WebNovels

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: Two Years in a Flash—Still Only Seeing Tail Lights  

Dinner. 

Despite losing the match, Ryoma wasn't discouraged. If anything, he was excitedly recounting the game at the table, finishing with a determined declaration: 

"I'll definitely surpass Nii-san one day!" 

After the meal, Nanjirou pulled Yoru aside into the yard, leaving Ryoma to train on his own. 

"Kid," Nanjirou began, "you've got insane talent. So why won't you train seriously?" 

"Tennis is the most popular sport in the world. Don't you want to stand at the top, admired by everyone?" 

"I do." 

Yoru didn't hesitate. "Uncle, I know what you're getting at. I'll train at least two hours a day from now on. But the rest of the time… can I manage it myself?" 

Nanjirou frowned, silent for a long moment before sighing. "If you don't want to train, forcing you won't help. Fine. Do as you please." 

He'd meant to scold him. 

But Yoru's absurd progress left him with no real argument. 

Nanjirou wasn't unreasonable. Some loved tennis; some didn't. Maybe Yoru did like it—but no amount of lecturing would change his habits. 

Sometimes, life has to teach the lesson. 

Once Yoru hit a wall, then he'd train seriously. 

Seemingly reading his thoughts, Yoru grinned. "Uncle, how about this? Test me periodically. If I don't meet your expectations, I'll increase my training time. Deal?" 

"Oh?" Nanjirou raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

For once, Nanjirou was at a loss for words. 

That confident smirk… 

"Talent matters more than effort, sure. But without effort, talent means nothing," he grumbled. 

Yoru didn't argue. He just met Nanjirou's gaze steadily. 

Finally, Nanjirou relented. "Fine. Weekly checks. Fall short, and your training doubles." 

"Heh. Trust me." 

 

Yoru returned to his room to continue slacking. 

Meanwhile, Nanjirou walked back to the court, where Ryoma was still drilling basics tirelessly. 

At this age, Ryoma wasn't the brash, rebellious teen he'd become. Just a kid who loved tennis—too much to ever feel tired. 

Nanjirou had once said: Everyone starts tennis in a state of pure, untainted passion—Samurai's Aura. 

That sheer love for the game accelerates growth, keeping players at their peak. 

And Ryoma? 

He was living in that state—what QP would later call "Pinnacle of Hard Work." 

Watching him train with a smile, Nanjirou felt a little better. "Ryoma, break time." 

Wiping sweat from his brow, Ryoma trotted over. 

"Ryoma," Nanjirou asked, "how strong is your brother?" 

"Nii-san's amazing!" Ryoma's eyes sparkled. "He just started, but he beats me so easily! I've gotta get stronger!" 

Not a trace of frustration—just excitement. 

Nanjirou smirked. "Good. Train hard, catch up, and crush him someday." 

"Yeah!" 

"Dad, I'm going back to practice!" 

With that, Ryoma grabbed his racket and resumed wall drills, the rhythmic thwacks echoing through the temple. 

Meanwhile, Yoru was already snoring in bed. 

 

Time flew. 

Two years passed. 

In that time, Ryoma realized something: No matter how much I improve… Nii-san's always ahead. 

At first, he could at least see the gap. Now? It felt like he was still just seeing tail lights—as if he hadn't improved at all. 

The worst part? 

Yoru trained two hours a day. 

Ryoma? Six hours minimum. 

If not for Nanjirou's strict limits, he'd have spent every waking moment on tennis. 

Yoru, though? 

Blissfully lazy. 

Sunbathing, napping, never standing when he could sit, never sitting when he could lie down. 

His slacker attitude drove Nanjirou up the wall. 

But every time he tried to lecture him… 

Yoru was flawless. 

No—better than flawless. 

Between the system's boosts and what might've been his reincarnated mind, Yoru was a monster. 

Photographic memory. Genius-level comprehension. Self-taught middle school curriculum while still in elementary. 

Even Nanjirou—hailed as Asia's once-in-a-century talent—sometimes felt inferior next to him. 

And the system's feedback? Comprehensive. 

Take the Five Stats (Power, Speed, Stamina, Technique, Mental). 

Ryoma's stats weren't evenly distributed—his Speed, Technique, and Mental were higher. 

But the system? It perfected everything. 

All stats balanced. All fundamentals refined. 

Eventually, Nanjirou gave up trying to "fix" Yoru. 

 

Lazily watching Ryoma train, Yoru muttered: 

"System. Open stats." 

[Host]: Yoru 

[Age]: 8 

[Techniques]: 

Five Stats (Lv. 5) Tennis Fundamentals (Lv. 5) Twist Serve (Lv. 5) Two-Sword Style (Lv. 5) 

[Talent]: ... 

[Power Level]: 7 Stars 

"Pretty high, huh?" 

At first, he'd thought so too. 

Then the system's appraisal function revealed Nanjirou's 20-Star Power Level. 

Yeah. No ego left after that. 

Still, compared to Ryoma's measly 3 Stars, Yoru was disgustingly strong. 

Though lately, his growth had slowed—likely due to Ryoma hitting a physical ceiling. 

A fever Ryoma had half a year ago did trigger a noticeable spike, confirming Yoru's theory: Growth spurts matter. 

But he wasn't worried. 

He was only 8. 

Once Ryoma hit puberty, the system claimed the "physical restraints" would loosen. 

By the time Ryoma reached his canon strength (post-defeating Ryoga), Yoru should be strong enough to beat Nanjirou. 

A future where he'd stand at the pinnacle of tennis—without lifting a finger? 

This… 

This is… 

The dream. 

Just as Yoru was basking in laziness, Nanjirou and Rinko walked into the backyard. 

"Yoru, Ryoma—pack your bags." 

Yoru blinked, especially at Rinko's tense expression. "Pack? For where?" 

"After summer break, you're transferring to a school in America." 

America? 

Yoru froze—then, piecing together Rinko's mood, understood. 

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