Whether it was Inui Sadaharu's Inui Juice, Yanagi Renji's bitter tea, or Mitsuya Akuto's colorful rice balls, their flavors could all be adjusted. However, since the three usually used these things as punishment tools, they naturally made them as intense as possible.
But now was an official match. Mitsuya's rice balls were obviously unsuitable, and Yanagi's bitter tea was mainly for keeping focus. Only Inui's special drink was ideal for physical recovery—hence why Yanagi had asked Inui to take charge.
"Hold on! In your current condition, just a few sips are enough. If you drink too much, it'll have the opposite effect!" Seeing Kirihara about to gulp down the entire bottle, Inui quickly reached out and snatched it away.
Kirihara blinked in confusion, but Inui didn't bother explaining. He simply turned around and went back to the bench. Seeing that, Kirihara could only purse his lips and close his eyes again to rest and recover.
"Be careful in the next set, Henri. It seems both forces inside your opponent have completely awakened. That last shot proved it!" On the Swiss Team's bench, Coach Qin spoke with a grave tone.
"You've noticed something, Coach Qin?" Henri asked immediately, glancing over.
"I can't say for certain, but his strength has clearly broken through to a new level. It's unbelievable, but it's real. So in the next set, stay sharp—don't take any chances," Qin warned him seriously.
"Understood!" Henri replied firmly, his expression tense as he looked across the court.
When the break ended, both players returned to their positions. Kirihara stood at the baseline, picking up a ball. In that instant, Henri's pupils contracted sharply.
Before his eyes, the image of Devil Mode Kirihara appeared once again, standing beside the real one. But the real Kirihara now radiated a holy aura, forming a stark contrast with the crimson demonic shadow beside him.
Henri quickly steadied himself, forcing down his surprise. He fixed his gaze on the devilish illusion, soon noticing something odd. Although the Devil Kirihara looked real, on closer inspection, Henri realized it was a projected image—a kind of special phantom.
'So this is Japan's Alternate Dimension Tennis? It's different from the data I gathered…' Henri thought, his mind analyzing rapidly even as he kept his eyes locked on Kirihara.
While Henri was deep in thought, Kirihara tossed the ball high into the air. At the same moment, the Devil Kirihara mirrored his movements perfectly. For a split second, Henri froze—he couldn't tell which one would actually hit the ball.
The sharp sound of impact broke his hesitation. Relying on his keen tennis sense, Henri read the ball's trajectory and rushed toward the landing point. With a quick backhand, he returned the shot, sending a sharply spinning ball toward Kirihara's open left side.
Both Kiriharas moved in unison to intercept. Two rackets swung through the air together—though one was a phantom, the illusion was so seamless that no one could tell the difference. The next moment, the ball streaked like a flash of light, skimming across the court toward Switzerland's baseline.
"A baseline passing shot, huh? I don't know how you're doing this, but it doesn't change the fact that you're exhausted!" Henri said confidently as he lunged forward and blocked the return.
The rally grew fierce. But soon, Henri realized something was wrong. It truly felt like he was playing against two opponents. No matter how sharp his angles were, one of the Kiriharas always managed to catch the ball.
Even Amadeus, watching from the sidelines, wore a serious expression. With his sharp eyes, he had already figured out what was happening—but even he struggled to believe it. A middle school player from Japan doing something like this? It was almost absurd.
"15–0!"
Henri lost the point, caught off guard, but his mind stayed calm. He knew Kirihara's stamina was already at its limit—there was no way he could sustain this for long.
In the next two rallies, Henri could only defend desperately. Kirihara's state left him no openings to counterattack. Still, humans make mistakes, and Henri eventually failed to hold his ground.
"30–0!"
"40–0!"
"Yeah… this feeling… I finally get it!" Kirihara said excitedly, his voice trembling with energy after scoring three consecutive points.
Right after his words fell, something incredible happened. The phantom of Devil Mode Kirihara began to merge back into his body. A soft white glow surrounded him, and his pupils gradually shifted to a light blue.
"Azure Eye State!"
Henri stared at Kirihara's transformation, an uneasy feeling creeping up his chest. But there was no time to dwell on it—Kirihara had already tossed the ball high into the air.
Just as Henri tried to gauge the landing point, a streak of yellow light flashed past him. By the time he realized what had happened, it was too late—the sound of the ball striking the ground came from behind him, followed by the umpire's voice.
"Game! Japan! 1–0!"
"So he's finally merged the powers of the angel and the demon completely? Now Kirihara won't be forced into defense by spin shots anymore," Akashi said quietly from the bench, the corners of his lips lifting slightly though his tone remained calm.
"It seems he's found his true tennis path," Yukimura said softly, his voice filled with faint emotion.
"That brat… he didn't let all our effort go to waste after all," Sanada said with rare satisfaction, unable to hide a proud smile.
"Neither Ten'i Muhō no Kiwami nor Asura Divine Path… to think he, like Akashi-kun, carved out his own path. Hmph, I really underestimated you," Coach Mifune said, his eyes burning with approval.
On the court, Henri took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. Without hesitation, he tossed up the ball and launched a high-speed diagonal serve. The ball spun viciously as it sped toward Kirihara's back corner.
But the moment Henri served, a flash of white light streaked across his vision. The next thing he heard was the sound of the ball hitting the ground behind him again. Henri froze in disbelief, unable to process what had just happened.
"0–15!"
"This feeling… it's incredible! Right now, even those three wouldn't be my match!" Kirihara shouted, clenching his fists in excitement, completely unaware of the dangerous glances Yukimura, Sanada, and Yanagi were throwing from the sidelines.
After a brief daze, Henri finally understood. His expression grew complicated as he looked at Kirihara. No matter how much he didn't want to admit it, the truth was undeniable—Kirihara's current strength had already surpassed his own.
"Heh… didn't expect things to end up like this. But… you're still going to lose this match," Henri said with a self-mocking smile before his eyes sharpened again with determination.
He served once more, this time sprinting straight for the net the moment the ball left his hand. Kirihara's return was too fast to track, but Henri managed to predict the general direction in time.
He swung his racket decisively. However, the instant the ball met the strings, a massive impact shot through Henri's arm. It felt as though the ball weighed a thousand kilos, the shock numbing his wrist instantly.
He gritted his teeth, struggling to hold on, but the force was overwhelming. The racket flew out of his hand as the ball slammed into the ground and bounced out of bounds, leaving Henri clutching his wrist in pain.
"0–30!"
From that point on, Kirihara went full throttle. Empowered by his Azure Eye State, his strength, speed, and technique all completely overpowered Henri. The match turned one-sided in an instant.
"Game! Japan! 2–0!"
"Game! Japan! 3–0!"
"Game! Japan! 4–0!"
In the stands, the middle schoolers from Japan were already cheering wildly. To them, victory was guaranteed. Horio from Seigaku even raised his arms in triumph, boldly declaring it won.
The fifth game was Kirihara's service game. He stepped to the baseline, tossed the ball into the air—and just as he was about to swing, his vision suddenly went black. His consciousness blurred in an instant.
The ball dropped limply to the ground as Kirihara's body swayed and collapsed forward. Almost every member of Japan's team jumped to their feet, while the umpire quickly called for a timeout.
Sanada was the first to rush onto the court. When he turned Kirihara over, his face went pale—Kirihara's face was completely drained of color. His heart sank instantly. Medical staff hurried over, beginning an emergency examination.
The medics soon confirmed the situation—it was a severe fainting episode caused by total exhaustion. He needed immediate rest and ideally an injection of glucose for energy recovery, but tournament rules forbade any medical injections mid-match.
After hearing the preliminary diagnosis, Coach Mifune let out a long sigh. He could only have Kirihara carried back to the bench to rest. Whether he could continue would depend on fate.
The stadium fell into silence. Even the Swiss players stood quietly, waiting. Time passed slowly in the heavy stillness. When the chief umpire checked his watch, he glanced toward Japan's bench with a questioning look.
Mifune shook his head grimly. The special timeout had expired, and Kirihara still hadn't regained consciousness. There was nothing more to be done. A second later, the umpire's voice echoed across the court.
"Due to the Japanese player being unable to continue, the third set is concluded! Winner: Switzerland! Overall score, 2–1!"