Prince of Tennis Fraudster

However, fate seemed to favor the Echizen brothers, nothing more. Moreover, unlike the dejected Kirihara, Kintaro, despite losing the game, wore an optimistic expression.

Dragging his weary body, he stepped forward and shook hands with Echizen.

Both were well aware that they would henceforth consider each other their greatest rivals. Of course, they would also perhaps become best friends.

"congratulations……"

On the other side, as Long Ya retreated to the rest area, a woman's voice rang out. He turned his head, looked at the young man striding towards the court, and smiled, "Good luck!"

Chapter 181 The Two Who Entered the Dream

hum!

As Balinting finished speaking, a faint spiritual fluctuation emanated from him. His own aura instantly rose to a level that drew attention.

"Another dimension? So fast?"

On the sidelines, the Japanese players looked at each other in bewilderment.

This is only the first game, and that American player has already used another dimension? Does that mean he's confident he can win the game in one fell swoop?

"A very smart guy."

On the contrary, Niou shook his head and said, "This person probably realized that Irie's 'in the name of Shakespeare' requires a considerable amount of time to conceive. Therefore, he doesn't intend to give the other party time to prepare for the performance..."

"Indeed, he has made a mistake."

Beside Niou, Taneshima said with a faint smile, "That guy never needs to prepare for his performance. Because he's always in the act..."

As Taneshima finished speaking, a slightly sentimental voice, full of profound understanding of life, rang out: "We are such stuff as dreams are made on!"

"Ok?"

On the opposite side, Balintin, who was preparing to receive the ball, paused.

hum!

At the same time, a powerful aura emanated from Irie's body and spread outwards.

"It happened in an instant..."

The entire American team was stunned. Among them, Ryūya, holding an orange, smiled slightly and said, "I told you, good luck..."

The other party was not like an orange in his hand, to be manipulated at will.

boom!

"Game! United States team, 0-1!"

boom!

"Game! Japan team, 1-1!"

Having entered the other-dimensional state, the two accelerated their movements. Their high speed and skill were fully revealed.

"What...what are you doing..."

On the sidelines, watching the two players swinging their rackets, Kirihara couldn't help but rub his eyes. But even then, their movements were still so blurry that he couldn't make out what they were doing.

"The speed of the swing, the spin of the tennis ball, the judgment of the ball..."

Sanada said in a deep voice, "Their strength has exceeded our expectations."

Unlike all-around fighters like Niou and Polk, Barentin and Irie are specialists in one area, which makes them more visually striking to the audience.

"You can't watch this kind of shot too often."

Yukimura said with a grave expression, "If we're not careful, we might end up in another world..."

"What do you mean?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed intently on the match, a sense of weariness creeping over him. Yukimura's words, however, sent a shiver down his spine.

At that moment, Niou pointed to Kirihara beside him and laughed, "Look at this guy!"

"Aka..."

Marui squinted and moved to stand in front of Kirihara, waving his hand in front of him, but Kirihara seemed not to see it, his eyes just staring blankly ahead.

"What's up with him?"

"You were deceived by an illusion."

Renwang shook his head and said, "Both of them are experts in the mental realm of other dimensions. If we are not careful, we will be disturbed by them."

"Can……"

Marui frowned and pointed to the audience seats above, saying, "Those people should be even weaker than Akaya, right? Why?"

"Mindset, focus, distance..."

Niou explained, "Mental-type alternate dimensions are affected by these factors. Also, when you go there, don't try to put yourself into the role of any of them."

The impact would then multiply.

Whoosh!

The tennis ball flew out, and in Irie's eyes, it was just a blur of shadows, making it impossible to distinguish which one was the real tennis ball.

Swish!

He quickly looked down at his reflection on the field.

"Shadows do not lie."

With a thought in mind, he swung his racket, guided by instinct, and returned the tennis ball with a resounding thud.

"Good judgment."

Across from him, Balintin nodded to himself. Tennis players sometimes rely on a flash of inspiration to solve unexpected problems, and clearly, his opponent possessed extremely high tennis talent.

However, just as he was about to return the ball, he noticed that Irie's appearance on the other side had subtly changed.

"That's... Ralph? How is that possible!"

Once he regained his composure, Ralph's image transformed back into Irie, but deep down, he sensed something was amiss.

If Kirihara was merely an innocent victim, then the two players at the center of the court were constantly being interfered with by each other.

Ordinary people would have entered the world of fantasy like Kirihara did long ago. But the mental strength of both of them far surpasses that of ordinary people.

boom!

"Game! United States team, 3-3!"

boom!

"Game! Japan team, 4-4!"

boom!

"Game! United States team, 5-5!"

"Amazing!"

As the score was leveled again, France's star player, Dorian, exclaimed from the stands, "They've maintained this level of attack and speed for a whole hour?"

Under high intensity, many vulnerabilities will inevitably emerge.

The two seemed to have been playing for a long time, but in reality, the ten games only lasted an hour. However, as their stamina waned, their movements gradually slowed down.

Antoinette began, “They’re making more and more unnecessary moves.”

"Yes."

Medanore nodded and said, "It looks like the location for this match will be moved."

"Ok?"

Upon hearing this, the others glanced at the sky. It was only 2 PM, and even if it got dark, the Central Stadium had a top-notch lighting system, so there was nothing to worry about.

Pat-pat...

With Irie's final slice, the referee's voice rang out: "Game! Japan, 6-6, going to a tiebreaker!"

However, the two seemed not to hear, remaining in their respective hitting and preparation positions, standing there blankly.

“we-are-such-stuff-as-dreams-are-made-on…”

Niou's eyes flickered slightly as he looked at Irie and said, "Whether it's an illusion or reality, this dream depends on how you interpret it..."

Chapter 182 Abstention

"Oh, Juliet, I truly love you..."

When Balinting woke up, he found himself in the arms of a handsome young man. The man's eyes were full of affection, and his clear, watery gaze made Balinting's heart flutter.

"Is this... Shakespeare's world?"

At that moment, Balentin realized that he seemed to have entered a fantasy. But strangely, even though he realized that it was all an illusion, he did not immediately leave this world.

It was as if, deep down, he was being assimilated by the world and by what was happening.

Splash!

In the dimly lit room, as the young man raised his arm, sheets of sketch paper filled the room.

"No, no!"

The young man clutched his head with his right hand, his left hand, holding the paintbrush, trembling uncontrollably. He cried out in anguish, "No one will ever appreciate paintings like this... Haha, my art will never be appreciated!"

The young man abruptly stood up, looking around. His pupils, hidden behind his round-framed glasses, trembled, his emotions shifting dramatically. But as time passed, they gradually calmed down.

"Is this the other person's mental world...?"

Irie came to his senses, but like Balentin, he hadn't truly awakened to reality. Instead, he seemed to be admiring the other's inner world, constantly looking around.

This is an art studio.

The dim lighting and slightly pungent musty smell suggested that the studio was in the basement.

"What a crazy person..."

The paintings on the wall depict figures in various poses, some performing elegant actions, others in tranquil settings. However, the figures' facial features are strangely distorted; they wear smiles on their faces, but their eyes reveal a chilling resentment.

"It seems he's also someone whose personality has been distorted by art..."

Wandering around the room, Irie touched the Scottish-style hat on his head, a wry smile appearing on his lips: "Why would I use 'ya'?"