"Swift as the wind!"
Sanada's arm blurred as he struck the ball.
The shot streaked across the court, landing sharply in the outer corner.
Yoru effortlessly returned it—using "Swift as the Wind" as well.
Though holding back, his shot was still too fast for Sanada to handle.
Thud!
The ball clipped the baseline and flew out of bounds.
"You've improved a lot. Raise your racket arm higher—it'll give you better leverage and more speed."
With Swift as the Wind mastered at Lv. 12, Yoru could instantly spot the flaws in Sanada's Lv. 6 technique.
The move borrowed from kendo mechanics, but it still needed to blend with fundamental serving form. A slight adjustment in posture could make a huge difference.
"Yes!"
Sanada barked his acknowledgment and served again.
A quick learner, he adjusted his stance as instructed—and immediately, his shot gained speed.
Thud!
Yoru returned it casually, no special techniques, minimal power.
Sanada sprinted to intercept, but—
"Your footwork's too wide. You can't stabilize fast enough, so your returns suffer."
"Shorten your steps, increase your frequency."
With Lv. 14 fundamentals, Yoru could dissect Sanada's weaknesses effortlessly.
Tennis demanded precise footwork.
In the original story, Ryōma had beaten Inui using "Single-Foot Split Step"—not just to disrupt data tennis, but also to minimize momentum and enable quicker counters.
For a speed-focused player like Sanada, movement and timing were critical.
"Yes!"
Sanada prepared to strike—
But the ball's spin was fierce. Instinctively, he switched to "Slow as the Forest"—a heavy slice that neutralized spin.
Yoru copied it instantly.
[You have copied "Slow as the Forest (Lv. 6)" — Feedback multiplier active! Obtained "Slow as the Forest (Lv. 8)"]
[Due to your base stats, "Slow as the Forest" has been elevated to Lv. 12!]
The knowledge flooded his mind, mastered in an instant.
"Your backswing's too big. You're overcommitting. Fix those two things."
Then—he lobbed high, baiting Sanada into "Fierce as Fire."
Finally, he ramped up the pressure, forcing Sanada into "Immovable as the Mountain"—pure defense.
Within minutes, Yoru had copied the remaining "Fire" and "Mountain," identified their flaws, and refined Sanada's execution.
Truthfully, Sanada was already skilled—just needed minor tweaks.
At 12, his body was entering its growth spurt. His Lv. 6 stats would soon shatter.
"Incredible..."
Yukimura watched in awe.
Yoru had pinpointed Sanada's weaknesses the moment he used a technique.
Six games. Twenty-four points.
Sanada hadn't scored once—but the match had sharpened him drastically. His movements flowed smoother, transitions tighter.
"Game, 6-0!"
Yoru rested his racket on his shoulder.
Across the net, Sanada knelt, drenched in sweat, panting—but his eyes burned with excitement.
He could feel his progress. Coming to Yoru had been the right call.
"Yukimura, you're up."
"Yes!"
Already warmed up, Yukimura stepped onto the court eagerly.
Thud!
The match began.
They rallied for a long time—yet Yoru felt nothing unusual. Strangely, no prompt to copy "Yips" appeared.
As he returned shots, Yoru recalled the lore behind Yukimura's ability.
At its core, "Yips" (五感剥奪) wasn't a technique.
Originally, it was implied to be a psychological effect—using speed, spin, and relentless precision to induce "yips" (a real-life sports phenomenon where athletes suddenly lose control).
Later, it was clarified:
Yukimura's "perfect tennis" forced opponents into a mental trap.
Every shot was returned flawlessly, no matter how impossible. Over time, the opponent's mind became haunted by the certainty of defeat—until their body literally shut down, mimicking sensory deprivation.
It wasn't an active skill.
It was the result of Yukimura's oppressive playstyle.
Even in losing situations (like against Tōzuka at the World Stage), he could trigger it—because the memory of his returns had already been seared into his opponent's mind.
Only unshakable mental fortitude could resist.
(Which was why Tōzuka eventually broke free after his coach's pep talk.)
But Yoru?
He felt nothing.
Their gap in stats was too vast. Yukimura's pressure couldn't reach him.
Thud!
A slight increase in power—
The ball bounced past Yukimura, sealing another 6-0.
Drenched in sweat, Yukimura panted—but listened intently as Yoru spoke.
"Your playstyle's already polished. Just keep grinding your fundamentals."
"If you want to induce Yips faster, amplify the mental strain. Force low returns—make opponents crouch constantly. Increase their physical and mental fatigue."
Yukimura's eyes lit up.
He hadn't considered that approach.
In many ways, Yukimura was a mini-QP—just with a psychological edge.
"By the way," Yoru added, "you're starting middle school this year, right? Any plans on where to go?"
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