"Momoshiro's bullet serve just got returned for a point! And that ball's flight speed—it was way too abnormal!"
Momoshiro's strength was something Inoue and Shiba Saori had already witnessed back during Seigaku's intra-school selection matches.
Among all the second-years from various prestigious tennis schools, Momoshiro's ability and talent were easily among the best of the best.
And yet, even after pulling out his signature bullet serve, he couldn't even make it to the net before his opponent sent the ball straight back for a clean winner.
"That wasn't an ordinary return," Ryoma said. "He even aimed right at Momoshiro-senpai's foot in that instant. Not only is his speed incredible—his control is terrifying too."
Hearing that, Inoue's eyes widened as he noticed the deep mark left by a tennis ball right beside Momoshiro's foot, exactly where Ryoma had said—on the foot that hadn't even landed yet.
"Saori! Quick, grab the camera! That middle schooler playing against Momoshiro isn't some random kid. With that kind of speed and precision, he's easily among the top in the entire country. He might even be one of the contenders for the Kanto or even the National Tournament!"
Just one return was enough for Inoue to take Seiya seriously.
He could tell right away this wasn't someone unknown—but strangely, he couldn't recall ever hearing of him before.
For someone this strong, it didn't make sense that Inoue, a veteran tennis reporter, had never seen his name anywhere.
"Inoue-senpai doesn't recognize him either? Then maybe, like Ryoma, he just came back from overseas… or he's a first-year?"
"This game goes to Wenren Seiya. The score is 1–0. Seiya to serve next."
While Ryoma and the others were talking, Momoshiro had already lost four straight points and dropped his serve.
But Momoshiro wasn't too discouraged—because in that last rally, he could finally barely keep up with Seiya's pace.
"Wenren Seiya, huh… I'm sure I've never heard that name before. I wonder what kind of serve he's got in store for his own service game?"
It wasn't just Inoue who was curious; both Momoshiro and Ryoma were watching Seiya's movements with full attention.
Though they had seen Seiya play before, all the previous serves had been taken by An. This was the first time anyone was seeing Seiya's own serve.
He lightly tossed the ball in his hand, glanced down at his racket, then smirked. "Since I've got the chance… maybe I'll give it a try."
The ball was tossed high. Seiya's gaze sharpened to a knife's edge.
As the ball descended in a smooth arc, his arm flashed like a streak of light.
A split second later, the net in the middle of the court trembled as a sonic boom echoed—
and the ball exploded on Momoshiro's backline with a sharp burst of air pressure!
"Wenren Sword Style—no, Wenren Tennis Style, First Form—Aragami Fang!"
Still crouched in his ready stance, Momoshiro slowly turned to see the ball rolling behind him, his eyes wide in disbelief.
That same stunned expression was mirrored on everyone's faces—even Ryoma, usually calm and aloof, couldn't hide his shock.
"That serve… it had to be at least 195 kilometers per hour! Can a middle schooler really serve like that?"
Without a doubt, Seiya's serve left everyone on court utterly dumbfounded.
They had expected his serve to be strong, sure—but this level of power was absurd!
"30–0!"
"40–0!"
"This game goes to Wenren Seiya. The score is 2–0. Players will now switch sides."
With a serve speed over 195 km/h, Momoshiro stood no chance at all. Seiya easily held serve.
As they switched sides, Momoshiro once again took the serve for the third game. Armed with his earlier experience, he was slowly starting to catch up.
From having no reaction at all, to being able to take a few steps toward the ball, and eventually managing to clip it off the edge of his racket—even if it went out—Momoshiro had improved drastically in just two games.
"Out. Game, Wenren Seiya. The score is 3–0."
Even though he hadn't won a single point, Momoshiro wasn't discouraged.
He was finally managing to hit Seiya's serves, and he was confident that in his next service game, he wouldn't lose points so easily.
In the fourth game, Seiya once again used Aragami Fang and took the game cleanly—4–0.
He still had several other moves he wanted to test, but this was an opponent, not a practice dummy. Seiya didn't want to reveal everything too soon.
He couldn't help but admire players like Momoshiro and Ryoma—first- or second-years with a main-character-like growth rate. Their progress was unreal.
He could tell that he'd been keeping his return speed consistent throughout, yet in just a few short games, Momoshiro had already adapted enough to return one of his shots by the fifth game.
"You really are amazing… to adjust to my speed in just a few games.
But if that's all you can do, then it's still nowhere near enough.
After all, I never said I was just a speed-type player."
He sent Momoshiro's returned ball flying back.
Momoshiro, confident he could handle it, swung—
and froze as a terrifying impact tore through his racket, sending it spinning from his hand.
Another point for Seiya. 5–0.
The final game was Seiya's serve—and given how unstoppable his Aragami Fang was, there was no question how this would end.
Momoshiro, drenched in sweat, could barely stand. Seiya, meanwhile, looked completely at ease.
Just as Seiya tossed up the ball for the last serve, a loud, commanding voice suddenly interrupted.
"Seiya! An! How much longer are you two going to mess around here? Get back with me already!"
There was no mistaking that voice—it was Tachibana Jippei, captain of the Fudomine Tennis Club.
He had originally come looking for his sister on his family's request… only to find this scene unfolding before him.
(End of Chapter)
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