"Not bad at all~" Pugu wasn't angry or embarrassed that his racket had been knocked away. Smiling, he calmly picked it up and looked at Ishida Gin with growing interest.
"Finally, I don't have to worry about accidentally hurting my opponent. Now, I can go all out!" Federer said with excitement as he stood at the baseline.
The instant he spoke, Federer tossed the ball up high. A thunderous crack followed as the tennis ball tore through the air with a piercing whistle, blasting straight toward Japan's half of the court.
Date didn't dare take it lightly. He slid to the landing point, his right arm bulging like it was filled with air, and swung down with full force. A violent burst of transparent energy shot forward through the cloud of dust he'd raised.
"Try this! Man's Summer!!"
Pugu's expression hardened. He stepped forward and met the shot head-on with both hands gripping his racket. The power of the shot drove him backward across the court, his shoes scraping the ground, but his grip held firm—this time, his racket wasn't going anywhere. After a short struggle, he managed to return Date's Man's Summer.
The Japan team's bench looked puzzled when they saw Ishida Gin already standing at the baseline in his signature stance, even though the ball wasn't heading his way.
Then, unexpectedly, Ishida raised his left arm, and the ball curved midair, as if pulled by an invisible force, slamming straight into his racket.
"Reverse Style 200 Hadoukyu!!!" Ishida roared, his face fierce as his left arm exploded with power, unleashing a massive golden shockwave that thundered across the court.
The ball split the rising dust apart, leaving a clear trail as it tore forward. Even the net shuddered violently under the wave's lingering pressure.
Pugu moved to intercept, but Federer was already there, charging to the net. His body seemed to swell as he swung his racket with full strength into the incoming blast.
The moment his strings met the ball, the racket bent deeply inward from the impact. A screech of friction filled the court, followed by the strained creak of a frame on the verge of snapping.
A dense smoke cloud burst up from the impact zone, obscuring everything. The audience couldn't see what happened—until a racket suddenly flew out from the haze. That alone told the story.
"0–30!"
"Tch~ Seems I underestimated you, Japanese middle schooler," Federer said with a faint laugh, shaking his head. He didn't seem particularly bothered by the lost point.
Pugu then turned toward Federer, their eyes meeting in silent understanding. After a brief nod to each other, both returned to position. Date noticed the exchange but couldn't guess what they were planning, silently reminding himself to stay alert.
"That last shot from Gin-chan was weird," Irie said from Japan's bench, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Yeah, the ball changed direction—like something invisible pulled it in. But it's not a domain, that's for sure," Tanegashima added, recognizing the difference immediately.
"Heh~ You'll figure it out soon enough. Still, Date's coordination with him isn't half bad," Duke chuckled, clearly understanding what was happening.
"Looks like you've trained a fine power-type player at the camp," Byoudouin said approvingly, glancing at Duke. The tone carried a quiet sense of pride—after all, this world tournament would be their last before graduation. From the next one on, the middle schoolers would carry Japan's future.
On the court, Federer served again, the ball rocketing toward Japan's side with tremendous force.
A sharp glint flashed in Ishida Gin's eyes. Suddenly, his entire body was engulfed in a deep blue flame, his form vanishing from sight in the next instant.
"Arrival of the Myōō!"
When the ball landed, Ishida was already there, waiting in perfect position, body coiled and ready. His muscles bulged so fiercely that it looked like his uniform might rip apart at any moment.
"Style 216 Hadoukyu!!!"
With a shout, Ishida swung. A beam crackling with electric light pierced through the haze, ripping forward with unstoppable impact toward the Swiss court.
"I was waiting for this! You won't score again!" Pugu stepped forward, lowering his stance as he met the shot with both hands gripping the racket.
A blast like an explosion echoed across the arena. The ball pounded relentlessly against Pugu's strings, each hit echoing like thunder—but Pugu's stance didn't waver. Though his arms trembled slightly from the strain, it was clear that Ishida's current power still wasn't enough to shake him.
Then, using his unique striking technique, Pugu instantly countered the shot. Before switching to tennis, he had been a professional mixed martial artist, and in terms of power mechanics alone, even Duke would have trouble matching him.
The ball shot back across the net, but before it could land, a figure appeared in front of it. Gripping his racket with both hands, he intercepted the shot cleanly. In the blink of an eye, a yellow afterimage flashed, and the ball bounced straight out of bounds before Pugu or Federer could even react.
"Man's Autumn!"
"0–40!"
Standing at the net, Date's expression turned serious as he stared at the two opponents across from him. He knew exactly how powerful Ishida Gin's Style 216 Hadoukyu was—after all, even when he and Bannya had combined strength, they couldn't return it.
But Pugu had just returned that very same shot using nothing but his own strength. The realization shook Date to his core. Though he had scored with his Man's Autumn through sheer surprise, a faint sense of dread crept into his chest for the rounds to come.
'Looks like we'll have to give it everything to win this match. I finally got my chance to play—there's no way I'm walking off the court in defeat!' he thought, clenching his teeth as resolve flared in his eyes.
Across from him, Ishida Gin was feeling the same crushing pressure. Under Duke-senpai's guidance, he had improved drastically—his striking mechanics refined, his Hadoukyu far stronger than before. But even so, his opponents still hadn't revealed their full power.
'No matter what, I can't lose this match! If it means giving up everything—even if I can't play again after this—it's worth it!' Ishida thought silently, his fighting spirit burning hotter. His aura began to climb, thick and heavy, filling the air with tension.
"You can hit at high speed too, huh? Didn't expect that," Federer murmured as he took position at the baseline. "But that kind of technique isn't for true power players. If you can't focus every ounce of strength into one point, your path of power won't last long."
He tossed the ball and struck again. This time, the impact was so loud that several people in the crowd covered their ears. The serve shredded the lingering smoke and tore straight toward Ishida's right side.
Ishida burst forward, his feet hammering the ground as he reached the ball's bounce point. But instead of setting up for another Hadoukyu, he swung his racket in a clean, sharp backhand.
Federer's eyes widened slightly—his own powerful serve seemed to lose all momentum the instant it hit Ishida's racket, returning effortlessly across the court.
Fortunately, Pugu was quick to react. Using a left sliding step straight out of his martial arts background, he intercepted the ball in front. Yet, even his counter was returned just as easily by Ishida—as if it were an ordinary, harmless rally.
In the next instant, Pugu realized something was wrong. Ishida wasn't in the backcourt anymore. Without anyone noticing, he had already moved up to the net. The ball had floated over and was now dropping lightly toward the court.
"Game! Japan! 1–0!"
"That was… Duke's short drop shot?!" Tanegashima said in surprise from the bench.
"No, call it Gin-chan's drop shot!" Duke replied with a grin. Whether he was joking or not, no one could tell.
"Wait, that looked like Hadoukyu Nullification, right? But he didn't even use a Hadoukyu…" Shiraishi tilted his head in confusion, unable to make sense of what just happened.
"Actually, Hadoukyu is just a special power technique," Akashi explained calmly. "If Ishida Gin can nullify the Hadoukyu, then theoretically, as long as he masters more power mechanics, he can nullify any pure power-based shot."
As he spoke, Akashi's gaze shifted toward Duke. He knew very well—there was only one person in the Japan team capable of teaching Ishida that many power-generation techniques in such a short time. Duke's European background made him intimately familiar with the mechanics those players relied on.
'I hope the two of you, like Ryōma, can break through your limits and rise even higher…' Akashi thought quietly as he looked at Date and Ishida on court. He knew Japan's chances of winning were slim—especially with Duke still drained from yesterday's match. Their luck this time simply wasn't great.
Before the second game began, Federer and Pugu exchanged a glance. Then both suddenly let out a deep roar. The sound of tearing fabric echoed through the stadium.
Everyone's eyes turned toward the court—both players' Swiss team uniforms had shredded completely, revealing their bulging, sculpted muscles underneath.
That sight was all too familiar to the Japan team. After all, Duke often did the same thing. And whenever he did… it meant only one thing: he was about to get serious.