"15–0!"
As the umpire's call echoed through the air, the stadium fell silent. After the intensity of the previous set, every spectator held their breath, afraid to miss even a single thrilling moment.
"Looks like a normal heavy serve won't cut it anymore. In that case…" Pugu muttered as he stood at the baseline. He tossed the ball high, and a thunderous roar followed as the tennis ball turned into a massive red beam, blasting toward the Japan team's court.
"Shattered Star!"
"What!? He can use that move on serve? And its power… it's stronger than my Two Hundred and Sixteenth Hadoukyu!" Ishida Gin's eyes widened in shock. Only now did he realize that during the first set, their opponents hadn't even been using their full strength.
But there was no time for hesitation. Ishida rushed to the drop point, lowering his stance. The veins on his forehead bulged as he swung his racket with all his might.
"Final… Hadou… Kyuu!" he roared, each word bursting from his throat. A surge of deep-blue energy suddenly erupted from his body, radiating wildly in all directions.
The next second, a massive shockwave wrapped in blue light roared toward the Swiss court. Seeing this, Federer grinned, excitement flashing in his eyes. Gripping his racket tightly with both hands, he met the attack head-on.
The impact made the racket cave in, its frame creaking under the immense force. Federer's grip tightened like steel, refusing to yield. His muscles quivered violently, then exploded with power as he sent the ball blasting back across the net.
Danji was about to step forward to block with Man's Winter, but this time Ishida beat him to it. He dashed up to the net, taking the stance for Final Hadoukyu again, gathering all his power in his left arm before swinging forward without hesitation.
At the instant his racket connected, a faint shadow flickered behind him—gone in a blink. Ishida's expression sharpened as if he had realized something profound, and in that instant, his aura surged even higher.
A golden beam of light burst from his racket, obliterating all the smoke and dust around the court. The crowd could see only that blinding golden pillar tearing through the air.
Both Federer and Pugu felt a sudden, overwhelming illusion—an instinct screaming that they couldn't resist this shot. Forcing the thought down, they charged forward together, merging their rackets to block the golden light.
But before even a single second had passed, both rackets were sent flying high into the air. Federer and Pugu were thrown backward by the impact, while the ball continued its unstoppable path, shooting straight out of the court.
"Shihe—Breaking Barrier!"
"15–15!"
"Wait, that's the resonance move of Ishida Gin and Kawaji! How's he pulling it off alone?" Faruno exclaimed from the Japan bench, clearly stunned.
"Strictly speaking, that resonance wasn't created by Kawaji's own ability," Akashi explained calmly, his gaze fixed on Ishida's left arm. "It came from the duplicate of his Hadoukyu power. That technique was born from the interaction between two Wave energies. Since Ishida's perfected his own, it's entirely possible for him to use it solo."
"Ha, looks like Gin's finally broken through under pressure," Duke said with a proud grin, his tone full of approval.
"Heh, not bad at all, baldy brat," Byoudouin chuckled, clearly impressed. He hadn't expected Ishida to evolve mid-match.
Federer and Pugu soon returned to the court, seemingly unaffected by the last rally. Pugu stepped back to the baseline, ready to serve again, when a sudden voice rang out from the Japan side.
"Umpire! The Japan team forfeits this match!"
Everyone froze. Akashi was standing beside the umpire's chair, having appeared there unnoticed, his calm voice announcing the decision. Apart from Mifune, everyone was stunned, unsure what he was doing.
"Why surrender!? I refuse to accept this!" Danji shouted from the court, his voice full of disbelief.
Akashi ignored him and walked straight up to Ishida, his eyes locked coldly on the older boy's left arm.
"Your left arm is fractured. You're going to the hospital for immediate treatment—now," Akashi said flatly.
"Akashi-kun… you must be mistaken…" Ishida tried to protest weakly.
"My command is absolute. Now—get off the court!" Akashi cut him off sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
In the original match between Japan and Germany, something similar had happened—Oni's wrist was shattered by QP. Even so, he endured the pain and forced himself to finish the match. Akashi had admired Oni's will and conviction, but he could never agree with such recklessness.
Once a player is injured during a match, they must receive treatment immediately. If they stubbornly continue to play, the damage can worsen and may even shorten their entire athletic career. That was why Akashi would never allow Ishida Gin to stay on the court any longer.
Hearing Akashi's words, Danji fell silent. He understood very well that in battles of this power level, a fracture could be devastating—and if pushed any further, it could easily result in permanent injury.
"Since the Japan team's player can no longer continue, this match ends here! Winner—Switzerland! Overall score, 1–0!"
In the end, Ishida obeyed Akashi's order and was escorted to the nearest hospital by the medical staff. The expressions of the Japan team members were grim—not because of the loss in doubles, but out of concern for Ishida's injury.
Federer and Pugu exchanged a glance but didn't celebrate as usual. They quietly returned to their bench, their faces solemn. Along with respect for Ishida, there was also a trace of regret in their eyes.
"Good work. That makes it one win and one loss, exactly as planned. The next one's on you—don't let me down, Henri." Amadeus praised the Swiss duo before turning to speak to Henri.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure to bring back the victory," Henri said with a confident smile, picking up his racket and walking gracefully toward the court.
The Japan team quickly regained focus after the initial tension. Kirihara Akaya stepped forward, gripping his racket tightly, his expression deadly serious.
"The next match—Singles 3—will now begin! Switzerland: Henri Nobel III, third-year middle school! Japan: Kirihara Akaya, second-year middle school! Players, enter the court!"
As the umpire finished the announcement, both players stepped onto the court and shook hands at the net. Henri's manners were flawless—polished, perfect, without a single flaw to find. Kirihara, unusually, was also solemn and returned the greeting properly.
"So my opponent isn't that red-haired high schooler after all? What a shame… but I suppose this works too. I can finish things faster," Henri said, his tone polite but his words dripping with arrogance.
"Hah? You looking down on me? Be careful—you might end up dyed red before you know it!" Kirihara shot back sharply, his voice full of irritation.
"Heh… big talk. You'll only be able to say that for now," Henri sneered, glancing at him with utter disdain.
"You bastard!!" Kirihara flared up instantly but forced himself to calm down after a second. Still, the dangerous gleam in his eyes said everything.
Seeing the tension rise, the umpire hurried them along to decide serve order. Henri's arrogance was infuriating, but Kirihara's luck was good—he won the toss for first serve.
"The match will be best of three sets! Japan to serve first!"
Meanwhile, over in the United States versus Greece match, Hercules had taken Zeus's advice to heart. He began altering his play style mid-match, swinging instinctively rather than relying on premeditated thoughts. This minimized Kiko's ability to predict his moves psychologically.
Though it was a doubles match, the real battle was between Kiko and Hercules. Evan and Rocky were mostly there to cover positions—their skills hadn't yet caught up with the pace.
"Game! Greece! 2–1!"
"Not bad~ He's actually managed to change his style mid-match," Dodo whistled from the U.S. bench, clearly impressed.
"Not just that," Hopkins added, "that Greek high schooler's playing by instinct now. Kiko's psychological reads can't keep up."
"But Kiko-senpai's luck is still as crazy as ever, right?" Ryōma grinned, leaning back.
"Hah, I like hearing that! Go on, say more nice things!" Kiko laughed, calling back from the coach's seat.
Ryōma sighed, a dark line forming on his forehead, which only made Kiko and Dodo burst out laughing. Even Rhinehart cracked a smile. Under his leadership, the U.S. team's atmosphere was relaxed and harmonious.
"Looks like there's no suspense left in this match for the U.S.," Ryōga said with a smirk from the stands. "I just wonder how the old man's team is doing. But knowing this year's Japan team, I bet they'll give him a huge surprise. He might already be regretting coaching Spain by now."