30. Advancing from the Group Stage

In Songyuan Mingyi’s eyes, this one-on-one match with equal numbers held no suspense at all. Even putting aside Akutsu, who had never attended a single training session, the weakest among the four—Ryo Shishido—could easily sweep the floor with Ueto’s group. As the saying goes, the layman watches the spectacle, the expert discerns the subtleties. Apart from Songyuan Mingyi, many members of the boys’ tennis club had come to watch this clash between new and former regulars, eager to see which side would come out on top.

In their eyes, the four of Ueto, if not the strongest ever in the history of Evergreen Academy, were at least pillars among the third-years before graduation. Most didn’t say it aloud, but in their hearts, they doubted Akutsu’s group could win.

The establishment of the boys’ tennis club’s internal ranking tournament was soon mirrored by Coach Uehara Mei for the girls’ tennis club, though she scheduled it for a later date. Her intent was for the girls to learn from the boys’ skills and experience. Practice and real matches certainly improve one’s ability, but sometimes, observing is just as important.

The girls’ club attire differed from the boys’: official players wore white and green short-sleeved shirts, while non-regulars wore blue and white. The boys and girls of the tennis clubs gathered in clearly divided groups outside the wire fence, watching the matches. The girls’ cheers and shouts rose and fell like waves, intermingling until they became a constant roar. Many boys frowned in annoyance—couldn’t they be quieter? Were they really here to watch tennis?

But not all the boys were bothered by the girls’ lively cries, as melodious as larks. Some, catching glimpses of white skirts swaying gently in the breeze, hurriedly covered their noses as a rush of heat flooded their faces, which turned bright red in an instant.

The boys’ tennis club had four courts, just enough for eight players to compete simultaneously. Songyuan Mingyi stood outside Court 2, watching Ryo Shishido face Shimodawa, while Tezuka and Fuji made their way to Court 3 to watch Sadaharu Inui play against Sakyo.

Oda Fuyuka and Iwamura Yuna, not yet official members, went to Court 1 to watch Akutsu play Ueto. As soon as they saw the boy with the watermelon-shaped haircut, they remembered he was the one they’d seen riding a motorcycle just a few days ago!

“To think he’s actually an official member of the boys’ tennis club…”

“And… only a first-year…”

The two girls exchanged glances and then, in perfect unison, exclaimed, “So he’s… underage?!”

Akutsu shed his long-sleeved uniform, revealing the short-sleeved shirt with sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. Gripping the tennis ball tightly, he stared at the visibly nervous Ueto and tossed the ball high into the air.

“Hah!”

On Court 2,

“What’s the holdup? Serve already!” Ryo Shishido urged, impatient with Shimodawa’s hesitation.

On Court 3,

“This is a technique I’ve just developed—perfect for gathering data,” Sadaharu Inui said coolly, tossing the ball skyward and swinging his racket with blinding speed.

“What a fast serve!” Fuji’s beautiful sapphire eyes flew open in surprise.

“A new technique?” Tezuka, arms folded, narrowed his almond-shaped eyes. He’d never seen Inui serve at such speed before.

On Court 4,

“A high-speed serve clocked at 160 km/h… Well done, Doctor,” Renji Yanagi said with a satisfied smile, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face Ujin across the net. “Come on, then.”

“Tch. Still putting on that calm front? Let’s see how long you can keep it!” Ujin, frustrated by Yanagi’s composure, served the ball across the net. Yanagi, however, stood utterly motionless, hands gripping his racket, as if in deep meditation.

In the next instant, Yanagi’s mind sank into a profound calm; the world around him faded into an endless black abyss. A grotesque, terrifying mask appeared behind him, and two crimson lights, like ghostly will-o’-the-wisps, burned in the darkness.

Raising the racket’s tip to its highest point, his backswing and follow-through were seamless—a yellow beam pierced the air, whizzing past Ujin’s ear.

“Thunk!” The tennis ball slammed into the baseline and shot away. Yanagi smiled lightly. “Thanks for waiting. This is Yanagi’s high-speed slice.”

Soon, the scores from all four courts were announced: Akutsu’s group won 6-0 over Ueto’s group. The overwhelming strength displayed by the new regulars sparked shouts of astonished disbelief—had the old regulars really lost so decisively?

“Damn… This is just absurd…” Ueto muttered, looking disheveled and defeated at Akutsu, who hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Thus, with their crushing victory, the new regulars sent Ueto and his cohort from the courts with their heads bowed. Needing four more for the ranking tournament, Tezuka and Fuji promptly selected replacements from among the non-regulars.

Songyuan Mingyi didn’t face any of the other six regulars in his group match; his opponent was a second-year non-regular known for his ability to control the tempo.

“One set, winner takes all. Songyuan to serve!” the umpire called out from the ladder.

After serving, Songyuan Mingyi rushed to the net. The boy, about to use a lob to control the pace, saw Songyuan charging and, flustered, reflexively smashed the ball straight at his face.

But Songyuan Mingyi didn’t dodge at all. He stepped into the shot, twisted his body, and with a sudden burst of power from his right arm, sent the ball flying in a yellow-green arc.

“Smack!”

“15-0!” called the umpire.

“What incredible reflexes—he can adjust even at that range?” The boy was stunned. His shot at Mingyi’s face had been pure instinct, and he knew exactly how much force he’d used. This first-year shorty… was absurdly strong!

The young man smiled, tapping his racket on the ground as he marveled at the results of his recent intensive training. His strength, serving speed, and reflexes had all improved dramatically.

“In that case, let’s try an even stronger serve.”

Gripping the ball, Songyuan Mingyi served again. As his opponent focused on reading the direction, a blur of light flashed before his eyes.

“Smack!”

“30-0!” the umpire called.

“What?!” Cold sweat pouring down his back, the boy turned to see the tennis ball lying quietly on the ground. He hadn’t even seen the ball’s trajectory after Mingyi’s serve. This was several times faster than the first!

“I can go even faster.” Songyuan pulled out a third ball and bounced it rhythmically on the court. Before his opponent could react, he served again.

“40-0!” the umpire shouted.

The boy’s original plan—to control the tempo and restrict Mingyi—was now in tatters. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t return a single shot.

And as the minutes ticked by, Songyuan Mingyi’s power and speed only increased.

Soon after, with terror written all over his face, the boy fell to his knees as the umpire raised his hand from the chair.

“Game, set, and match! Songyuan wins, 6-0!”