(Author's note: Borrowing a plot point—the last chapter mentioned the opponent as Hyotei, but my brain glitched and wrote Yamabuki instead.)
Night fell.
Yoru and QP took the train home.
Just as Yoru had predicted, QP—having noticed the boosted training effects—spent the entire ride pestering him for an explanation. But Yoru kept deflecting with vague excuses about the "unique training environment."
"So you're saying this training regimen only maximizes its effects under specific conditions?"
"Yeah, yeah, exactly~"
Yoru rubbed his temples. He hadn't expected QP to be this relentless.
Eventually, he managed to shut down the interrogation with some half-baked reasoning.
---
Echizen Residence
Rinko, having been informed of QP's stay in advance, had already prepared a guest room.
After settling in, Yoru and QP headed to the main hall.
Nanjiro was there, sipping tea. "Heard a lot about you from Retter. Finally meeting in person."
"Mr. Echizen."
QP sat formally, his posture stiff, eyes subtly scanning the legendary player before him.
Echizen Nanjiro.
After graduating high school, he'd gone to the U.S. and defeated the then-world No. 1 in a practice match, kickstarting his own mythic career.
By the time he retired, he was on a 37-match winning streak in world opens—one win away from breaking the record and securing his first Grand Slam.
Then, out of nowhere, he quit.
When asked why, Nanjiro had said: "There's no one left in tennis worth beating. I've got a new goal now."
Arrogant? Absolutely.
Yet, not a single pro player disputed it.
That statement cemented his legacy as the only player inducted into the "Legend" category without a Grand Slam.
Rumors claimed he'd reached the realm of Tennis Gods before retiring—and was still improving.
Nanjiro set down his cup. "Retter mentioned you're here to find someone with the Light of Love and Light of Fortitude?"
QP nodded. "My playstyle requires absorbing match experience from those radiances."
Yoru, suddenly curious, cut in: "Old man, is Perfect Harmony a type of Pinnacle of Hard Work, or are they the same thing?"
Honestly, he'd never fully grasped the relationship between the two.
In the original series, Nanjiro had been the only one to achieve Perfect Harmony for 20 years—until Ryoma and Kintarō's generation revived it.
Before meeting QP, Yoru had assumed Pinnacle of Hard Work was just another name for Perfect Harmony.
But after discussing it with QP, he now suspected Perfect Harmony was merely one manifestation—specifically, the Light of Love.
After all, the Light of Love activated when a player "truly embraced the joy of tennis."
If Perfect Harmony equaled Pinnacle of Hard Work, how did the Light of Fortitude and Light of Loneliness fit in?
Nanjiro's answer surprised him.
"Perfect Harmony is another term for Pinnacle of Hard Work. Joy is Love, pushing limits is Loneliness, surpassing them is Fortitude. All are expressions of the same radiance."
Yoru frowned. "Wait, really?"
That didn't align with Nanjiro's explanation in the original series' Nationals finale.
Had Nanjiro only commented on Ryoma's Perfect Harmony (the Light of Love) because that's what he'd witnessed?
Before he could dwell further, QP suddenly spoke up.
"Mr. Echizen… do you possess the Light of Love and Light of Fortitude? Could I experience them?"
PFFT—
Yoru spat out his tea, staring at QP in disbelief.
Are you always this brave?!
Do you have any idea how monstrous this guy is?!
Nanjiro's raw stats alone would send you flying—why are you asking for radiance mode?! Planning your funeral?!
Even Nanjiro's eye twitched. "…Maybe find someone else. What I've got might be too much for you right now."
QP, realizing his blunder, flushed. "Ah—my apologies. That was presumptuous."
---
Over the next week, QP—obsessed with the training boost—threw himself into drills with fanatical intensity.
Yoru had considered adding little Ryoma to the roster, but the system blocked it—Ryoma wasn't officially part of Seigaku's team yet.
One notable incident: Kirihara, itching for a challenge, confronted QP.
The entire club expected an epic showdown.
Instead, Seigaku's second-strongest got stomped—6-0 in under 15 minutes.
QP didn't even use flashy techniques. Just pure, fundamentals-based tennis.
Kirihara couldn't land a single return.
The humiliation lit a fire under him. He began overhauling his Speed Shot series, training like a man possessed.
Before, he'd assumed his techniques were flawless—only failing against freaks like Yoru.
Now? He knew better.
When the gap in raw ability was this vast, technique was his only lifeline.
And as someone who loved tennis, he refused to fall behind.
Yoru, watching the team's progress through the system, was pleased.
---
The Next Day: Tokyo Metropolitan Semifinals
Yoru studied the bracket.
Match 1: Hyotei vs. Seigaku
Match 2: Kamakura Chuu vs. Yamabuki
Right now, Hyotei's biggest threat was Mochizuki Yūdai.
As for the rest of their roster? Yoru wasn't sure. But in the original series, Mochizuki had led Hyotei's middle school team to their first Nationals Top 8—laying the groundwork for Atobe's eventual dynasty.
If Seigaku only had Yoru, Kirihara, and Yamato holding the line, they'd be in trouble.
But with QP here?
Yoru smirked.
This'll be fun.
He was especially eager to face Mochizuki—one of the few mental-specialist prodigies in the series, and a dark horse who'd shine brightest on the world stage.
Most underestimated him due to his U17 ranking.
Big mistake.