What exactly is joyful tennis?

“Are you feeling unwell again, Tezuka?” Syusuke Fuji squinted at the boy beside him, his tone tinged with concern.

“It’s nothing. I just need to endure it,” Tezuka replied, his phoenix eyes calm beneath his short, tea-brown hair. He released his grip on his arm and shook his head dismissively.

“All right, everyone! Free practice now!”

Tezuka’s commanding voice echoed across the court, and at once the players responded in unison, swiftly forming teams and launching into matches. The rhythmic crack of racquet against ball soon filled the air.

At that moment, Tezuka noticed a slender, somewhat short boy with striking features standing just outside the tennis courts. The boy stepped forward and asked, “Excuse me... Is this the tennis club?”

“Yes, this is the Evergreen Academy Boys’ Tennis Club.” Fuji smiled warmly at him. When the boy’s gaze shifted to Tezuka, he exclaimed in surprise, “It’s really... Kunimitsu Tezuka!”

Tezuka’s expression didn’t change, maintaining his poker face in the face of the boy’s astonishment. Fuji, however, couldn’t suppress a chuckle.

The boy introduced himself, taking a step closer. “My name is Mei Matsubara, twelve years old. I’m a first-year who just joined the tennis club today. I may look small, but I’m as old as you guys!”

“Welcome, I’m Syusuke Fuji,” Fuji greeted him with genuine friendliness. Matsubara eyed their blue uniforms with curiosity. “So, if I join the tennis club, can I get a uniform like yours?”

“To become an official member, you have to earn your place through a strict ranking tournament. Besides, our roster is already full,” Tezuka replied, arms folded and voice stern behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

“I see...” Matsubara looked disappointed for a moment, but soon turned to Tezuka with eager anticipation. “Since I have to beat someone to become a regular, why not challenge you directly? If I win, let me join as an official player!”

The moment his words echoed across the court, the atmosphere shifted. Players paused mid-match, many casting dissatisfied looks at Matsubara.

“Hey, where’d this cocky little kid come from, daring to challenge Captain Tezuka?”

“Doesn’t know his place. Someone ought to teach him a lesson!”

“I could take him out in a couple of hits,” grumbled another.

The commotion around them made Fuji’s smile fade, while Tezuka replied flatly, “Rules can’t be broken. I’m sorry, but I refuse your challenge.”

“Understood,” Matsubara replied. As Tezuka turned away, Matsubara’s expression cooled, and he shrugged indifferently. “If that’s your rule, I’ve got nothing more to say.”

He didn’t hesitate. But just as he turned to leave, a burly boy in a blue uniform grabbed him roughly by the collar.

“Who do you think you are?” the boy snapped. “He’s our club captain, Kunimitsu Tezuka. Watch your mouth!”

Matsubara pried the boy’s hand off with surprising ease. Though the motion was unremarkable, the boy was startled—a first-year, much smaller than himself, had such strength?

“Trying to run away after mouthing off, kid?” the boy called out as Matsubara strode off the court.

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m leaving. I’ll just find another tennis club. I thought Tezuka was the dark horse who defeated Junior Tournament runner-up Genichiro Sanada, like the papers said. Turns out, it was all hype.” Matsubara waved carelessly, cradling his head as he walked off. “Guess Seishun Academy is the place for real tennis. I bet I’ll be a regular there in no time.”

At the mention of Seishun Academy, Tezuka’s face darkened instantly. The sharp pain of not being chosen as a regular in his first year and the injuries inflicted by an upperclassman surged to the surface.

Amidst the swirl of unpleasant memories, one figure grew clearer—a man with dark green hair, a white bandana, and sunglasses. His words echoed endlessly:

“Tezuka, I hope you’ll stay and become Seishun’s pillar of strength.”

“Pillar... pillar...”

Fuji’s fists clenched at the name, all traces of his smile gone, replaced by a flicker of irritation.

As the boy in blue prepared to “teach Matsubara a lesson,” a cool, clear laugh cut through the tension.

“If you’re so eager to become an official member, why don’t I test your resolve?” The voice belonged to Hajime Mizuki.

Tezuka, Fuji, and the rest turned their attention to a boy with tousled black hair, who brushed his bangs aside with quiet confidence.

“If you beat me, you can take my spot as a regular. But if you lose... you’ll apologize to Tezuka,” Mizuki declared coolly.

Matsubara grinned. “Fine by me. My goal is just to be an official player—it doesn’t matter who I face.”

Indeed, Matsubara had come to Evergreen Academy’s tennis club with a purpose—he was a transmigrator, armed with a system.

About a month ago, he had been Shou Natsu, watching “The Prince of Tennis” on his tablet. As a child, he’d never finished the series, so he decided to revisit this fiery anime from his youth.

But when the show’s outrageous “Tezuka Zone” appeared, he couldn’t help but barrage the screen with sarcastic comments. As he typed, a golden light enveloped his tablet—and in the next instant, he was reborn as Mei Matsubara in the world of “The Prince of Tennis.”

Matsubara found it all rather unfair. If criticizing the plot was a crime, surely the writer should be punished, not himself—forced to live as a child in a two-dimensional world!

But over time, he realized life here wasn’t so bad. The boys were all talented, and the girls’ voices were pleasant—he’d grown to like it here.

As for his system, the “Bullet Comment Mission System” was not as sophisticated as those in other novels. It simply collected meaningful viewer comments from the anime and turned them into missions. By completing these, Matsubara earned rewards.

For example, “Universal Pull” and “Almighty Push” were both rewards he’d received for completing bullet comment missions.

When he arrived, the system had profiled him thoroughly, analyzing his preferences and traits. That was why skills from “Naruto” had appeared in his reward pool. Of course, the missions sometimes granted skills from other anime too.

For instance, one mission read: “Eternal glory to Hyotei! I wish I could join Hyotei!” The reward: Afterimage Fist.

But sometimes the reward didn’t match the mission’s difficulty. Another mission: “Coach Ryuzaki, I want to play tennis! Let me join Seishun! Fuji, my love, mwah mwah, I want the world to know I’ve claimed Syusuke Fuji!” The reward: Hypnosis.

Both rewards came from “Dragon Ball”—but Hypnosis was far stronger than Afterimage Fist. When playing tennis, one could use the Afterimage Fist to confuse opponents with speed, but Hypnosis could force a win outright. The difference was clear.

Over time, Matsubara noticed that most rewards fell into two categories: “Naruto” and “Dragon Ball” skills.

Realizing that his arrival might have shifted the timeline, Matsubara chose to join the obscure Evergreen Academy. Here, despite the club’s weak reputation, two prodigies lurked—Kunimitsu Tezuka and Syusuke Fuji.

And, of course, Hajime Mizuki, the genius tactician known for exploiting his opponents’ weaknesses and excelling at data tennis.

It wasn’t that joining a weaker club would give him better rewards. Instead, Matsubara wanted to build a team of his own. After all, as a tennis-loving transmigrator who couldn’t actually play tennis, a repetitive existence would be too dull. He wanted to play “joyful tennis”—to form his own team, storm the national tournament, and claim the championship!

Tezuka and Fuji were already part of his plan. For Matsubara, “Emperor” Tezuka was a white moon in his heart, and “Genius” Fuji’s allure needed no further explanation. By joining Evergreen, he could recruit both without having to chase them down elsewhere.

He’d learned that Tezuka had been injured by Takefumi Muki of Seishun Academy and left the club, with Fuji—who admired Tezuka—leaving as well. Only Shuichiro Oishi, who was close to Tezuka, remained.

Recently, Matsubara had discovered that after leaving Seishun, Tezuka and Fuji had joined Evergreen, so he’d come today to sign up.

But today’s attempt to become an official member hadn’t gone as planned.

“System prompt: I really want to be a regular! Reward: Instant Transmission.”

This was one of the bullet comments he’d seen in his mind; all he had to do was become a regular to earn this reward.

Instant Transmission was a “Dragon Ball” skill—far more powerful than Afterimage Fist or Hypnosis. To others, it was merely an imperceptible 0.1-second leap, but to Matsubara, it allowed him to hit an unreturnable shot in that instant. It was a formidable move, though it drained his stamina.

Compared to Instant Transmission, Almighty Push and Universal Pull—which he’d already mastered—also consumed energy, but only a little.

No matter what, as he faced Mizuki’s challenge, Matsubara knew he was one step closer to his goal.