“Gulp.”
“Th-that’s Sengoku’s Kohō?”
“It’s way too strong.
Honda couldn’t even react.”
Outside the court, the Yamabuki players stared in awe.
“It really is strong.”
Among the ten selected players, Muromachi, wearing white-framed sunglasses, narrowed his eyes and quietly clenched his fist.
As an observer, he had gotten a clearer look.
Sengoku hadn’t jumped nearly as high as he did during official matches.
In other words, this really wasn’t the full version of the Kohō.
And yet it was still this powerful.
Sengoku’s strength had clearly reached an astonishing level.
‘Still…’
Muromachi raised his head, fixing his gaze on Sengoku, who had landed steadily and now wore a confident smile.
‘This is also my chance!’
He had absolutely no confidence in handling the full-powered Kohō.
But Muromachi wanted to try his luck against the serve in front of him.
If he succeeded, he would undoubtedly become the brightest new star in the entire Yamabuki tennis club.
…
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
One after another, several players failed to react at all, simply standing frozen in place.
Returning Sengoku’s serve was completely out of the question.
“Sigh.”
Outside the crowd, advisor Banda looked helpless.
Sengoku had already reduced the power of his serve as much as possible and kept his jump deliberately low.
Even then, no one could so much as touch the ball.
That alone showed just how little talent Yamabuki’s selected representatives had.
And these were already the best of a bad bunch.
Looking at the players who hadn’t even been selected, Banda couldn’t help sighing again inwardly.
“Next, Muromachi Tōji.”
Uesugi called out.
Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Muromachi tightened his grip on his racket and strode onto the court.
“Oh, it’s Muromachi.”
Sengoku smiled when he saw who had stepped forward.
“If it’s you, you should have a chance, right?”
“Come on, Senpai.”
Muromachi instead settled into a serious ready stance.
“I’ll try to return it.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Sengoku nodded, then tossed the tennis ball high into the air once more.
He leaped up and quickly brought his racket down.
‘Here it comes!’
Muromachi sharpened his focus.
He had never faced Sengoku’s Kohō himself, but he’d seen it enough times to know what to expect.
From his observations, Muromachi had noticed that the Kohō primarily targeted the area around the middle of the service line.
Now, with his full attention focused on the center, he finally picked up the ball’s trajectory.
‘I see it!’
The moment he read the ball’s path, Muromachi stepped forward without the slightest hesitation.
At the same time, he raised his racket and prepared to drive through the ball.
“That kid’s got pretty good reactions.”
The regulars around the court nodded approvingly.
If nothing else, Muromachi’s reaction speed surpassed Honda and the other third-years.
His movements were decisive as well.
Almost the instant he closed in on the ball, he swung his racket.
Bang!
The ball bounced off the court—and Muromachi actually intercepted it.
‘He’s incredible!’
‘Muromachi’s seriously amazing.
He actually got Sengoku’s Kohō!’
‘He’s going to be the first non-regular to return Sengoku’s Kohō!!’
The surrounding players all thought the same thing.
So did Muromachi.
After correctly predicting the trajectory of Sengoku’s serve and getting his racket onto the ball, a trace of pride even flashed through his eyes.
“Hm?”
But the instant ball and racket collided, Muromachi’s expression changed.
‘It’s this heavy?’
His pupils contracted sharply, and his right hand trembled around the racket handle.
After a moment’s hesitation, he had no choice but to bring his left hand onto the racket and switch to a two-handed grip.
Only then did he finally manage to withstand the force of the ball.
However, because of that, he missed the best timing for the return.
The ball he hit smacked into the net with a thwack and rolled to the ground.
“Phew…”
Muromachi let out a long breath.
Then he looked at Sengoku with awe.
‘As expected, even when a Kanto-level player isn’t going all out, he’s still beyond what I can handle.’
Even so, Muromachi was quite pleased with himself.
After all, the players before him hadn’t even managed to touch the ball.
By comparison, the fact that he had reached it and managed to hit it back clearly showed that he was stronger.
With that thought, Muromachi left the court.
Afterward, Uesugi called several more players in succession.
Among them was Ichiuma Kita, who would later become a regular in the original story but was currently only a first-year.
There was also Tsubasa Nishikiori, who would take Akutsu’s place as a regular after Akutsu left the tennis club.
However, although both of them managed to react, neither could actually touch the ball.
If anything, that only made Muromachi’s feat of returning the ball seem even more impressive.
“Hehe.”
Feeling the gazes of the others around him, the corners of Muromachi’s mouth curled upward.
By now, he had truly earned his reputation as Yamabuki’s resident genius.
“Next.”
“Shibukawa Shin!”
As soon as the name was announced, quite a few people turned to look.
A boy whose black hair hung over his eyes, obscuring his features, picked up his racket and walked onto the court.
“Shibukawa?”
Sengoku was somewhat surprised when he saw him.
“If I remember right, he’s in Class 6.
Yeah, the same class as Kentaro.
I didn’t expect him to make the cut.”
From what Sengoku remembered, Shibukawa had always had very little presence.
He was also rather timid and submissive.
Once, Sengoku had seen some upperclassmen trying to shake him down for money and had stepped in to get him out of trouble.
That was also why he remembered Shibukawa in the first place.
Otherwise, he might not have remembered him at all.
And since Sengoku rarely attended team practice, spending more of his time hitting on girls instead, he knew nothing about how Shibukawa had changed recently.
‘If I’m counting right, he should be the last one.
Aaah…’
Sengoku yawned.
After serving over and over without anyone managing to return a single ball, the sheer boredom was actually making him sleepy.
He then slapped his cheeks to wake himself up and, as usual, tossed the ball high into the air.
He jumped, rising into the air before leaning forward and slamming his racket down at the ball.
‘Oh, crap!’
The instant he swung, Sengoku suddenly snapped back to his senses.
He wasn’t playing a match against an opponent on his own level—he was conducting an evaluation for advanced training.
But it was already too late to hold back properly.
All he could do was reduce the force of the shot as much as possible.
Even then, this serve was on a completely different level from the half-baked Kohō he’d used earlier.
‘I’m screwed.
Should I give him another serve?
Uh, probably not necessary, but with Captain Uesugi’s personality, who knows…’
Sengoku muttered inwardly, glancing uneasily toward Uesugi out of the corner of his eye.
Uesugi had also noticed that this serve was unusually powerful and immediately felt somewhat helpless.
‘Sengoku really is too careless.’
Uesugi made a decision then and there.
Before stepping down as captain, he absolutely had to straighten Sengoku out.
At the very least, he needed to get Sengoku to devote more of his attention to training.
As for Shibukawa, who was receiving the serve, Uesugi didn’t give him much thought.
After all, even Muromachi had only barely managed to get his racket on the ball.
And this time, the Kohō Sengoku had unleashed was even more powerful.
It wasn’t just Uesugi.
Almost everyone else also believed that Shibukawa had no chance of returning the ball.
‘That kid…’
Only Banda kept his eyes fixed on the black-haired boy.
Anyone else, upon seeing Sengoku unleash such a powerful serve, would probably already have panicked.
But…
On Shibukawa’s face, Banda saw the same calm expression as before.
It was almost as though, in Shibukawa’s eyes, this tremendously powerful Kohō wasn’t all that frightening.