"Hehe!!"
As the last middle schooler to take the court, Kintarō carried none of the pressure expected of a final player. Grinning from ear to ear, he bounced onto the court with uncontainable excitement.
"This kid..."
His opponent, Udon, frowned slightly.
After witnessing the strength of the other middle schoolers, he wasn't about to underestimate anyone from the "losers' group."
More importantly—
This red-haired brat had clearly been handpicked by Oni specifically for him. And when it came to Oni, the former strongest player of U-17, a man feared as the "Gatekeeper of Hell," no amount of caution was excessive.
But as they met at the net, Udon's frown deepened.
The kid's small frame ruled out the possibility of him being a power player. And with that height, he didn't seem like a speedster either.
"If he's neither power nor speed..."
Udon narrowed his eyes. "Then he must be a technical player."
Ironically, Udon himself was a technical player. To him, this wasn't a coincidence—it was deliberate. Oni's plan was obvious: to use him, Udon Watanabe, as a whetstone for this kid.
"Whatever you're plotting..."
He shot a glance at Oni before hardening his expression. "I won't lose this match."
As the leader of Court 2, with strength rivaling the lower ranks of the top 20, Udon had absolute confidence in himself.
"Kid."
He waved dismissively. "Let's begin. Show me what you've got."
"Sure!"
Kintarō grinned and nodded eagerly.
Under the watchful eyes of both middle schoolers and high schoolers, the two retreated to their baselines.
"Match start, best of one set!"
The U-17 official in the umpire's chair announced, "Tōyama to serve!"
"Hehe."
Kintarō cheerfully pulled out a tennis ball and began bouncing it—fast, erratic, and completely unrefined. To Udon, a player trained in orthodox techniques and risen to lead Court 2, everything about it was wrong.
"His ball control is terrible."
"He doesn't look like a tennis player at all."
"At this rate, his first serve might not even clear the net."
The more Udon watched, the more baffled he became.
Yet this was the player Oni had specifically chosen for him. If the Gatekeeper of Hell had approved of him, his skill was undeniable.
"Is he mocking me?"
Dismissing the unlikely thought, Udon shook his head and settled into his return stance. "Whatever. Whether he's strong or weak, the outcome won't change."
Tap!
Kintarō caught the ball mid-bounce.
"Alright, time to get serious."
The moment the ball rested in his palm, the boy's demeanor transformed. His carefree, innocent expression sharpened into focus. His amber eyes gleamed with a predator's intensity—so much so that Udon felt an instinctive chill, as if he were facing not a boy, but a hawk poised to strike.
Whoosh!
Kintarō tossed the ball high.
Then, with an explosive leap that stunned the high schoolers, he swung down with a thunderous smash.
BANG!
The sound was deafening.
The ball shot forward like a cannonball, hurtling toward the court with terrifying speed.
"This serve?!"
Udon's eyes widened. The entire motion—toss, jump, smash—was so fast it nearly bypassed his reflexes.
Fortunately, his trained instincts kicked in.
Swish!
He lunged right, raising his racket just in time.
THUD!
The impact rattled his arms.
"This power?!"
Udon's confidence shattered. His grip nearly failed him as the ball threatened to tear through his strings.
Without hesitation, he gripped the racket with both hands, barely managing to return it.
"He got it?!"
Kintarō blinked, then beamed. "AWESOME!!"
Tap-tap-tap!
In a flash, he dashed forward—so fast that the Court 2 high schoolers only saw a blur.
"That speed?!"
Udon's face paled.
He had been wrong. This short kid wasn't just monstrously strong—he was fast.
CRACK!
Kintarō caught up to the ball and fired it back.
"Tch."
Udon gritted his teeth.
He hated to admit it, but the pressure was real.
Still, as Court 2's leader, he wasn't about to back down. He sprinted forward, adjusted his grip, and sliced a sharp return toward Kintarō's backhand corner.
"Nice, nice!"
Instead of panicking, Kintarō grinned wider. "You're really something, old-timer! Guess I'll stop holding back!"
"What?!"
Udon's stomach dropped.
"Don't tell me he wasn't even trying with that serve?"
"No way!"
He shook off the absurd thought and steeled himself.
"Kid, don't get cocky!"
Udon's eyes burned with resolve. If this brat wanted to play, he'd teach him a lesson.
BAM!
But when he returned the next shot, even with both hands, the sheer force nearly ripped the racket from his grip.
"HRRGH!"
He roared, mustering all his strength to send it back.
"Here I come!"
Kintarō charged forward, his movements now resembling a pouncing tiger more than a boy.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The rally was brutal.
Udon was completely outmatched.
"No way..."
A Court 2 high schooler trembled. "Udon's getting crushed?!"
The others were just as stunned.
This was Udon Watanabe—one of the few players entrusted with leading a court. How could a middle schooler dominate him like this?
Yet the evidence was undeniable.
Udon scrambled desperately, barely keeping up.
SMASH!
Finally, Kintarō broke through, blasting a winner past him.
"15-0!"
Silence fell over the court.
The Court 2 players who had previously lost to the middle schoolers now stared at the red-haired boy with awe—and fear.
"Impressive."
Outside the court, Inui smiled. "Kintarō's power and speed have improved this much?"
He glanced at Oni, who remained stoic but inwardly swelled with pride. Over the past month, he had personally trained Kintarō, pushing him harder than anyone else—even calling him out for extra sessions while others rested.
At first, the high schoolers (led by Sasabe) had mocked Kintarō, calling him unlucky.
But as time passed, even the densest among them realized—Oni wasn't punishing him. He was grooming him.
And now, after a month of relentless training, the boy who had once lagged behind Ryoma had caught up.
Oni had even borrowed Coach Mikoto's hawk and wolf, using the beasts' ferocity to hone Kintarō's natural instincts.
THUD!
The ball landed at Udon's feet, but he didn't move.
There was no point.
He had already lost three straight points, and his hands still stung from the earlier exchanges.
"Game!"
"Tōyama leads, 1-0! Change sides!"
"Tōyama Kintarō..."
Udon repeated the name silently, his gaze sharpening.
This boy was the toughest opponent he had ever faced.
If he didn't pull out everything he had, he'd become Court 2's laughingstock.
BOOM!
The second game began with Udon going all out.
His serve carried extreme spin, and he immediately sprinted to the far left—leaving his right side wide open.
"Huh?"
Hiyoshi and Momoshiro exchanged confused glances. "Isn't that just asking for trouble?"
"Oh?"
Kintarō noticed it too and smirked. "Alright, old-timer, if you're giving me an opening, I'll take it!"
BAM!
He fired a shot straight to Udon's right.
But just before it landed, the ball curved mid-air, veering back toward Udon.
"Is that...?"
The middle schoolers gasped. "The Zone?!"
It looked identical to the technique used by Ishikawa (from Hyōtei) and Tezuka (from Seigaku).
"No."
Dry shook his head. "The ball curved left, not center. The spin mechanics are different."
"He did it!"
The Court 2 high schoolers erupted. "The Right-End Saber!"
"Yes!"
"Udon's finally serious!"
"This match is over!"
They sighed in relief.
With this technique, Udon was practically invincible—short of the top 20 stepping in. And with his experience, he could handle any power gap.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Sure enough, Kintarō's attacks kept coming back. Freeing his full strength, Udon used expert deflection and his Right-End Saber to seize control.
"Whoa!"
"Whoa!"
But instead of panicking, Kintarō's eyes sparkled with excitement.
"This kid... isn't normal."
Udon's frown returned.
Still, he didn't let up, piling on the pressure and racking up points.
BAM!
"Game!"
"Udon, 1-1!"
BOOM!
"Game!"
"Udon, 2-1! Change sides!"
BAM!
"Game!"
"Udon, 3-1!"
Three straight games.
The high schoolers' morale soared.
Even Udon relaxed slightly.
He had weathered the storm.
"To earn Oni's favor, your talent must be exceptional."
He studied the red-haired boy across the net. "But talent alone isn't enough."
Perhaps this was Oni's true goal—to use him to teach this kid a harsh lesson.
"Kintarō!"
A voice rang out from the sidelines. It was Ryoma. "You're playing around too much."
"Huh?"
Kintarō blinked, then glanced at the scoreboard. His grin faded. "Oh... I lost that many points?"
"This brat..."
Udon's eye twitched.
Whether the kid was masking fear or genuinely treating this as a game, it was insulting.
"If you want to play, I'll play hard."
His grip tightened. He'd make sure Kintarō understood the difference between them.
But then—
VIBRATION.
Kintarō's aura shifted.
A razor-sharp, wolf-like ferocity erupted from his small frame.
And for the first time, Udon felt true, primal fear.
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