Five-dimensional stats.
In the original series, these were the five standard attributes used to measure a player’s overall ability: Speed, Power, Stamina, Technique, and Mental.
While five-dimensional stats alone couldn’t completely determine the outcome of a match, raw numbers were still a very direct way of showing how strong a player was.
And that aligned perfectly with Shibukawa’s current goal of improving his fundamental abilities.
‘Based on the original series, Tezuka’s five-dimensional stats totaled 19.5 when he joined the U-17 camp.
So what you’d call the peak of national level should be around a total of 20.’
‘If Tezuka is used as the benchmark, an ordinary national-level player should have a total of around 17.’
‘Following that logic, the threshold for Kanto level should be roughly 14.’
Anything below that—metropolitan or prefectural tournament level, or even district level—was meaningless to Shibukawa.
He had no intention of limiting himself to that level.
If he had a cheat and still couldn’t surpass that level within a short period of time even after giving it everything he had, then tennis simply wasn’t the path for him.
After finishing his training, Shibukawa returned home.
Just like yesterday, his mother, Yumi, had prepared dinner ahead of time and left him a note before heading to the bakery.
After dinner and a short rest, Shibukawa changed clothes and went downstairs for his nightly run.
The Proficiency System couldn’t instantly grant him overwhelming power, but it allowed him to see a clear path toward becoming stronger.
Shibukawa also knew there was no rushing something like this.
In the world of The Prince of Tennis, the foundation of tennis was raw stats, and those stats were represented by the five-dimensional attributes.
Improving them wasn’t something that could be accomplished overnight.
It required consistent, sustained training.
…
[Basic Running completed once]
[Running EXP +1]
[Current Running Level: Lv.
2 (48/100)]
Only when Shibukawa’s body had reached its limit, to the point where even lifting his legs had become incredibly difficult, did he finally stop after the notification showing his increased experience appeared before his eyes once again.
Five kilometers at a pace of six minutes per kilometer, completed in half an hour.
Among ordinary thirteen-year-old middle school students, that result could only be considered average.
But Shibukawa had always been rather thin and weak, and his physical foundation wasn’t particularly good.
Moreover, just like with Swing practice, completing one standard session of Running required more than simply maintaining the proper pace.
His running form also had to meet certain requirements.
If his form wasn’t stable and proper enough, the experience he gained would decrease—or he might not gain any at all.
But Shibukawa wasn’t discouraged.
Getting started was always the hardest part.
As long as he maintained his current rhythm and completed every part of his training without fail each day, improving his strength was only a matter of time.
If one day wasn’t enough, then a week.
If a week showed no results, then a month.
If a month wasn’t enough, then half a year.
He understood perfectly well that only with a sufficiently solid foundation could he go farther. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Just look at the protagonist of the original series, Echizen.
Before transferring to Seishun Academy, he didn’t actually possess that many particularly formidable techniques or abilities.
However…
By practicing tennis almost every day with his father, the legendary tennis player Echizen Nanjiro, Ryoma accumulated a wealth of match experience.
Whenever he suddenly broke through his limits later in the story, it wasn’t just because of protagonist privilege—it was also the result of everything he had steadily accumulated over the years.
After all, if you faced a world-class tennis legend every single day, even a pig could eventually become an expert.
And in a certain sense, Shibukawa’s cheat was no worse than having Echizen Nanjiro around.
It might even be better!
…
In the blink of an eye, two days passed.
Shibukawa continued with the same repetitive, monotonous training, but every time a session ended and he saw his skill proficiency increase, he was filled with motivation.
Meanwhile, as Shibukawa continued his fulfilling life of training…
Kyushu.
Kumamoto City.
This year’s National Tournament was also drawing to a close.
Shishigaku Middle School, the host school, had only managed to reach the semifinals.
Meanwhile, Shitenhoji, the perennial runner-up of the Kansai region, had also been easily defeated by Rikkai.
The main event of the finals was a showdown between defending champion Rikkai University-Affiliated Middle School and Makinofuji Academy, the number-one team in Kansai.
Everyone had expected it to be an exciting match.
Yet even a powerhouse like Makinofuji was still effortlessly crushed by Rikkai with a 3-0 overall score.
“Too strong!”
On the way back, the Yamabuki players couldn’t help replaying the scene they had just witnessed in their minds.
“Not only Yukimura—even that Mouri guy didn’t have to play this time.”
A boy with thick eyebrows and large eyes, his slicked-back hair gleaming with hair gel, sighed in amazement.
He was Higashikata Masami, one of Yamabuki’s regulars.
“That Sanada in Singles 3 was seriously strong!
He took down Makinofuji’s vice-captain in less than fifteen minutes!!”
“Yeah.
He couldn’t fight back at all.
They’re simply not on the same level.”
Nitobe Inakichi, with his mushroom-shaped haircut and two leaves sticking out from the top of his head, looked utterly stunned.
“And I heard those Rikkai players shouting ‘Emperor’ earlier.
Unless something unexpected happens, that’s probably going to become Sanada’s nickname in the tennis world.”
‘The Emperor of Tennis…
huh?’
Uesugi and the others felt their hearts sink.
Indeed, merely imagining themselves facing an opponent of that caliber was enough to make them feel an intense sense of pressure.
“Emperor?” Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Just then, a derisive voice rang out.
“Don’t make me laugh.
The only one at Rikkai worth being wary of is Yukimura.”
Who?
Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a handsome boy with violet-gray hair and a beauty mark beneath his right eye approaching from behind them at the head of his team.
“Hyotei…”
“That’s…
Atobe?!”
The Yamabuki players immediately became alert when they saw who it was.
Yamabuki hadn’t faced Hyotei this year.
In the Metropolitan Tournament, they had been eliminated by Seigaku in the semifinals.
Then, in the Kanto Tournament, Yamabuki had suffered terrible luck and drawn Rikkai in the very first round, where they had been mercilessly eliminated.
Because of that, many of Yamabuki’s players didn’t believe they were weak—they had simply run into Rikkai.
And although Hyotei had won the Metropolitan Tournament, there was no guarantee they could beat Yamabuki.
Yamabuki’s doubles was extremely strong, while in singles they could also field Uesugi and Sengoku, two fairly strong Kanto-level players.
Under those circumstances, if they could suppress Hyotei in doubles, defeating them wasn’t out of the question.
“What are you staring at?
You’re just a bunch of guys who couldn’t even make it to Nationals.”
One of the Hyotei players in the crowd mocked them.
Under Atobe’s leadership, Hyotei’s tennis club had expanded to more than a hundred and fifty members, and it was still growing.
With that many people, they could practically take over an entire neighborhood and establish themselves as the local underworld bosses.
However…
Despite Hyotei’s overwhelming numbers, Yamabuki didn’t lose their composure.
This wasn’t a street brawl, after all.
Numbers meant nothing here.
Ultimately, everything had to be settled through strength on the tennis court.
“Small fry should know their place.”
Seeing the indignant expressions on the Yamabuki players’ faces, the handsome boy leading Hyotei—their captain, Atobe Keigo—couldn’t help but sneer.
“Right, Kabaji?”
“Yes!”
Standing beside Atobe was a stocky, crew-cut boy with a simple, impassive face.
Hearing Atobe’s words, he nodded in agreement.
“Bastard!”
That completely set things off.
One of Yamabuki’s more hot-tempered regulars could no longer hold himself back.
Even Uesugi Kenichi, their captain, frowned as he looked toward Atobe.
“Aren’t you being a little too arrogant?”