"So strong! Can anyone even return that kind of serve?"
"Is he really a middle school student?"
"Fudomine Middle School? Never heard of it before. Don't tell me it's some new tennis powerhouse?"
Without question, the Gyokurin Middle School duo, who had previously driven Seigaku's pair into total defeat, were now completely helpless before Seiya.
To be fair, Seiya and An's doubles coordination wasn't any stronger than Ryoma and Momo's earlier. An might have a bit of doubles experience, but Seiya himself was clearly playing his first. Their formation was full of holes.
But so what? Even if Seiya was the only one returning balls, Gyokurin's Izumi and Fukawa were powerless.
Bluntly put, this so-called "doubles match" was really just Seiya fighting two people alone.
As for An—her only contribution was the opening serve that inevitably got returned. No matter who teamed up with Seiya, the outcome would be exactly the same.
"Your strength is incredible. We're no match at all. But you only won because we were too weak. We'll never admit that what you're playing is real doubles."
Seiya ignored their sore-loser remarks. He'd never intended to play proper doubles anyway.
After becoming the new court king, he turned toward the crowd. "Anyone else want to challenge me?"
No one answered.
Of course not—when the strongest pair here had been flattened so easily, who would volunteer to get crushed next?
"According to the rules, if there are no new challengers, the previous losers are allowed to return, right?"
Izumi and Fukawa both nodded.
At the same time, Ryoma and Momo had already thrown off their jackets, gripping their rackets eagerly as if itching to jump back in.
Clearly, Seiya's performance had lit a fire inside them.
If earlier they fought only to respond to provocation, now they genuinely wanted to face him head-on.
They were all hot-blooded teens—how could they possibly sleep tonight after meeting a rival like this?
"Since no one else is stepping up, can we change the format? Let's switch from doubles to singles. Playing doubles with Momo-senpai will only hold me back."
Ryoma's words had barely left his mouth when Momo scowled and hooked an arm around his neck. "You've got some nerve saying that. The one getting in the way here is you!"
Both of them clearly preferred singles. And from Seiya's earlier play, it was obvious he was a solo type as well—An had been little more than a human ball machine.
"Izumi, Fukawa, everyone—how about we make an exception this once? I don't want to keep being a mascot. Besides, how often do you get to see a match between real powerhouses?"
Since everyone at the street court helped decide the rules, and An was a regular here, her suggestion carried weight.
"Your boyfriend's so strong that no one else is going to challenge him anyway. Might as well let them have their singles match."
With approval granted, Ryoma and Momo were thrilled—and immediately settled who'd go first with a fierce round of rock-paper-scissors.
In the end, Momo won two out of three, pumped his fist, and stepped onto the court with excitement.
"We'll follow standard match rules—first to take six games wins. I'll act as referee. Any objections?"
Both nodded in agreement, and An tossed the tennis ball to the challenger, Momo.
Hearing "standard rules" put Momo at ease.
Honestly, if it were still just one-game sudden death, he wasn't confident at all. So far, he still hadn't adjusted to Seiya's movements or speed.
He tossed the ball high, leaned forward, and served with power—then charged the net.
"That's Momo-senpai's Bullet Serve! He's trying to serve-and-volley—to get a clearer read on his opponent's movements?"
Watching closely, Ryoma instantly understood his intent—and had to admit, Momo's judgment was spot-on.
"Why does serve-and-volley make it easier to observe the opponent?"
A sudden female voice beside him almost made him jump. Turning, Ryoma saw a familiar face—Shiba Saori, the Tennis Monthly reporter who'd covered Seigaku's team selection last time—along with her colleague, the middle-aged journalist Inoue Mamoru.
"'Serve-and-volley' means serving and rushing the net at the same time," Inoue explained. "Momo's Bullet Serve is already fast, so combining it with a charge forward is extremely difficult. But the advantage is obvious—at the net, you can use your height to pressure the opponent's baseline returns, read their motion better, and even create psychological pressure."
Inoue had come to this street court after overhearing rumors about an exceptionally strong middle schooler.
As a Tennis Monthly reporter, finding promising young players was literally his job.
He hadn't expected the so-called prodigies to include Seigaku's very own Ryoma and Momo.
He knew Seigaku's reputation well—top seeds in both the district and Tokyo prelims, and constant contenders for Kanto and national titles.
But as for the boy named Seiya, whom Momo was now facing—he'd never heard the name before.
Momo had just unleashed his serve and confidently rushed forward when—before he'd even taken three steps—a golden streak of light suddenly shot past his feet.
"What—?! My Bullet Serve was returned that easily?!"
"Fifteen–love!"
As An announced the score, not only Momo but even the newly arrived Inoue and Saori were struck speechless.
"Bullet Serve, huh? Sure, it's faster than most, but if that's all you've got, don't expect to score a single point off me."
(Author's note: A lot of people say my writing's too slow or not exciting enough. Honestly, I could make it full of over-the-top power-ups and instant god-mode fights—but those kinds of "OP from the start" multiverse stories usually collapse before 200k words. I want to write this one properly, so the early stages won't be too overpowered. If that's not your style, I can only apologize! (ToT)/~~~)
(End of Chapter)
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