Haikyuu!!: The Disaster of Gamers

Speed ​​up.

These two words can be written on a tactical board in just three seconds, but executing them on legs that have already run tens of thousands of meters and whose muscle fibers are screaming in agony is like forcibly injecting high-purity nitrogen into a scrapped engine that is already emitting black smoke.

After the score was tied 1-1, Tobio Kageyama indeed pushed the ball speed to its limit on that last shot.

The volleyball whistled through the air as it swept over the top of the net in a near-perfect arc. Hinata Shoyo gritted his teeth, desperately trying to push off the ground and take off. But 0.1 seconds after his brain gave the command, his calf muscles, which should have sprung like a spring, only twitched weakly, as if a rusty gear had jammed.

Not high enough. Not high enough at all.

Hinata's fingertips couldn't even touch the bottom edge of the volleyball; he could only watch helplessly as the ball, whistling through the air, flew directly out of bounds and crashed heavily onto the floor.

"Sorry..." Hinata's legs gave way when he landed, and he staggered a big step. His voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible. He braced himself on his knees with his hands, and large beads of sweat streamed down his nose, splashing onto the floor.

Kageyama Tobio didn't scold him, not even uttering his habitual "idiot."

This setter, who was almost obsessive about the precision of his passes and couldn't tolerate even the slightest imperfection, simply lowered his head in silence, vigorously wiping the cold sweat from his palms. He knew better than anyone that it wasn't that Hyuga didn't want to jump, but rather that the "hardware" of this precision instrument was on the verge of completely breaking down.

On the other side of the net, the formation of the Shikazaka team was so stable it was terrifying.

Usuri Mitsuru stood there, his fingers lightly smoothing his sweat-soaked jersey, his eyes revealing a knowing, mocking coldness. He saw through Karasuno's bluff. This forced acceleration style of play, while indeed a deadly weapon when players are full of energy, was more like a suicidal charge launched with an empty gun in the hands of a Karasuno team that was struggling to even stand.

"Ah-Ba, they're getting anxious," Usutoshi said softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Kiryu Hachi didn't speak, only nodded silently. His slightly aged face was devoid of any emotion, like a bulldozer without feelings. He took another step back and ran, his heavy, solid footsteps sounding particularly abrupt in the arena, each step seeming to pound on the hearts of the Karasuno fans.

It's that same old trick again.

An irrational, purely violent aesthetic assault.

Even though Karasuno's serve was barely in place, and even though Kageyama and Tsukishima had done their best to block most of the lines, Kiryu Hachi was still able to forcefully "smash" the ball into that fleeting, tiny gap with his terrifying muscle mass.

"boom!"

5:10.

In less than five minutes, the score difference was quickly widened by Kasaka in an almost brutal manner.

Karasuno's defenses began to experience widespread "frame drops".

Lu Ren stood at position one, panting heavily. He felt his retinas going black, and the sounds around him seemed to come from different directions. These were typical signs of severe oxygen deprivation in his brain. In his view, the once clear, data-driven model of the game was crumbling inch by inch. The opponents' running trajectories became blurred, and the delay in predicting the ball's trajectory, which had previously been 0.01 seconds, was now mercilessly stretched to 0.5 seconds.

In a top-level competition like the semifinals, a 0.5-second delay is equivalent to forfeiting.

"Substitution! Referee!"

Wu Yangxixin suddenly stood up on the sidelines and decisively raised his sign. The veins on the back of his hand bulged.

Narita Kazuhito replaced Hyuga Shoyo, and Kinoshita Hisashi replaced Tanaka Ryunosuke.

This is Karasuno's last remaining bench depth, and their final trump card.

But this isn't a tactical rotation; it's a forced extension of life.

When Hyuga came down from the stage, he was practically carried, half-supported, by Sugawara Koji. He slumped onto the bench, his chest heaving violently, like a fish thrown onto a dry riverbed, gulping for air. Ukai Shishin remained silent, pressing the ice pack firmly against Hyuga's burning nape, a deep pity flashing in his eyes.

However, the situation on the field did not improve in the slightest despite the addition of new players.

Narita worked incredibly hard, and Kinoshita fought tooth and nail, scrambling and crawling to save every single ball. But Kojima was the kind of team with statistical anomalies. Their average height, core strength, and even the consistency of their catches were all maintained at an extremely high level.

When Karasuno lost the sharp threat of "Weird Man Fast Attack" and the disruptive power of "Strongest Decoy", the remaining Chimera system was like an old computer missing its core processor, running at a hopelessly slow speed.

8:15.

Usuriman's serve is coming again.

His sharp eyes fixed on Kinoshita Hisashi, who had just entered the court and was still a bit stiff on his feet. He smashed a deep ball with strong sidespin directly into the corner of the baseline. Kinoshita's reaction was a beat too slow, and his arm movement was severely distorted when he hastily received the ball, sending the volleyball flying high into the stands.

"Never mind! Get the next ball back!" Daichi Sawamura shouted hoarsely.

The captain, who was usually as steady as a mountain, had a hoarse voice that sounded like sandpaper. He had received too many spikes today, and there was a faint, glaring blood seeping from the base of his thumb; his legs were also trembling slightly.

It is worth noting that Lu Ren launched almost no proactive attacks in the middle and later stages of this game.

He's like a broken sensor, only able to mechanically fill in gaps and receive the ball using muscle memory.

His thigh was cramping violently.

The excruciating pain from the twisted muscle fibers made every step he took and every push off the ground feel like walking barefoot on a knife's edge.

Interestingly, Kasaka doesn't seem to be in a hurry to completely crush Karasuno. They seem to be playing a cruel cat-and-mouse game, using Kiryu Hachi's individual abilities to constantly disrupt the first pass, while coldly watching Karasuno scramble and struggle on the court to save that one ball.

This is the most sophisticated and also the most psychologically damaging form of attrition warfare.

"Beep—!"

Uyang gritted his teeth and requested a second pause.

10:20.

This glaring score, displayed on the big screen, practically meant an early death sentence on the semi-final stage.

The Karasuno team members shuffled over, none of them sitting down. They all knew that once that last breath was gone, once they sat down, they would never be able to stand up again.

The air was thick with the smells of plasters, sweat, and a sense of oppressive despair.

"Tactically, we haven't lost." Wu Yangxi looked at the group of wounded players, his eyes slightly red, and gave instructions quickly, "But our bodies aren't cooperating. Listen, from now on, don't force any more wide-ranging saves. Hold your positions and get every point you can!"

It's actually quite cruel to hear such words from a coach who is usually tough and passionate.

This means that he has come to terms with reality and has begun to plan for the second game, or even "how to lose the first game gracefully".

Kageyama Tobio stared intently at the floor, his hand gripping the towel tightly, his knuckles white. For the first time, a somber emotion of "powerlessness" appeared in his eyes, which were always brimming with defiant fighting spirit. He could deliver the most perfect pass, but he was not a god after all, unable to deliver the magic potion that could instantly revive his teammates.

Lu Ren leaned against the cold GG sign, panting heavily. His gaze went over the net to the entire Kasaka team on the other side, who were chatting and laughing, drinking water and resting, looking relaxed.

In his "game thinking," the difficulty of this level far exceeds the current character's level cap.

This isn't just a matter of the final boss being too strong.

Our mana bar was completely empty, our health bar was almost empty and flashing red, we even pried off a few keys from the keyboard, and the mouse was disconnected.

"Hey, Lu Ren." Tsukishima Hotaru dragged her heavy steps over, pushing up her precariously hanging glasses with trembling hands. "Are you still calculating?"

Lu Ren looked up at him with difficulty. Tsukishima's face was as white as a wet sheet of paper, and he didn't even have the strength to utter his usual sharp tongue.

"I can't calculate anymore." Lu Ren forced a smile, revealing a self-deprecating expression that was more like a grimace. "The CPU is overheating and has already been forced to reduce its frequency."

"Is that so?" Tsukishima responded softly, then turned away without saying anything more, her eyes vacant.

The pause has ended.

Returning to the field, Karasuno resembled a flock of crows with broken feathers, struggling to hold on against the relentless, flowing attacks of Kazusa.

Dong Fengxu gritted his teeth on the left wing and hit an extremely beautiful straight shot, managing to win back a point.

But it was like a final burst of energy before death.

Then, Kiryu Hachi demonstrated to everyone what it means to have the "resolve of a top ace" in front of the net.

Usuri Mitsuru set a near-net ball in an extremely awkward position, a ball that would almost certainly result in a fatal error for an average attacker. But Kiryu Hachi, relying on his terrifying hang time, used his powerful wrist strength to forcefully brush the ball past the fingertips of the blocker just as his body was about to fall.

12:23.

The cheers from the entire audience had completely turned in favor of Kazusa.

The overwhelming pressure made the young people of Karasuno feel an unprecedented sense of suffocation and despair.

This despair isn't because the opponent used any underhanded tricks, but because even though you clearly saw their movements and your brain knew how to defend, your body felt like a heavy shell that didn't belong to you, stuck in place, unable to move.

The last goal.

Mawman launched an extremely aggressive fast attack at the net.

Kageyama Tobio's brain had already anticipated the location, and he did indeed desperately reach out and touch the edge of the ball.

But the force attached to the ball was too great.

That was a full-force attack from a state of peak physical condition.

"Bang!"

The volleyball bounced heavily off Kageyama's fingers with a dull thud, flying directly towards the glaring light fixture on the ceiling before limply falling to the ground and crashing onto the floor of Karasuno's half of the court.

15:25.

The first game is over.

The two sides exchanged venues.

As Lu Ren walked toward the rest area, his vision suddenly went black, and he stumbled, almost falling to his knees on the hard floor.

Sawamura Daichi reacted quickly and grabbed his arm tightly.

The moment their skin touched, Lu Ren could clearly feel that the captain's palms were covered in cold sweat, and his entire arm was trembling violently.

"Lu Ren, can you still see the other side clearly?" Sawamura Daichi asked in a low voice, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.

Lu Ren remained silent for a moment.

He turned his head to look at the glaring red score on the big screen, and then looked at his teammates around him who didn't even have the strength to look up at the score, as if their souls had been drained.

In his mind, which was usually always able to find loopholes and strategies and operate like a supercomputer, there was now a glaring red alert, with "ERROR" displayed all over the screen.

No tactic can bridge this level of power disparity.

This is not a game that can be completed by exploiting bugs.

This is the cold, cruel reality.

The reality is that when your hardware can no longer keep up with the logic of the software, the only outcome for the system is complete collapse.

"I can't see it." Lu Ren spoke the truth, his voice carrying an extreme weariness he had never experienced in his two lifetimes. "Captain, I don't see any chance of winning."

Daichi Sawamura was suddenly stunned.

In his eyes, Lu Ren was always a terrifying monster who could pull out the "Chimera" tactic even in the deepest abyss and could use trash talk to dismantle the opponent's mentality.

When even this "monster" who always has a backup plan says he can't see an opportunity, then it might truly be an irreversible dead end.

The rest area was deathly still.

Hinata Shoyo was still gritting his teeth and trying to stand up, but his knees were trembling violently, and he kept falling back down.

Kageyama Tobio sat in the chair, his head buried deep in his knees, his shoulders twitching slightly.

Wu Yangxi mechanically wiped the sweat from the team members' brows with a towel, his usual enthusiasm completely gone, his eyes somewhat unfocused.

Lu Ren took the water that Qingze Yazhi handed him, tilted his head back and took a sip, but found the water so bitter that it was hard to swallow, as if he were swallowing sand.

He turned his head and looked towards the stands.

Lu Jianguo was still pounding the drum, but the sound had lost its initial powerful momentum and sounded somewhat dull and hoarse.

Ya-zhi looked at him with concern, her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest. She opened her mouth, but couldn't utter the seemingly pale "Keep going."

Lu Ren closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the air, which smelled of sweat.

This was the first time since he came into this world that he had felt this deep-seated, bone-chilling powerlessness that made him unable to even lift a finger.

This feeling was ten thousand times worse than when he practiced all night in his previous life and was scolded mercilessly by the provincial team coach.

Because at that time he was confident that as long as he kept practicing and sweated enough, he would become stronger.

Now, he has done everything he could, squeezing every last drop of potential out of the team.

The result was a near-massacre and utter defeat.

"The floor in the semi-finals..." Lu Ren murmured, his hands gripping the knee brace tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. "So this is how hard it is."

"Beep—!"

The whistle that signaled the start of the second round sounded mercilessly and piercingly, urging these wounded and disabled soldiers to once again step onto the execution ground.

Lu Ren slowly opened his eyes.

In those bloodshot eyes, filled with extreme exhaustion, a faint but incredibly intense spark suddenly ignited deep within the ashes of despair.

Since the conventional strategies are no longer working.

Since the hardware is already obsolete.

Before it's completely destroyed, let's overclock it up and blow it up together.

Lu Ren loosened his grip on the protective gear, supported himself on his knees, and stood up, swaying but with unwavering determination.