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

The referee's announcement echoed above the stadium.

The stands were silent for two seconds, then erupted in a burst of excitement. Some whistled, some clapped, and some shouted "Hyotei, go!" Dozens of fans from the Hyotei support group fluttered in unison, their golden surfaces forming a dazzling sea in the midday sun. The girls in the front row waved their support signs until their wrists ached, their faces flushed with excitement.

The shouts bounced off the netting and mingled with a new wave of noise, making the whole stadium feel like a boiling pot.

"Brown Bear Net... That last shot by Shinobu, was it Brown Bear Net?" someone shouted into their companion's ear, their tone full of disbelief. "Wait a minute, isn't that Fuji's signature move? How could Shinobu know it?"

"Could it be that he learned it in just two games?"

The Hyotei girls in the front row, with their ponytails and holding their support fans, immediately turned around, chin held high: "What 'stealing techniques'? You're so ignorant. Catching a brown bear isn't Seigaku's exclusive skill. Is it so strange that our Oshitari's 'Thousand Skills' would include this?"

A middle-aged man in the front row wearing a coaching badge nodded, tapping his notebook with his fingertips: "They're definitely not the same thing. Hyotei's angle for deflecting the force of the 'Brown Bear' smash is much more reasonable than Fuji's. You see, when he presses down with his back to the basket, the rotation of his shoulder is a few degrees smaller than Fuji's, but the wrist's deflection stroke is a bit longer. This preserves the effect of deflecting the smash's force while shortening the time for the racket to return to its original position."

"In terms of completeness, he's more seasoned than Fuji."

The person sitting next to him was a young man in a blue polo shirt, holding a camera with a telephoto lens. He turned around upon hearing this and asked, "You are...?"

"I used to coach a junior team at JTA." The middle-aged man waved his hand, not elaborating on who he was, and then looked back at the court. "The point isn't that he knows this move, but that he fixed its weakness. The biggest problem with Fuji's Brown Bear net shot is that the follow-through is too slow. After hitting a ball, he has to strike a pose, and if the opponent is prepared, they can seize that half-beat opening. Shinobu's version shortens the follow-through time by almost a third, making it much smoother."

The young man in the blue polo shirt nodded thoughtfully: "So, if that's the case, both players on the field will be caught by the brown bear now, but Fuji's outfit has become a defective product?"

The middle-aged man didn't reply, but simply shook his head slightly. "To be honest, Shinobu's version is truly unsolvable."

A girl in the Hyotei support group immediately chimed in proudly, her voice crisp and clear: "That's right, our Shinobu's 'genius' title isn't for nothing."

……

The murmurs drifted to the center of the field, and Shinobu lightly flicked his wrist. There was only a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and his breathing was as steady as if he had just finished warming up. He glanced up at the coaching bench, where Mochizuki Ryo had just folded the handkerchief used to wipe the trophy and put it in his pocket when he looked up and met his gaze.

Her azure eyes remained calm, and she nodded very slightly, the gesture almost imperceptible.

Shinobu felt a little relieved.

Not bad, these two months of training weren't a waste.

His lips curled into a slight smile, but he quickly suppressed it. He knew perfectly well that a two-game lead didn't constitute a win.

The Seigaku members always seem to have a strange, stamina-boosting streak; the closer they get to the brink, the more they seem to come up with something new. The truly troublesome part might just be yet to come...

On the other side, Fuji stood still, watching the ball roll to the side of the barrier and stop, then slowly exhaled. He bent down, picked up the ball from beside his feet, and held it in his hand, his fingertips stroking the fluffy surface of the ball.

6 minutes.

Just 6 minutes.

His two counterattacks were cleanly and decisively refuted.

While I didn't get a single point, my opponent had already won two rounds.

His breath hitched.

In that instant, Shinobu's back-down press angle, the way he released the force, and the control of the ball's landing point were all far more precise than his. Moreover, the follow-up motion after that back-down press was clean and crisp, without any unnecessary frills, the racket face naturally returned to its original position, and the center of gravity immediately returned to center.

That's something he usually can't do after he's caught a brown bear.

After executing this move, he usually holds the extended posture with his back turned for two to three seconds to maintain balance and visual effect, with a slight pause in the transition from pressing down to returning to the starting position.

This was his habitual movement, and he had never thought there was anything wrong with it before; he even thought it was part of the move.

But Shinobu's finishing move was half a beat faster than his.

The buzzing of voices around me surged in like a tide...

"Two sets have passed, is it really 2-0?"

"Is Fuji in such bad form today? He can't even win a single game?"

"It's not Fuji who's weak, it's just that Oshitari is too strong today! He broke all of Fuji's special moves and even scored points using Fuji's moves instead."

"My god, this year's Hyotei team is terrifying! Captain Atobe is incredibly strong, and Oshitari is just as good."

"Seigaku... if they lose this game, they'll be eliminated."

……

These sounds slid past Fuji's ears like water, but he pretended not to hear them, his eyelashes drooping down to conceal the emotions in his eyes.

The atmosphere in the Seigaku stands was as oppressive as the rumble of thunder before a storm.

Everyone kept their heads down, and no one spoke.

Kikumaru bit his lower lip, his eyes slightly red. Oishi opened his mouth, wanting to say something encouraging, but looking at Fuji's back on the field, he couldn't utter a word. Inui's pen flew across his notebook, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

The data is incorrect!

Oshitari's scoring efficiency in this round was 2.7 times that of Fuji during the Metropolitan Tournament. His strength and speed increased by over 40%, and the change in his mentality was even more significant…

He used to leave room for probing when he played, but in those two games today, he left almost no openings for him to exploit.

This is completely outside the scope of pre-match predictions.

Ryoma Echizen pulled down his hat brim, a hint of seriousness flashing in his amber eyes. He sighed softly; this was a confrontation on a completely different level.

Three first-year students huddled together by the railing at the very front of the stands. Horio gripped the pole of the support flag so tightly that the pole bent slightly: "It's only been two innings... only two innings. There's still a chance later. Fuji-senpai will definitely catch up."

Katsuro nodded beside him, but the nod was very small, and he didn't even realize that his voice was weak: "Yes... Fuji-senpai is the best at playing from behind, he will definitely have a way."

Shengxiong didn't say anything, but just gripped the hem of his clothes and stared intently at the field.

Long Qijin stood with her arms crossed beside the coach's bench, her face extremely grim. She knew that Renji had made great progress, but she hadn't expected the leap to be this drastic.

I couldn't help but sigh inwardly, this was nowhere near the level of the Kanto Tournament qualifiers.

Ryuzaki Jin lowered her hands and placed them on her knees. Her gaze fell on Fuji's right hand, which was holding the racket. The boy's fingers moved three times on the handle, pausing for a moment on the third move.

She's known me for no more than two or three years.

The frequency with which he changes his grip position is usually directly proportional to the level of anxiety he feels.

As Ryuzaki Jin thought about this, she subconsciously turned her head and looked towards the direction of the Hyotei coaching bench next to her.

The blond boy stood up and straightened the hem of his team uniform. His movements were slow and leisurely, exuding an air of nonchalance. Yet, this very person, standing on the sidelines, emanated a stronger sense of pressure than the players on the court.

Long Qijin's heart skipped a beat.

In the third game, can Fuji hold on?

On the Rikkai University stands, Marui blew a fairly large bubble from the candy in his mouth, which popped with a "pop." He licked the candy residue from the corner of his mouth and nudged Kuwabara next to him with his elbow.

"Jack, did you see Shinobu's shot just now?"

Kuwabara nodded, touching his bald head; his palms were slightly sweaty. "I saw it. The brown bear was caught. He scored the point using Fuji's signature move."

"This is interesting." Marui chewed the bubble gum a couple more times, rolled it into a small ball with his tongue, and spit it out to blow. "Having your own trick used against you, and done even better, is a feeling I couldn't stand."

Kirihara squatted on the steps, having long forgotten to eat the bag of potato chips in his hand. The bag was open and rested on his knees, with a small crumb falling onto his pants. "Shinobu-senpai is so strong... he ruined Fuji-senpai's rhythm in just two rounds."

"It's not that he lost it all." Marui's chewing gum puffed up as he spoke, his voice muffled. "It's that the rhythm was always in Oshitari's hands. Fuji never had the initiative in those two games. Did you notice when his serve was broken? Every point, Oshitari made the first move and changed the line first, and Fuji just followed along."

Kirihara squatted on the steps, hugging his knees, chin resting on his arms, his messy, scraggly hair hanging down. He tilted his head, watching Oshitari's figure on the field, then glanced at the shimmering crystal trophy on the coach's bench, swallowed hard, and suddenly blurted out, "Marui-senpai, do you think Oshitari-senpai can really win that trophy that Ryo-senpai is getting?"

Marui turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow: "Are you still thinking about that trophy?"

"I'm Rikkai's ace." Kirihara said this without turning around, his gaze still fixed on the court. "An ace should have everything, and then be able to take down everything."

"Then you'll have to get past Oshitari first."

Kirihara's shoulders slumped, his voice muffled by his knees: "I will eventually."

Niou leaned on Yagyu's shoulder, his silver braid hanging down his chest, his fingertips twirling the end of the braid. After hearing Kirihara's words, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Akaya, you're talking like Sanada, all that 'sooner or later' stuff. You should learn all the Tokyo subway lines before you think about trophies."

Yagyu adjusted his glasses and glanced at Niou: "Don't tease him."

"I wasn't teasing him. I called it a loving encouragement."

"The spur of love." Yagyu repeated the four words, his tone as flat as if he were reading a textbook. "Last time, your 'spur of love' tricked someone into going to Yokohama, and when he came back, his feet were covered in blisters."

Niou raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, a smirk playing on his lips: "That was an accident. It wasn't me who made him miss his stop on the bus."

Kirihara abruptly looked up, glaring at him like a feather duster on its skin: "That's all because you told me the cake shop was in Yokohama!"

"The cake shops in Yokohama are really delicious, I wasn't wrong."

"you……!"

Sanada stood at the front, his hat pulled low. He hadn't planned to join the commotion in the back, but his brow twitched when he heard the name "Yokohama." Turning his head, his voice was deep: "Niou. Next time you take Akaya running around, double the training."

"Vice Minister! I'm innocent!"

Sanada ignored him and turned his gaze back to the court.

Yukimura sat beside her, Luna nestled on his lap. The little black cat, who had been dozing, was now awakened by the laughter and chatter from the back row. She was pawing at Yukimura's arm, nuzzling him and meowing softly, as if complaining about the noise from the humans. Yukimura twirled the tip of Luna's tail with his fingertips. The kitten lay cuddly in his arms, her tail swaying gently with the ball on the court.

He hadn't spoken until now, his gaze fixed on the court, watching the points where Fuji's serve had been broken, and he said softly, "Fuji is still finding his rhythm."

Marui slowed his chewing gum a beat: "Didn't he throw away all his signature moves? How can he still find his rhythm?"

"The first thing to do after being broken is to find your rhythm." Yukimura lifted Luna up a bit, making sure the kitten was more stable. "He played too hastily in the latter half of the second game. After his Bear Net was broken, he immediately switched to Flying Swallow, and after that was broken, he switched to other techniques very quickly, but he didn't penetrate any of them. He was too eager to find a move that could suppress Shinobu, which instead scattered himself."

Sanada turned his head, his gaze beneath the brim of his hat falling on Yukimura's profile: "You mean...?"

"He'll use these few minutes of break time to get back into rhythm. The next game will be the one he's truly ready to play."

As Yukimura finished speaking, Luna tilted her head back, her round, heterochromatic eyes looking at him, and let out a soft meow, as if in agreement. Yukimura lowered his head and touched its little head with the tip of his nose, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Niou leaned back in his chair, listened to Yukimura's analysis, and raised an eyebrow. "Now that the captain has said that, the third game will be interesting. Puri."

Yagyu nodded in agreement, looking at the calm-faced boy on the field, and said, "Shinobu's condition is much better than before today. During the training camp, his 'Brown Bear Catch' completion rate was less than half of what it is now."

Renwang nodded, stroking his chin, his silver braid sliding down to his shoulder. "Indeed. It seems Ling has been putting him through a lot these past two months. This kid used to always hold back a bit when he played, always careless, but today he's really going all out."

Sanada's eyes, hidden beneath his hat brim, darkened. He leaned forward slightly, watching Oshitari on the court for a long while before speaking in a voice a half-degree deeper than usual: "His execution of basic movements has indeed improved. During those long rallies just now, his weight transfer was much smoother than during the Metropolitan Tournament. He used to have an adjustment step when switching between forehand and backhand, but now that adjustment step is gone."

After listening to Sanada's words, Yukimura glanced down at the kitten in his arms, then looked up at the court, his voice calm and unhurried: "The disappearance of his adjusting steps means his judgment has become more proactive. Before, he would only think about how to hit the ball after he saw it, but now he has already decided where to send the ball next before it even arrives. This change in awareness is more crucial than any improvement in technique."

After he finished speaking, he lowered his head and gently rubbed Luna's earlobe with his fingertips. The kitten squinted its eyes comfortably, and a muffled purr rolled out from its throat.