Prince of Tennis: Shocking! Hyotei's Demon King is a Yukimura fangirl!

The final whistle pierced the sweltering air, its lingering echo still carried on the wind, as if all other sounds in the stadium had been sealed away.

The wind carried the acrid smell of melting plastic across the stands, and even the noisiest spectators were silent with their mouths agape. All eyes were fixed on the two players in the center of the field, as if they hadn't realized that the match, which had been going on for more than an hour, had come to an end.

One second, two seconds...

A minute passed.

The cheers erupted like a tidal wave, sweeping across the entire sports park.

"Atobe! Atobe!! Atobe!!!"

"The winner is Atobe! The winner is Hyotei!"

Hyotei's support team reacted and unfurled the red rose folding fans specially made for Atobe's victory. Hundreds of fans waved simultaneously, spelling out "Atobe Keigo" in gold foil under the sunlight.

The grey-blue Hyotei flag was vigorously waved by the team members in the front row, the flag fluttering loudly, and the slogans rose one after another, making the steps of the stands tremble slightly.

The surrounding audience joined in the applause, the cheers and applause spreading outwards. Regardless of which team they supported before the match, everyone was now cheering for this epic showdown.

Their palms clapping until they were red, but no one stopped.

-

The second warm-up field, not far from the main stadium, is an open area surrounded by iron netting.

Shinobu put his racket back into his racket bag, pushed up his glasses with his fingertips, and reflected in the lenses was Jiro, who was clinging to the wire mesh and looking towards the main court.

Cilang squatted on the ground, still clutching his racket, his curly hair a mess, and his lips pouting so much they could hang an oil bottle.

"Ling is going too far." He muttered, shaking the wire mesh, which made a soft rustling sound. "We're deskmates, but he always makes me his substitute and practice partner. You already have Aruo to warm up with, why drag me along? This game with Atobe is so interesting, I'll cry if I miss it."

Before I could finish complaining, I heard cheers coming from the main stadium. My ears perked up, and I immediately jumped up, not even bothering to pick up my racket which had fallen to the ground.

"It's over! It's over! Atobe definitely won!" He grabbed Shinobu's sleeve and dragged him towards the opponent with surprising strength. "Ugh...it's all your fault, all your fault! You insisted on dragging me here to warm up. I missed the last round of such an exciting match. I'm going to make Ryo pay me thirty dollars for a strawberry cake when we get back!"

Hiyoshi packed up his racket and followed behind the two, listening to the cheers around him. He spoke, but his eyes held a hint of youthful excitement.

"The minister will win."

Shinobu obediently let Jiro drag him away, shaking his head with a helpless smile, pushing up his glasses with his fingertips, "You still have the nerve to say that? Who was it that practiced for three minutes and then squatted down to yawn, refusing to move no matter what? Besides, this game was never in suspense, Tezuka's arm won't last long, Atobe winning was just a matter of time."

"That's different!" Jiro puffed out his cheeks and turned around. "Seeing Atobe win with my own eyes and hearing his voice are completely different experiences! What if Atobe comes up with a new move? What if he gets an incredibly cool smash? You'll regret it for a week if you miss it! I'm already regretting it!"

As he spoke, he pulled the two of them along, making them run even faster, their sneakers clicking on the hot cement.

Just as I turned past the entrance to the warm-up field, two people bumped into me.

Walking in front was a middle-aged man, wearing a light gray shirt with the collar pulled askew, his forehead covered in sweat, his brows furrowed tightly, his jawline taut, and his steps quick and hurried—clearly, he was suppressing his anger. Behind him followed a very pretty short-haired woman, clutching a wad of tissues, her eyes red-rimmed, and her steps slightly unsteady.

The two nearly bumped into Cilang. The man quickly stepped aside, his voice slightly hoarse, "Excuse me."

Shinobu reached out to support the staggering Jiro, glancing at the two of them.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." The woman quickly stopped, her voice trembling with tears. "Excuse me, how do I get to the temporary medical building of the Mochizuki Group? We...we're looking for our child."

Shinobu stepped aside to let him pass, then pointed to a small white building not far away. "Just walk straight down this road, then turn right and you'll see it. There's a medical station at the entrance; it's easy to find."

"Thank you, thank you so much." The woman nodded quickly and pulled the man along.

As the two passed each other, Shinobu heard the woman say in a low voice, "Brother Hiroshi, when you see Aron later, talk to him nicely, don't scold him. Coax him to go for the surgery first, we can talk about other things later. It's so hard to get an appointment with a specialist, it wasn't easy to coordinate a surgery, don't really delay it."

"I know." The man's voice was low and tinged with anger. "I want to ask that brat, how did a children's tennis match escalate to the point of needing surgery? The injury is so bad… we finally managed to get a specialist surgeon, and he just walked away. Does he even know how hard it is to book an appointment with a specialist? This time, it was only through the Mochizuki family's help that he was able to schedule it? Does he think his arm is made of iron?"

"Don't scold him," the woman said urgently, her steps quickening. "The child is definitely worried about the team..."

"You're so worried that you can joke around with your own arm? How much more difficult will daily life be in the future? Who will be responsible?"

The two voices gradually faded into the distance.

Shinobu paused for a moment, then turned around to look at the two figures from behind.

Aaron...

The image of that usually honest and simple boy, who would become energetic and passionate the moment he picked up a racket, flashed through his mind.

Takashi Kawamura? !

It turned out to be a family member from Kawamura.

"Yushi, what are you spacing out for?" Jiro tugged at his sleeve, his cheeks puffed out, stamping his foot in frustration. "Hurry up! The celebration will be over if we stay any longer!"

Shinobu snapped out of his daze, smiled, and without saying much, followed them toward the main stadium.

As soon as I reached the stadium entrance, cheers erupted from inside, whipping up a wave of hot air that hit my face. The sound was so loud it almost made my ears ring. The unique sea of ​​red fans dazzled in the sunlight, and the shouts of "Atobe!" were deafening.

Jiro's eyes lit up, and he forgot all about pulling Shinobu away. He took off running inside, his curly hair bouncing with each step.

Standing at the top of the steps, Shinobu's gaze fell upon the dazzling, imposing grey-white figure in the center of the court.

The boy stood in the middle of the crowd, his back straight, his chin slightly raised, the sunlight falling on his shoulders, making him seem to be glowing.

Shinobu chuckled softly, his tone tinged with pride, "Well, well, it seems we don't need to rush him; someone has already wrapped things up spectacularly. The King of Hyotei is the center of attention wherever he goes."

Hiyoshi stood beside him, his fingers tightening around his racket, his eyes burning with fighting spirit as he stared at the figure in the center of the court. "The captain is strong. One day, I will rise up against him."

Shinobu patted him on the shoulder. "That's ambitious. You'll have to train hard."

The Hyotei team members on the sidelines had already rushed in.

Shishido walked at the front, a slight smile appearing on his usually stern face. He reached out and punched Atobe on the shoulder, the force just right. "Captain, that was a nice punch!"

Feng followed behind, clutching a towel and a sports drink. Her ears were red, and her eyes sparkled as she handed it over. "Minister! You're amazing!"

Taki stood to the side, holding his tactical notebook, a faint smile on his lips. He was about to say something in agreement when he was pushed aside.

Behind him, Jiro squeezed through the crowd and pounced on Atobe with a "whoosh," hanging heavily on him and almost sending Atobe flying.

"Atobe, Atobe! You're so cool!" He buried his face in Atobe's shoulder, his voice muffled. "It's all Ryo's fault! He insisted on making me practice with him, and I didn't even see the last game! It's such a rip-off! You have to punish him by making the kitchen make an extra box of macarons to compensate me!"

Atobe frowned helplessly, but didn't push him away. He just reached out and pulled him aside by the back of his collar, saying with a disdainful tone, "How old are you? Still clinging to people and acting like a child. That's so unladylike."

"No, no," Cilang shook his head playfully.

The next second, his collar was grabbed by another hand.

Mochizuki Ryo appeared out of nowhere, carrying two tennis bags in one hand. With the other, he grabbed Jiro by the back of his collar and gently pulled him off Atobe. His movements were light, yet carried an unyielding force.

"Cilang," he said slowly, his azure eyes crinkling, though the smile didn't reach his eyes, "to complain in front of the person involved. Did you swallow that kind of courage along with the dessert?"

As soon as Cilang's feet touched the ground, his cheeks were pinched by two fingers and gently pulled to the sides.

"Hmm? Are you feeling wronged as a sparring partner?"

"Waaah... Ling, let me go!" Cilang slapped his hand, his cheeks pulled so hard he could barely speak, blinking desperately for help, "I was wrong, I was wrong!"

The people around laughed.

Shishido crossed his arms and snorted, turning his face away, but a slight smile played on his lips. Ootori stood beside him, covering her mouth and chuckling, her eyes shining. Taki opened his tactics notebook and found two more lines.

Seeing that no one was helping him, Jiro's eyes darted around, and he spotted Yukimura in the direction of the stands. He immediately shouted at the top of his lungs, "Captain Yukimura! Help me!"

Wang Yueling paused for a moment, then released his grip in less than a second.

He took a half step back, reverting to his refined and elegant demeanor, hands in his pockets, looking innocently toward Rikkai University, as if he hadn't been the one bullying people just now.

The speed at which he changed his expression left everyone secretly in awe.

Wang Yueling casually straightened Ji Lang's wrinkled team uniform collar, patted his shoulder, and spoke with a gentle and innocent tone.

"Just kidding. Right, Jiro?"

Cilang rubbed his cheek, glared at him, snorted, and squeezed into the middle of his teammates. Just as he was about to say something, another figure suddenly pounced on him from behind, rushing about in a flurry.

"Atobe!!!"

Mukahi Gakuto was hanging on Atobe's back, his voice frighteningly loud. His head was wrapped in thick gauze, and he was crookedly dressed. He was wearing a casual sports T-shirt and hospital pants with a pair of sweatpants over them, looking both comical and pitiful.

Everyone turned to look and froze for half a second.

"Makiri-senpai?!" Feng's eyes widened in surprise. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting in the hospital?"

Mukahiguma clung to Atobe, refusing to let go, and said matter-of-factly, "Of course I came! Hyotei won such an important match, how could I not be there! That last move, Ice Throne, was so cool! When did you learn to be so amazing? I didn't even know!"

Atobe swayed, his brows furrowed, and his tone was stern, "Who let you run away? Does having a concussion mean you can just run around like that?"

Xiang Ri immediately slid off his back and quickly hid behind Hua Di, only peeking out half of his head.

Kabaji stood ramrod straight, holding a towel and bottled water, like a small mountain protecting the person behind him. His face was expressionless, but his protective stance was very strong.

"It was...it was Ling who promised me! He said I could come!" Xiang Ri said confidently, her voice coming from beside Hua Di's arm.

As soon as she finished speaking, Wang Yueling reached out and pinched Xiang Ri's cheek, using slightly more force than when she pinched Ci Lang earlier.

"Oh? I agreed?" He spoke slowly, a hint of danger in his voice. "Yue Ren, you're being naughty. You're even lying to me now. Hmm?!"

"Ouch...it hurts!" Xiang Ri's cheeks were being pulled, and he couldn't even speak clearly.

"Serves you right." Shishido stood to the side with his arms crossed, his tone icy. "Instead of taking care of yourself, you ran around like that. If you faint again, who will care about you?"

When Cilang saw that someone else had their face pinched like he did, he stopped grumbling and started to gloat.

Feng quickly tried to smooth things over, taking half a step forward. "Senior Ling, Senior Xiang Ri just wanted to come and cheer on the minister. Why don't we let him off this time?"

Shinobu walked in, and seeing this, added with a smile, "Yeah, he was messaging me earlier to ask about the match. I couldn't stop him. He's already used all his skills, so maybe I should just let him stay here."

Kaba stood to the side and spoke slowly.

"I carried him here. The doctor said that as long as he doesn't overthink or do strenuous exercise, it's okay. Everyone, let's work together."

He spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly. The meaning was clear: this was the minister's victory, and they should celebrate in unison.

Wang Yueling released her grip and turned to look at the butler standing not far away.

Butler Haruno bowed slightly and stepped forward. "Young Master, Young Master Mukahi said he wanted to witness the Minister's victory in person, and I agreed since it's not far away. I've arranged for a dedicated medical staff to accompany him, so there won't be any problems. All the medicines and first-aid equipment are ready."

Wang Yueling pressed her fingertips to her brow, looked at Ri who was rubbing his cheeks with a droopy head, and felt a softening in her heart. She then looked at the smiles on the faces of the team members around her and finally relented.

"Since you're here, stay put. Don't wander off. If you're not feeling well, say so immediately." He held up a finger and tapped Xiang Ri's shoulder. "Go back and rest for a full week, not a single day less. If you sneak out again, you'll be banned from having desserts from now on."

"I knew Ling was the best!" Xiang Ri made a victory sign, jumped up and down twice, and smiled with his eyes crinkling.

Wang Yue Ling ignored him and turned to the butler, Haruno, instructing, "Take two people with the medical kit and go check on Tezuka Kunimitsu across the street. Do a preliminary check-up on the spot, just to be safe. Don't let anything go wrong. Um... leave the stretcher on the sidelines for now, and take him to the medical building if needed later."

"Yes, young master." Butler Haruno responded and turned to lead two medical staff toward the half of Seigaku Stadium.

Atobe, standing to the side, twitched his fingertips upon hearing this, but remained silent.

Wang Yueling glanced at him discreetly, secretly amused.

The atmosphere in Rikkai's stands wasn't much calmer than that at Hyotei.

Marui jumped up and down, waving his fist, then leaned on the railing and swung his legs. "Wow, Atobe's final 'Ice Throne' was so cool! It felt so much better than the initial version from the last training camp. Tezuka was really on fire until the very end; even after all that, he still hit over 50 balls on the last pitch. Isn't that a bit too much?"

He suddenly burst into laughter, pointed at Cilang in the audience whose face was being pinched, and laughed uncontrollably, "Look at Cilang, his face is all swollen from being pinched, hahaha, he's so pitiful."

"Hyotei's tactics are really well-planned." Kuwabara sat next to him, nodding earnestly. "Atobe's level is even more terrifyingly stable. No matter how Tezuka breaks through at the last minute, he can't shake the rhythm."

Kirihara squatted on the steps, his scraggly hair a mess, clenching his fists and shaking them excitedly. "I'm not only going to defeat Senior Ling and take down the three giants, but I'm also going to challenge Captain Atobe to a duel! Oh dear... why are there so many more people I have to defeat?"

Niou leaned back in his chair, his shoulders shaking with laughter. He reached out and ruffled Kirihara's seaweed-like hair, his tone teasing, "Akaya's got quite the ambition, huh? Show off your demonic control first. Don't let your mentality crumble before you even get on the field. Puri."

"Niou-senpai, stop touching my hair!" Kirihara shoved his hand away, puffing out his cheeks. "Don't underestimate me! I'm Rikkai's ace, the ace..."

Yagyu adjusted his glasses and spoke gently, "Having a goal is a good thing. Take it one step at a time, and you'll achieve it."

Liu closed his notebook with a soft click. He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Atobe in the center of the room, his voice flat and even.

"The score was 6-3. From the first game to the ninth game, Atobe's rhythm never faltered. The two levels of skill that Tezuka forced out in the last two games didn't disrupt his judgment on any of the shots. Tezuka pushed himself to the limit; his technique, his level of skill, and even his off-court guidance couldn't keep up."

"It has nothing to do with luck. It's all about the difference in hard work and ability."

Sanada loosened his fist, which he had been clenching for the entire match.

The white marks on his knuckles slowly faded, replaced by reddening and congestion. His gaze beneath the brim of his hat was deep, filled with admiration but also a heavy sense of crisis.

"Atobe Keigo is indeed very strong."

It offers two entry levels and a complete skill system.

Once we get back, we must double our training intensity. Before the national competition, we must perfect the "Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain" formation, and also quickly master the "Yin" and "Thunder" techniques.

We must not fall too far behind.

Yukimura sat in the front row, a half-open cat carrier beside him. He looked down at the little black cat in his arms, his fingertips gently stroking its fur.

Luna perched on his lap. When the cheers were loud, it had tucked its ears back and shivered in his arms. Now, hearing the familiar sounds from the field, it perked up its ears again, clung to his arm, and looked towards the field. Its round, heterochromatic eyes were fixed on the purplish-gray figure in the center of the field, and its little tail swayed gently back and forth.

Luna sat up straight, her little chest held high, like a little spectator watching the game attentively.

Yukimura found it interesting and gently poked its soft paw pads with his fingertip.

"Player Zero," he said softly, with a hint of amusement, "your captain from Hyotei won beautifully, didn't he?"

Luna raised her head and meowed, then looked down and fiddled with the "0" squad emblem embroidered on her chest, before looking up at Yukimura and tilting her head.

That little expression seemed to ask, "I'm a member of the team too, so why did all the other two-legged creatures go down to celebrate, and my human went too, but I'm the only cat left to stay in the stands?"

Yukimura's smile deepened. He gently scratched the kitten's chin with his fingertips, his voice soft and soothing, like he was coaxing a child, "Of course, King Kitten doesn't need to squeeze in with them. You can personally give Captain Atobe the award later, okay?"