"6–0. Match over. Winner: Yoru-senpai!"
The entire match took less than ten minutes—hardly a warm-up, even for Tezuka.
Yoru's expression darkened. "Sanada. Come here."
At his tone, Sanada flinched.
He shuffled forward like a scolded child, shoulders hunched.
Watching this pitiful display, Yoru's eye twitched. Is Yukimura really that vital to his mental state?
Because of Yoru's interference, Yukimura had left for treatment early—leaving Sanada to spiral alone after his crushing JR Finals defeat.
Now, the future "Emperor" was a shell of himself.
If this keeps up, he won't even qualify as a mid-tier boss for Ryōma to grind on.
Still, Yoru understood.
Sanada's breakdown came from one thing: overwhelming fear of the gap between them.
During the JR Finals, he'd assumed Sanada had already developed all four "Fūrinkazan" techniques. Turns out, only "Wind" and "Forest" existed so far.
"Boosting 'Speed of Wind' isn't complicated," Yoru said coldly. "It's about balancing kendō and tennis."
"Balancing…?"
Sanada's head lifted slightly, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
Yoru nodded. "Tennis is tennis. Kendō is kendō. You can borrow stance and power mechanics from kendō to enhance your shots—but you can't replace tennis fundamentals with sword swings."
"The basics exist because generations of geniuses refined them. You don't just toss them aside."
"That whole 'perfect fusion' idea is nonsense. Techniques—and people—exist to serve the fundamentals, not the other way around. Even Tezuka's 'Zero-Shiki' follows that rule."
"If you insist on forcing tennis into a kendō mold, quit now. Stick to swords."
Initially, Yoru had assumed kendō was the core of Fūrinkazan.
But after copying "Speed of Wind" and upgrading it to Lv. 8, he realized Sanada's entire foundation was flawed.
The kid was treating tennis like a sword duel.
"So that's…"
Sanada's breath hitched.
Suddenly, it made sense—why Yoru's identical stance produced such drastically stronger results.
Beyond raw stats, the key difference was simple:
Yoru used standard tennis form, merely enhanced by kendō mechanics.
That "perfect fusion" Sanada had chased? A fantasy.
"Thank you, senpai." Sanada bowed deeply, voice thick with emotion.
Yoru sighed, side-eyeing the gesture. Feels like I'm at a funeral.
"Also," he added, "your family's kendō principles originate from Sun Tzu's The Art of War, right?"
"'Move swift as the wind, steady as the forest, fierce as fire, immovable as a mountain.' You've got 'Wind' and 'Forest' down. Any ideas for the rest?"
Time to buff Sanada's growth—future Ryōma would need the EXP.
Sanada hesitated, then shook his head.
He'd planned to develop the remaining techniques with Yukimura post-JR Finals. But with Yukimura hospitalized, progress had stalled.
"Then here's a tip," Yoru said.
"'Fierce as Fire'—symbolizes relentless offense. Focus on smashes.
"'Immovable as Mountain'—unshakable defense. Build a total guard stance.
"'Unfathomable as Shadow'…"
---
By dusk, Yoru had practically spoon-fed Sanada the entire Fūrinkazan development path from the original timeline.
Every detail. Every nuance.
Can't have our mid-tier boss underleveled.
The speech left Sanada awestruck. Even Tezuka's usual stoicism cracked, replaced by naked admiration.
"Talent, huh…" Q.P. muttered in German, sighing.
After weeks in Japan, he'd picked up enough Japanese to follow Yoru's lecture.
It was equal parts inspiring and depressing.
Living together, Q.P. knew Yoru trained just two hours daily—slacking off the rest of the time. Yet his growth was exponential.
No explanation but sheer天赋 (tiānfù)—"innate talent."
And compared to that, even Q.P.'s gifts felt… inadequate.
"Alright, kids. Time to go."
Yoru glanced at the darkening sky. Not out of concern for their safety—he just didn't want to miss dinner.
"Yes!"
Sanada bowed again, deeper this time—genuine reverence in the motion.
Yoru turned away, grimacing. Still looks like a damn funeral.
Tezuka, unusually hesitant, spoke up: "Yoru-senpai… May we accompany your team to future Kantō matches?"
"Sure."
That's it? Yoru almost laughed. As long as they didn't ask him to fight Nanjirō, anything was fine.
---
After the duo left, Q.P. approached.
"Yoru. You can copy and perfect techniques, correct?"
"Yep." No point denying it—he'd stopped hiding the ability after realizing how broken it was.
"Then… my playstyle. Did you copy that too?"
"Nah." Yoru shook his head. "Copying has limits—just techniques, not entire styles."
天赋绑定 (tiānfù bǎngdìng)—"talent binding"—was his cheat code.
But he wasn't lying. When Oni Jūjirō activated "Pinnacle of Perfection", the system hadn't triggered.
State-based abilities seemed uncopyable.
Honestly, Yanagi Renji's "Illusion" is scarier. Dude even mimicked "Zone" states by understanding his targets' mindsets.
No wonder he was an MVP candidate post-time-skip.
Q.P. accepted the answer without pushback. Since absorbing "Pinnacle of Wisdom", he trusted Yoru implicitly.
Besides—what reason was there to lie?
"Alright, wrap it up!"
Yoru grabbed the PA mic. "ASSEMBLE!"
The bellow echoed across the courts. Within minutes, the entire club gathered at Court 1.
"Tomorrow's the Kantō Tournament draw. I'll take Q.P., Ōishi, and Kirihara to Rikkai for it."
"While I'm gone, train properly. No slacking."
"YES, SENPAI!"
The roar was unanimous. After the last purge, the club ran smoothly even in Yoru's absence.
---
Meanwhile, atop the school building…
An elderly figure gazed wistfully at the courts below.
After a long silence, he picked up a pen and wrote two words on a sheet of paper:
"Letter of Resignation."
---