Fuji and Niō's stunt left the entire audience stunned. Even Akashi Seijūrō, sitting in the VIP booth, was briefly taken aback. The distance was too far, and being inside the booth, not even Akashi could sense the mental fluctuation from Niō.
Only four people on the court weren't surprised—Yukimura Seiichi, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Yanagi Renji, and Inui Sadaharu. Yukimura had already sensed Niō's spiritual energy beforehand, while Yanagi and Inui had deduced it through data analysis of Fuji's movements. As for Tezuka… maybe he just had his usual expressionless face?
Even Akutsu paused for a second, then clicked his tongue in frustration—clearly annoyed that he hadn't seen through Niō's trick.
Tōyama Kintarō, on the other hand, was beaming as he looked at Fuji and Niō. Though he'd seen Niō's illusions before, this time Niō had taken the trickery to a whole new level.
In the Kanto team's coach box, Hanamura Aoi was totally speechless as she stared at the two players in front of her. Even she hadn't noticed any flaws—these two had swapped identities flawlessly.
Actually, the whole plan had been discussed between Niō and Fuji during Atobe's match. No one knew why Niō carried a spare wig identical to his own, but the moment he made the suggestion, Fuji was more than happy to go along with it.
So that earlier scene happened: the moment they stepped out of the player tunnel, Niō had already transferred his mental energy to Fuji. With the wig, no one except Yukimura realized this Niō was fake.
Niō himself used his illusion technique to turn into Fuji. Even the coordination during their moves had been pre-arranged. Judging from the way things had gone since Doubles No. 2, this so-called West Coast U.S. team wasn't really that strong.
Since it was an exhibition match, they wanted to give the audience a unique experience. These two white-on-the-outside-black-on-the-inside tricksters had completely fooled everyone.
On the other side, Terry and Tom were too stunned to even process Richard's yelling. The only thought in their heads was—what the hell is with this doubles pair?!
Break time ended quickly. The four players took a sip of water and returned to the court. Even now, the Griffey brothers were still staring at Fuji and Niō with expressions like they'd seen a ghost.
Game four was Terry's serve. As he stepped to the baseline and got ready, the scene turned absurd again—Niō's figure shimmered and morphed back into Fuji. Now Terry had no idea who he was supposed to serve to.
Even the umpire looked confused. He had no clue how to rule on this match anymore. He couldn't even tell which Fuji was which—and even identical twins had minor differences.
As the umpire frowned in frustration, one of the "Fujis" raised a hand, signaling that he was Niō and telling Terry to serve to the other Fuji. That at least helped separate the two—barely.
Terry glanced at the Fuji on the left side of the court, tossed the ball high, and unleashed a powerful serve. The ball flew straight toward the left half.
Fuji intercepted it easily. Since he had been acting as Niō just now, his movements had been slightly unnatural. But now that he was back to normal, his flow was smooth again.
Seeing Fuji return his serve so easily, Terry sprinted to the net while Tom chased down the ball and hit a backhand drive. They swapped positions, with Tom moving to the back.
Then the other "Fuji" did something the brothers didn't expect—he held his racket flat and sliced horizontally at the ball. The ball spun rapidly across the racket face, and just before it fell, "Fuji" flipped the racket face again, accelerating the spin.
When the ball reached the edge of the racket, "Fuji" smacked it back with a strong return. The ball shot toward the opposite court with fierce spin. Terry didn't understand what the move was, but instinctively hit the incoming ball back.
But just as the ball reached above the net, it dropped sharply and fell to the ground without crossing over.
"Hecatoncheires no Monban! Your shot won't even clear the net now!" the "Fuji" said coolly after the return, turning his back as he spoke.
"0-15!"
The real Fuji looked at this illusion version of himself and couldn't help but make a weird face. 'So this is what it's like playing doubles with Niō?'
Terry stared in disbelief at the ball in front of him. He was sure the height had been enough to clear the net. Did the opponent do something? What kind of move was that?
Behind him, Tom frowned. Their opponents weren't just weird—they were terrifyingly strong. Their endless stream of tricky techniques made them incredibly hard to deal with.
Snapped out of his thoughts by the umpire's call, Terry hurried back to the baseline and served again. Fuji returned it effortlessly. This time, Tom locked his eyes on the illusion "Fuji" and swung hard. The ball crossed the net, heading for the corner.
But it didn't help. "Fuji" blinked across the court and chased the ball down. Then he used both sides of his racket to load the ball with insane spin before hitting it back.
Terry stubbornly aimed a cross-court shot, the ball spinning sharply toward the right side of the court—but the very next second, the net blocked it again. The ball rolled down helplessly along the net and dropped to the ground.
"0-30!"
"No way! It really can't get past the net?!" Terry shouted in disbelief.
"Calm down, Terry! Every technique has a weakness!" Tom called from behind, trying to encourage him.
Hearing his brother's voice helped Terry regain some composure. He returned to the baseline with a grim face and served again. But what followed completely defied both brothers' expectations.
No matter what they tried—Terry or Tom—even when Terry attempted a lob, every attempt to counter "Fuji's" Hecatoncheires no Monban failed. The result was always the same: the ball couldn't cross the net.
"0-40!"
"Game! Fuji and Niō pair! 4-0!"
From the sidelines, Richard finally started to understand. These Kanto representatives were freakishly strong. No wonder that Akashi Corporation manager had offered him such a lucrative deal—it was clearly a trap.
The more he thought about it, the angrier Richard became. But he had no one to blame but himself. He'd come to Japan hoping to use this match to make a quick buck, but clearly, his side simply wasn't good enough.
If Akashi knew what Richard was thinking now, he'd probably sneer—trying to profit off them? Be ready to lose everything. If someone's getting played, it's going to be you.
Game five was supposed to be Niō's serve, but thanks to all the antics earlier, it had somehow become Fuji's serve. Even though there were still two Fujis on court.
Standing at the baseline, Fuji looked across at the Griffey brothers and felt a bit sorry for them. Their teamwork was solid. Too bad they picked the wrong opponents and ended up running into a pair of con artists. Talk about bad luck.
Since the Disappearing Serve had already been seen through, Fuji didn't bother with it. Instead, he fired a high-speed serve. Tom moved quickly, arriving at the spot in time and returning the ball with ease.
The "Fuji" at the net chased down the ball instantly and hit a backhand return, sending it flying toward Terry. Terry sidestepped and blocked the ball, and the rally began again with both sides exchanging rapid shots.
Maybe it was because Niō was still disguised as Fuji, but the two "Fujis" were getting more and more in sync, like veteran doubles partners. This put serious pressure on the Griffey brothers.
It didn't take long for the point to end. "Fuji" unleashed Hecatoncheires no Monban again, and Tom's return didn't make it past the net. But this time, Tom seemed to notice something—there was a thoughtful look on his face.
"15-0!"
Fuji served again. It was a regular serve, nothing fancy, and Tom handled it easily. What bothered them now was "Fuji's" Hecatoncheires no Monban.
As fate would have it, just a few rallies later, "Fuji" used that move again. Tom rushed forward and tried to counter it by adding reverse spin to the ball as he returned it.
As it crossed the net, the ball began to drop sharply again—but this time, it hit the upper part of the net. It still didn't make it over, but Tom knew his judgment had been right.
"30-0!"
On Fuji's third serve, the two sides clashed again. The brothers had clear roles—Terry covered the front and intercepted wide shots, while Tom focused on positioning and reading their opponents.
Honestly, their style wasn't unlike Oishi and Kikumaru. But they hadn't unlocked Synchronization. Maybe they didn't even know what it was. Being raised in America, and judging from Richard's attitude, it was obvious he'd focused more on profits than development. The brothers looked more like pop idols than serious tennis players.
When "Fuji" used Hecatoncheires no Monban again, Tom rushed up to try and break it. This time, he added even more reverse spin. The ball still failed to cross the net, but it hit noticeably higher than before.
"40-0!"
Both Niō and Fuji could tell Tom was trying to break the move, but they didn't seem to care. Not only was this technique hard to break, but Fuji had more than just that one move in his arsenal.
Next point, "Fuji" played Hecatoncheires no Monban again. Tom gave it his all, using the previous two attempts as reference. This time, the ball dropped more slowly and hit the very top of the net before falling back down.
"Game! Fuji and Niō pair! 5-0!"
Game six was Tom's service game. Now that he had some idea how to counter Hecatoncheires no Monban, he figured two more points might be enough to crack it completely.
But the match situation was a mess. He and his brother hadn't taken a single point, and the opponents seemed to be playing at an entirely different level. Wasn't the BOSS the one who said Japanese tennis was weak?
Tom shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. He tossed the ball high and slammed it with force. The ball flew fast toward Terry at the net.
Terry sensed it coming and tilted his head to dodge. The ball sped past him toward the opposing front court. But this move didn't faze "Fuji" anymore. This time, the one receiving should be Fuji, but now it was Niō. Either way, it didn't matter. Even the umpire probably couldn't tell them apart.
"Fuji" darted after the ball and returned the serve quickly. Billy immediately intercepted and aimed the ball at the other Fuji, clearly trying to stop "Fuji" from using that move again.
But Terry was clearly confused—Niō was the one disguised as Fuji, so how could the real Fuji not know his own move? Thankfully, Fuji didn't use Hecatoncheires no Monban this time. Looked like he was back to his sneaky self.
The four players clashed again in a fierce rally. "Fuji" seized an opening and used Hecatoncheires no Monban. Tom was mentally ready for it and rushed forward. The ball nearly touched the top of the net, but still didn't make it over.
"0-15!"
Tom served again, coordinating with Terry as usual. He knew this tactic wasn't effective, but it was still better than a basic serve.
"Fuji" returned it with ease, patiently waiting for his chance. After four or five exchanges, he struck again with Hecatoncheires no Monban.
Tom didn't hesitate. He charged forward, and the ball landed on top of the net, wobbling left and right. Luck wasn't on their side though—it still failed to cross.
"0-30!"
In the stands, some foreign girls had started crying. Watching their idols fight so hard and refuse to give up even when down so badly moved them deeply. Their admiration for the brothers only grew stronger.
Seeing this, Richard suddenly had an idea. Now he didn't care about the brothers losing anymore. He was confident he could win the upcoming singles match.
Tom and Terry weren't giving up. Even though they were completely overwhelmed, this match had let them experience what it felt like to play against true elites. There was excitement, frustration, and above all, a deeper understanding of tennis.
"Fuji" still returned their coordinated serves with ease. The fact that the brothers hadn't resorted to throwing the match earned Fuji and Niō's respect. At least they still had the competitive spirit of real tennis players.
After a few rallies, "Fuji" once again used Hecatoncheires no Monban. But this time, Tom was fully prepared. He believed he could break it.
Sure enough, the ball finally made it over the net. The brothers lit up with joy—it had worked. But just then, Fuji stepped forward and made a move they both knew all too well.
"Being able to return that shot... you're actually pretty good. But…" Fuji said with a smile as he accelerated the ball using both sides of his racket.
The ball soared over the net toward the backcourt. Tom didn't hesitate and went to return it—but this time, the ball dropped before even reaching the net. It hit the ground without ever touching the net itself.
"This is the real Hecatoncheires no Monban," Fuji's voice came softly as the ball hit the court.
"0-40!"
"Oh ya~ That kind of terrifying spin? I can't do that. Puri!" "Fuji" added with a grin.
Fuji gave Niō a look—he'd seen firsthand today just how sneaky this guy was. If you believe Niō too easily, well... good luck, because you're about to get played.
They'd reached match point. The Griffey brothers were mentally breaking down. All that effort, and in the end, it was just a joke to the other side.
But the umpire didn't care about their mood. Seeing Tom hesitate, he quickly urged him to serve. Tom sighed and walked to the baseline with a bitter smile.
This time, Tom served plainly, not bothering with his brother's help. It was obvious they'd completely given up—there was no chance of winning.
Fuji and Niō noticed the shift immediately. "Fuji" casually returned the ball. Tom had dropped his arms and wasn't even trying anymore.
But Terry still sprinted toward the incoming ball. When he first picked up a racket and ball as a kid, he'd fallen in love with tennis. It was only for survival that he later followed Richard and became an idol.
Tom watched his brother running with all he had. Emotions surged inside him. He gripped his racket tighter—he'd fight one last time alongside his brother.
After Terry hit the ball back, he stared at the two identical figures across the court. Fuji was briefly surprised by the look in his eyes. Feeling a gentle breeze on the court, he smiled and said:
"Nice spirit. In that case, let me send you off with a firework to end the match~"
With that, Fuji lifted his racket and hit an uppercut swing, launching the ball high into the air until it vanished from sight.
The Griffey brothers craned their necks, trying to find it in the sky—but there was no trace of the ball. Then, bursts of brilliant fireworks bloomed before their eyes, and a tennis ball came crashing down onto their backcourt baseline.
"Sixth Counter... Hoshi Hanabi," Fuji said softly, holding his racket.
"Game! 6-0! Match over! The winners—Fuji and Niō!"