While the medics were urgently treating Bobby's injuries, a representative from the tennis association came over to Richard, asking if the remaining two matches would still continue.
After all, the current total score was 3-0 in favor of the Kantō team. Technically, the victory was already secured. But since this wasn't an official match and was more for exhibition, the audience didn't want it to end so soon.
Richard was conflicted. He wasn't sure if continuing would make things worse. More importantly, he had already lost the bet with the Akashi Corporation—which meant he was facing a massive financial loss, possibly even bankruptcy.
However, if the remaining matches could please the sponsors, he might still have a shot. And if he ended it now, Kevin definitely wouldn't be happy. Richard didn't care about the others, but Kevin was someone he couldn't afford to cross.
So, after a long pause, Richard gritted his teeth and agreed to continue the matches. This was his last option—otherwise, he'd have to find a way to run.
Just then, Bobby let out another pained scream from the court. He had regained consciousness thanks to emergency treatment, but when the medics tried to carry him out on a stretcher, something went wrong.
Bobby's size and weight were way beyond what the medics could handle. The moment they tried to lift him, they nearly lost their grip. Plus, the stretcher was a bit too small for Bobby, and in the end, he fell off it.
With no other choice, the medics had to call in six staff members and use two stretchers to finally move Bobby. The whole scene left the crowd speechless.
Still, the audience wasn't too concerned about Bobby's injuries this time. He didn't appear to be seriously hurt from the outside—there was no blood everywhere—so they stayed interested, wondering if the next match would happen.
After Richard and the tennis association representative finished discussing, the event host, representing the Akashi Corporation, was informed. Soon, the MC received the signal and stepped up to announce that the matches would continue.
Since the previous match between Akutsu and Bobby had left the court a mess—Bobby's side was covered with his saliva, sweat, and a bit of blood—they needed to clean up before the next match. It could affect the next player.
During that short break, Richard went to the Kantō team's locker room to find Tōyama Kintarō, the next player. He had already gotten the list of the next two players through the tennis association.
Kintarō didn't know what the strange ojisan wanted with him, but being simple-minded, he didn't overthink it and cheerfully chatted with Richard. Akutsu didn't say anything either—there were so many people around, it's not like Richard could kidnap Kintarō or anything.
Then Richard began telling Kintarō the story of Arnold Ignashov, hoping to earn his sympathy with a tragic backstory and make him throw the match.
After hearing the whole thing, Kintarō smiled and reassured Richard, saying he understood how to play the next match.
Richard was thrilled. 'Kids really are easy to trick,' he thought, then excused himself with the pretense of not wanting to disturb Kintarō before the match. But he didn't know Kintarō's way of thinking was far from normal.
After Richard left, Akutsu walked over and asked Kintarō what they'd talked about. Naturally, Kintarō told him everything, then grinned excitedly and said:
"So my opponent today loves tennis too, just like me! That's great! Then I've decided! I'm gonna go all out in this match and help him feel how fun tennis is!"
Hearing that, Akutsu's eye twitched. He looked in the direction Richard had gone and smirked sarcastically. 'Serves you right for trying to be clever and getting played instead.'
"Kintarō, did you forget what Akashi told you about limiting your strength to 60%?" Akutsu asked.
"Oh yeah! Totally slipped my mind! Thanks, Jin~ Then I'll go all out… within that limit!" Kintarō said happily.
"For the last time! Don't call me Jin!" Akutsu snapped.
"Got it! I won't, Jin!"...
Time passed quickly, and the MC returned to the stage to introduce the two players for the next match. This time, the West Coast representative from the U.S. was introduced first—Arnold Ignashov.
Arnold Ignashov
Wearing a cold expression, Arnold slowly walked out from the U.S. team's entrance tunnel. His aura matched his nicknames—"Tennis Machine" and "Steel Scorpion." Totally unapproachable.
In the VIP box, Akashi watched Arnold but was already thinking about the World Tournament. He remembered that in the original storyline, several players from this West Coast team made it onto the U.S. U-17 national team. He wondered if it was because the U.S. lacked talent or the author was just lazy to come up with new characters.
Either way, this exhibition match counted as an early encounter with the U.S. U-17 team members. The gap in strength was still huge—Akashi knew very well that none of his team had even used half their real strength in the previous three matches. Akutsu especially.
Now the MC started introducing the Kantō team player. As soon as he called out "Tōyama Kintarō," the red-haired boy came bouncing out of the entrance tunnel. He leapt high into the air, flipping several times before landing right in front of Hanamura Aoi.
One thing worth noting—Kintarō was the only player who hadn't taken off his jacket. Under the Kantō team uniform, he was still wearing that leopard-print vest. No one knew why he was so obsessed with that outfit.
Kintarō's entrance left Hanamura Aoi momentarily stunned. No one had expected him to show up in such a flamboyant way. The crowd instantly erupted in cheers, chanting his name.
That only made Kintarō even more excited and happy. He bounced around the edge of the court, grinning and waving at the audience. Seeing his playful innocence, the spectators responded even more enthusiastically.
In an instant, the whole stadium's energy hit its peak. Waves of cheers echoed throughout. At the tunnel entrance, Echizen Ryōma watched Kintarō with a tinge of envy in his eyes. Unfortunately, it looked like he wouldn't get a chance to play today.
After all, standing beside him was Rikkai's captain, the Child of God—Yukimura Seiichi. Unless Yukimura gave up his singles match, there was no way Ryōma would get to play.
At that moment, Akutsu Jin, Niō Masaharu, Fuji Shūsuke, and Sanada Genichirō all walked over to watch Kintarō's match. Neither Akutsu nor Sanada had any interest in the doubles matches earlier.
Sanada had mixed feelings about Niō. He fully acknowledged Niō's strength—if he let his guard down, he'd probably lose to him—but Niō's habit of pranking others was seriously irritating.
He had suffered more than once thanks to Niō's illusion abilities. There was even a moment of social death. If Yukimura hadn't stepped in to smooth things over, Sanada might've exploded on the spot.
"The next match is Singles 2! Representing the Kantō team: Tōyama Kintarō! And from the U.S. West Coast team: Arnold Ignashov! Players, please enter the court!"
Kintarō and Arnold entered the court together. Richard, watching from the sidelines, was in a much better mood now. He was confident Arnold would win. His machine-like precision would definitely attract the sponsors.
As the two met at the net, Kintarō cheerfully held out his hand to greet Arnold. Arnold silently reached out and shook his hand, face as expressionless as ever.
"I heard you really love tennis. Let's have fun out there today!" Kintarō said brightly during the handshake.
Arnold didn't say a word. His cold gaze stayed fixed on Kintarō as he waited for the umpire's signal.
Sensing the awkward tension, the umpire quickly gestured for the coin toss. Arnold won the serve. Finally, the U.S. West Coast team had secured a chance to serve.
"First game! U.S. West Coast team to serve!"
Arnold silently walked to the baseline, his eyes sharp. In his mind, victory was all that mattered. If you couldn't win, nothing else meant anything.
In that way, he was a bit like Akashi. But unlike Akashi, Arnold didn't have the strength to back up his ideals. That was the key difference between them.
Before serving, Arnold locked eyes on the back corner of Kintarō's left side. He tossed the ball and hit it cleanly, sending it flying to the back-left corner.
But with a single leap, Kintarō was already there. He spun once mid-air and slammed the ball with power. The ball turned into a flash of light, blasting straight toward Arnold.
Arnold immediately started analyzing Kintarō's movements while sprinting toward the ball. He reached it just in time and returned it, though he frowned slightly at the weight behind it.
Kintarō beamed with joy, taking a few quick steps forward. He jumped with his body tilted, spun several times mid-air, and smashed the ball again with full force.
Arnold, having felt Kintarō's power from the last hit, braced with both hands on his racket. But the weight still exceeded his expectations. He managed to return it, though barely.
The two began a rapid rally. As they exchanged shots, Arnold kept analyzing Kintarō's movements, trying to decode his playstyle and habits.
Kintarō, on the other hand, was simply enjoying the game. And with Richard's story fresh in his mind, his attacks became even more fierce. Arnold's pressure kept rising.
Eventually, Arnold couldn't fully block Kintarō's return and got caught by a hard shot to his right side, losing the first point.
"0-15!"
Still, Arnold felt he had already deciphered most of Kintarō's movement patterns. A few more balls and he'd have the rhythm of the match down.
Expressionless as ever, Arnold returned to the baseline, eyes now locked on Kintarō's right corner. He served again, aiming sharply at that spot.
Kintarō pushed off the ground, flipping backward several times through the air until he landed right at the right corner, returning the ball with a strong swing. Arnold was stunned—the movement was completely different from the last one.
Not in terms of the basic motion, but in behavioral patterns. Most players had fixed styles. By analyzing those, one could predict their next move. Arnold had relied on this method—similar to data tennis.
But unfortunately for him, Kintarō was a total wildcard. He never had a set pattern. He moved purely on instinct. Even Inui Sadaharu and Yanagi Renji had failed to model his playstyle—Arnold didn't stand a chance.
Still, Arnold reacted quickly, darting to the landing point and sending the ball back. At the same time, he instinctively resumed his analysis. The rally turned intense again, just like the first point.
Kintarō's bright laughter echoed around the court. Everyone in the crowd could feel his pure love for tennis. Many were even drawn into his joy, smiling with him.
"0-30!"
Arnold still couldn't take the point, but he firmly believed his analysis was right—that first ball had to be a deliberate fake.
But the very next shot shattered all of Arnold's hope. Seeing Kintarō change his movement pattern again, he felt a deep sense of malice from the world. This kind of opponent was pure kryptonite for him.
"0-40!"
"Game! Tōyama Kintarō! 1-0!"
As expected, Kintarō easily took the first game. But the number of rallies made him really happy. So for his next service game, he planned to use a new technique he'd recently mastered.
At the start of the second game, Kintarō stepped to the baseline, excitedly tossing the ball high into the air. He began spinning in place, and the next moment, flames erupted from his racket. As the ball dropped to the perfect spot, Kintarō smashed it down hard.
"Here it comes! Super Megaton Deluxe Volcano Serve!" he shouted loudly.
The tennis ball turned into a blazing fireball and blasted toward the other side of the court. As it flew past the net, flames ignited the mesh itself, forming a fiery line between the two players. When the ball landed, it erupted like a volcano, firelight shooting in all directions.
Arnold stared blankly at the scene, completely unsure what to do. It wasn't until a streak of flame passed in front of him and the umpire's voice called out that he snapped back to reality.
"Ace! 15-0! Match paused for net replacement!"
That's right—Kintarō had turned his volcano move into a serve. Lately, he'd noticed that lots of players had their own unique serves. He wanted one too, mostly because yelling out a move name during serve felt super cool. He finally got it to work and even kindly offered to teach Akutsu—though Akutsu flat-out refused.
The net was quickly replaced. While that happened, Akutsu came to the sideline and told Kintarō to hit it higher next time so he wouldn't burn the net again. Kintarō nodded seriously.
Meanwhile, Richard was starting to question everything. Kintarō's tennis had shaken him to the core. He never imagined tennis could be this powerful. Or maybe he'd just never truly paid attention to the sport before.
Arnold felt the same. Even though he'd trained at Richard's tennis base, this kind of tennis was completely foreign to him. So many of the Japan Team's moves were beyond his understanding.
It showed how important vision really was. Arnold had been locked into a low-tier system under Richard's training—pure mechanical repetition. He never even considered developing special techniques. Only Billy Cassidy and Kevin Smith had unique skills among their team.
Back on court, Kintarō spun again, launching another fireball serve at Arnold. Arnold had no answers. All he could do was repeatedly witness the beauty of the volcanic blast up close.
"Ace! 30-0!"
"Ace! 40-0!"
"Game! Tōyama Kintarō! 2-0!"
The third game was Arnold's service game. Despite being shaken, his belief in winning kept him from giving up. He tried his best to serve again.
But even with Kintarō limiting himself to 60% strength, he was still far beyond Arnold. And this was without activating Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami. If he did, Arnold probably wouldn't even touch the ball.
"Game! Tōyama Kintarō! 3-0! Change court and rest!"
Kintarō took the third game just as easily. Richard was growing restless on the sidelines. This wasn't going at all how he expected. Didn't that Kintarō kid promise to lose?
Arnold returned to the bench. Richard looked at him and coldly said, "You know what'll happen if you lose this match."
For the first time, panic appeared on Arnold's otherwise expressionless face. Then his gaze turned firm—he absolutely couldn't lose. He'd die before returning to that old life.
But some things aren't up to willpower alone. In the fourth game, Kintarō hit four more volcano serves. Arnold tried to return them, but that kind of power was completely out of his league.
"Ace! 15-0!"
"30-0!"
"40-0!"
"Game! Tōyama Kintarō! 4-0!"
As Kintarō won the fourth game, Richard stared at him, eyes asking, 'Didn't you promise to lose?'
Kintarō noticed the look and gave a cheerful nod. That eased Richard's worries a bit. But what Kintarō was actually thinking was: 'Guess this old guy thinks I'm still not using my full strength~'
As Arnold served in the fifth game, Kintarō instantly appeared at the landing spot and returned the ball. Then he began spinning rapidly in place, creating a giant tornado on the court.
Arnold's mind went blank. He returned the ball on instinct, but the wind lifted it high into the air. The next moment, Kintarō flipped through the tornado and launched himself into the sky, then smashed the ball down with full power.
"Old man! Are you watching?! This is my full strength—Super Ultra Great Delicious Mountain Storm!" Kintarō shouted at the top of his lungs.
A blinding red glow covered the whole court. The ball rocketed toward Arnold like a meteor. His instincts screamed to dodge. His body obeyed, diving to the left just in time.
The ball crashed into the court, shaking the entire stadium. Dust and debris flew everywhere, forcing the front row audience to cover their faces.
"0-15!"
After that, Arnold completely lost the will to fight back. Kintarō quickly finished the match with ease, which left him slightly disappointed.
"Game! 6-0! Match over! Winner: Tōyama Kintarō!"