At the same time, on the Japan team's bench, Mifune looked at the two players rehydrating and suddenly barked, "Hey! This is already the knockout stage, and your opponents are the world's number three team! So give it everything you've got and win this damn match—both in tennis and in looks!"
"Spare me~ those two aren't exactly easy opponents," Omagari said helplessly, though there was a strange gleam in his eyes.
"Give it everything, huh…" Yukimura glanced back at Tezuka and replied thoughtfully.
The short two-minute break ended quickly. Yukimura and Omagari returned to the court, only to realize that the French pair's eyes and aura had changed dramatically.
The seventh game was Timothée's serve. He walked to the baseline, raised his arms, and began with a graceful ballet opening. In the middle of the dance, he tossed the tennis ball skyward.
"Ace! 15–0!"
Omagari froze, staring at the ball now rolling outside the court. He hadn't even noticed when Timothée struck the serve. It was unbelievable.
Timothée lifted both arms, revealing his perfect abs, and the crowd erupted. Screams filled the air, and countless girls' eyes turned into hearts.
"Actually, among the French team, Moreau's style is the closest to Camus's. Be careful not to fall for his dance," Tristan said playfully toward Omagari.
"So, you've finally accepted what's in your heart? Looks like your inner revolution is about to succeed~" Camus chuckled approvingly from the bench.
Timothée began another ballet routine at the baseline, his slender frame gliding like a swan, radiating elegance—and hidden beneath that beauty, a deadly serve.
This time Omagari focused hard, yet he only caught a faint yellow blur. By the time he reacted, the ball had already struck the baseline and skimmed past his racket tip.
"Ace! 30–0!"
"Hey, come on~ that's cheating! What the hell was that weird feeling just now?" Omagari muttered, watching the ball fly by with a wry smile.
"I've got a rough idea," Yukimura said seriously, "but I'll need to test it myself to be sure."
"Then I'm counting on you, Yukimura-kun~" Omagari replied, his usual teasing tone replaced with tension as he nodded firmly.
Timothée struck another pose, and the crowd roared even louder. It almost felt like a home crowd now—girls from other countries were even swooning.
"That ballet move Timothée just did has a 3.4 percent deviation from the standard form, but somehow it has a subtle, mesmerizing beauty," Mitsuya murmured, frowning from the Japan bench.
"That's psychological suggestion. A form of hypnosis," Akashi said, his Emperor Eye glowing faintly gold. The Omniscient Star of his Alternate Dimension ability activated, instantly revealing the mechanism behind the serve.
As Akashi spoke, Timothée served again. Even though Yukimura surrounded himself with mental energy, the dance still caught his attention for a split second. He barely managed to return the ball—but it hit the net.
"Ace! 40–0!"
"Just as I thought… the key lies in the dance," Yukimura muttered. A flash of clarity crossed his eyes. Mental energy began flowing through his mind, and his pupils slowly lost focus.
"Zero Senses Tennis!"
When Timothée served again, Yukimura wasn't affected in the slightest. He instantly appeared at the landing point, whipping his racket in a sharp right-hand swing. The ball shot toward the deep right corner of the French court.
Timothée was momentarily surprised, but Tristan quickly moved across the front, switching his racket to his right hand and intercepting Yukimura's return. He countered with a powerful drive.
Omagari stepped up, his left-hand racket snapping out from behind to block the shot at an unexpected angle. But Timothée was already at the net. Standing on one toe, his body spun gracefully on the spot.
With a crisp impact, the ball cut past Omagari's right side mid-spin. By the time he reacted, it was too late. Fortunately, Yukimura appeared in front of the ball and sliced it with a clean backhand toward the open left side of Tristan's court.
Tristan turned sharply and chased the ball, but Timothée suddenly appeared in its path, blocking it. Omagari focused entirely on the ball, forcing himself not to look at Timothée's movements.
Yet Timothée didn't hit immediately. Instead, he lifted his right leg high. The ball passed by his side—and from behind him, Tristan intercepted it, firing a lightning-fast crosscourt shot.
By the time Omagari realized he'd been tricked, it was already too late. The ball struck the left sideline and bounced out of play. Even Yukimura couldn't reach it in time.
"Game! France! 5–2!"
After the French team took the seventh game, the stadium erupted in cheers from everyone except the Japan supporters. Most of the crowd had come to see the French team play, and their bias was clear.
"Yare yare~ looks like we got completely played, huh?" Omagari scratched his head, though his eyes had sharpened with determination.
"Don't worry, Omagari-senpai. Even though we dropped that game, the setup is complete," Yukimura's calm voice came from behind him.
The eighth game was Yukimura's serve. He had recovered from his Zero Senses Tennis state, but faint blue lightning now flickered in his eyes, and his aura began to surge violently.
"ZONE!"
Tristan immediately sensed the shift in Yukimura's aura. Though more alert, he didn't panic—after all, it was natural for a player to unleash their full strength at this stage of the match.
But in the next instant, a yellow blur streaked past Tristan's eyes, followed by the sharp thud of a ball landing behind him. Before he could even process what happened, the umpire's voice echoed.
"Ace! 15–0!"
Yukimura's expression stayed perfectly calm as he picked up another ball. Glancing briefly at the stunned Tristan across the net, he tossed the ball high—and two nearly simultaneous impact sounds rang out. The ball once again whizzed past Tristan and bounced out of bounds.
"Ace! 30–0!"
"Yukimura's five-dimensional stats seem to have improved since his match against Oni-senpai," Inui said suddenly, flipping through his notebook.
"No… this isn't just ZONE," Yanagi replied, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Something else is changing within him."
"Hey! Look at the speed radar—is that a malfunction!?" Kirihara's shout drew everyone's attention to the display board. The screen showed the speed of Yukimura's last serve—281 km/h!
"Unbelievable~ he actually pushed his serve speed this far. You've already surpassed your limit, Shuji-kun," Irie said with amused admiration, eyes glittering with curiosity.
"That's fine by me. But I'd really like to know what Ochi thinks of it," Tanegashima replied casually, not at all bothered that his own record had been broken. He grinned as he looked over at Ochi.
Ochi remained expressionless, seemingly unmoved, while Mōri beside him kept pestering him with questions that received no answer.
While everyone discussed the serve speed, Akashi's sharp gaze fixed on Yukimura. He could faintly see a divine radiance surrounding him—an ethereal glow that shimmered like light itself.
Timothée focused all his attention on the serve, but the result was the same as Tristan's. The ball flashed past before he could react, hitting the ground and bouncing out.
"Ace! 40–0!"
When Yukimura tossed up his fourth serve, Timothée suddenly shut his eyes and expanded his senses to the extreme. He was trying to rely purely on instinct to counter the serve.
The ball smashed into the ground to his right, and Timothée followed his intuition, diving that way. Miraculously, his racket caught the ball, though the rebound sent it soaring high across the court.
Yukimura's body left a trail of afterimages as he moved like teleportation, appearing at the net in an instant. Without hesitation, he leapt high into the air, swinging his racket down with explosive force toward the descending ball.
Tristan started forward to block, but suddenly froze. His eyes widened in awe as he gazed at Yukimura's descending form—behind him shimmered a towering, radiant figure, both divine and majestic.
"Is that… a god?" Tristan murmured, almost unconsciously.
"Game! 6–2! First set complete! Winner, Japan! Overall score, 1–0!"