Obviously, the difference in strength between him and Taki Haginosuke wasn't so great that he couldn't even receive the serve.
Not to mention—while Taki Haginosuke's serve had a tricky angle, that was all.
Its overly direct trajectory exposed the fact that his technical refinement was not his strongest point.
Tap, tap…
Between his rapid footsteps, the moment the tennis ball bounced off the ground but hadn't yet risen too high, Ryohei Rin caught up with it and appeared right at the net.
Bang!
His familiar forehand flat drive erupted.
The ball transformed into a blazing orange beam of light, tearing through the court with such speed it left afterimages in the air.
Fast as always.
Faster than most eyes could track.
"I told you!"
"There's no way the same move will work on me twice!"
This was Taki Haginosuke's own service game.
With the advantage of the serve, he had more time to prepare for Rin's return.
He hadn't wasted the last rally.
Now, his eyes had gradually adapted to Rin's terrifying ball speed.
"As expected of Taki Haginosuke…"
Shishido Ryo's eyes lit up. He could tell Taki had figured out a way to respond.
In front of someone with such sharp dynamic vision, winning with speed alone was impossible.
"He adapted to Rin's ball speed in advance, so there's no suspense in this point. Taki will take it," Oshitari Yuushi remarked calmly from the sidelines.
Once you adapt to the speed, the nerves fire quicker, sending sharper instructions to the body.
With enough focus, even a ball once impossible to catch becomes manageable.
Oshitari's reasoning was simple.
From what he had seen, Ryohei Rin had excellent physical fitness, but…
His tennis experience, tactical awareness, and playing style were still immature.
Even his superior physique offered little advantage against Taki Haginosuke, a prospect already known at the junior level.
If Rin's quick-starting flat shots could be caught—
Then the balance of victory would tip sharply in Taki's favor.
Bang! Bang!
As predicted, Taki, fully concentrated, blocked the counterattack that flew like a bullet.
"Phew… That was close."
Though he'd adapted to Rin's speed, the pace was still terrifying.
His eyes barely managed to follow the ball's path.
Only by combining that vision with a touch of prediction had he managed to withstand Rin's strike.
"Snort… That's all you've got?"
Taki's lips curved into a confident smile.
Scanning quickly, he spotted Rin's defensive blind spot.
Bang!
The ball spun with a sharp slice, landing toward Rin's opposite side with fierce rotation.
This was the kind of shot that forced errors. Taki was already picturing Rin's desperate attempt to chase it down—only to see it bounce out at an impossible angle.
The moment of despair would be perfect for ridicule.
"What should I say to break him?"
"Maybe one cruel line to shatter his confidence…"
His eyes narrowed with satisfaction.
But then—
The expected sight never came.
Instead, Taki's expression twisted in disbelief.
"Huh?!"
"What's going on?"
"My eyes—where did he go?!"
His mind went blank, stripped of the ability to process what he was seeing.
It wasn't just him.
Oshitari and Shishido both froze, their eyes wide, confusion written on their faces.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three rapid collisions echoed behind Taki.
"When—?!"
"What the hell?!"
He turned, stunned, to see the ball rebounding off the back wall.
How? When had it gotten past him?
Was this even reasonable?
No one had seen it!
In tennis, points weren't won with illusions.
And yet—
The court fell silent.
Only the dull thuds of the ball bouncing echoed.
Finally—
"0–15."
Ryohei Rin stood calmly on the court, expression as indifferent as ever.
The trick was simple yet devastating: by suppressing his presence and guiding the opponent's attention toward the ball, he created the illusion of disappearing, slipping from their vision like a phantom.
This was no ordinary technique.
It was the Kuroko "Misdirection"—refined through the Strongest Player System.
And in the world of tennis, it was lethal.
"Keep serving." Rin's tone was cold. "I don't have time to waste on you."
"…Serve?"
"Oh… right…"
Taki nodded stiffly, still dazed, and tossed the ball into the air.
His swing, however, was shaky, the serve's quality poor.
Bang! Bang!
"0–30."
Bang! Bang!
"0–40."
Bang!
"Game, Ryohei Rin. 2-0."