and the suona's range rose again, directly entering the ultra-high frequency howling stage. The cymbal player swung his arm in a wide arc, the two pieces of brass striking each other with a deafening roar.

"when--!"

One of the saxophonists in Inarizaki put down his instrument, clutched his chest, and squatted on the ground, his face contorted in pain.

The referee stood on the sidelines and blew his whistle twice, but the sound was completely drowned out by the cacophony of musical instruments. He helplessly spread his hands towards the referee, indicating that he was powerless to do anything about it.

"Alright." Sawamura Daichi clapped his hands, drawing the attention of the Karasuno team back to the stands. "Forget about the stands. No matter what music is playing, the match still goes on. Let's warm up before the other team catches up."

The Karasuno members snapped out of their daze and quickly returned to their respective positions.

But as everyone spiked the ball, the mesmerizing "drip-drip-drip" sound kept echoing in their minds.

Lu Ren walked to the net, where Gong You was staring at him fiercely.

"Are all the people of Miyagi Prefecture so lacking in martial ethics?" Miya Yu pointed at the stands, his fingers trembling.

Lu Ren sighed and spread his hands: "It's part of a tactical game. You can lead a symphony orchestra, and we'll lead a small team dedicated to preserving folk intangible cultural heritage. That makes perfect sense, right?"

Gong Zhi coldly chimed in from the side: "Intangible cultural heritage? I think it's a funeral procession."

"Thank you for your kind words." Lu Renshun accepted the offer. "This piece is called 'The Grand Funeral Procession.' It was specially prepared for you in Inarizaki today. You're welcome after the competition."

Gong You laughed in anger, twisted his neck, and his bones made a "crackling" sound.

"Good. Very good. I was just planning to play casually, but now I've changed my mind." Gong You's gaze was fixed on Lu Ren through the net. "I will crush you all, along with those old men in the stands who are just blowing their boots."

Lu Ren didn't reply.

He turned around and walked to the back row.

The system panel appeared before their eyes. The emotional values ​​of everyone in Inarizaki were soaring, and the normally calm and precise system showed slight fluctuations due to anger.

This is exactly the effect I wanted.

I'm not afraid of your high scores, I'm afraid of you never making mistakes. As long as your emotions fluctuate, the mechanical gears will not mesh properly.

"Beep—"

The referee finally managed to suppress the noise from the stadium through the microphone.

"Warm-up complete. Starting lineups for both teams enter the field."

Lu Jianguo raised his hand from the stands, and the suona horns stopped abruptly. A brief period of ringing filled the volleyball hall, and everyone felt the world had suddenly become eerily quiet.

Lu Ren took a deep breath, patted his cheeks, and cleared his mind of all those messy thoughts.

He walked to his seat and exchanged a glance with Tobio Kageyama.

The whistle blew.

Cross-server dungeon, Inari-zaki battle.

The fight officially began in an extremely ominous atmosphere.