"15–0, Kunimitsu Tezuka scores!"
Sanada's heart sank.
He knew his last serve hadn't landed in the best spot. There was a chance Tezuka could return it—but he never expected it to be this effortless.
Not only did Tezuka return it with ease, he countered with a sharp inside angle drive, placing the ball so close to the net that Sanada had no room to retaliate.
At that speed…
Even if the trajectory was straightforward, an ordinary player wouldn't have such precise control.
"This guy…!"
Even Yukimura, who immediately grasped the skill behind the shot, couldn't hide his shock.
The crowd erupted in gasps.
"Whoa! That serve was so fast—I barely saw it land!"
"But the real monster is that kid! Not only did he return it, he made it even more ruthless!"
"Incredible!"
While the audience praised Sanada's serve, they were even more impressed by Tezuka's return.
Both players were strong, but Tezuka was clearly on another level.
"Tezuka's nerves of steel… To pull off an inside angle drive in that situation? He's a genius."
Yamato couldn't help but admire him.
If he had been the one facing Sanada's serve, he might've managed a return—but never something that precise.
"Kunimitsu's ball control surpasses even mine. It's not just boldness—it's pure confidence."
Kirihara, too, was in awe.
In terms of control, only their club's captain could rival Tezuka.
And considering Tezuka was still in elementary school… His future potential was terrifying.
"Damn it…!"
Sanada's jaw clenched.
The pressure was crushing, but what angered him more was Tezuka's calm demeanor—as if scoring against him was nothing.
THWACK!
Fueled by frustration, Sanada served again.
A standard flat serve—still fast, but noticeably slower than before.
He wasn't stupid.
If his high-risk, high-reward technique had been effortlessly countered, there was no point in repeating it. That would only hand Tezuka more opportunities.
"So he's abandoning that serve," Kirihara murmured.
THWACK!
Tezuka fired back with another inside angle drive, the ball landing ruthlessly close to the line.
This time, Sanada was ready.
He sprinted to the sideline, chasing the ball before it could fly out of bounds.
And then—his stance shifted into that unusual form again.
"Try returning… THIS!"
His arm became a blur as he whipped the racket forward.
"Fūrin Kazan—Swifter Than the Wind!"
The ball tore through the net at blinding speed—almost as fast as his previous serve.
But here's the thing:
A return at that speed was far more terrifying than a serve.
With a serve, the opponent has time to prepare. A return? Instantaneous. Minimal reaction time.
Too fast!
Tezuka's brow furrowed as he lunged sideways, swinging his racket in a desperate intercept—
TAP!
The ball grazed the frame and flew out of bounds.
"Sanada Genichirō scores! 15–15!"
He'd won the point—but Sanada felt no joy.
Instead, he stood frozen, his face pale.
Yukimura, watching from the stands, tensed.
Swifter Than the Wind.
A technique born from kendō's rapid sword strikes—impossibly fast, unpredictable, and deadly.
Even Yukimura had to take it seriously.
Yet Tezuka had reacted to it on his first encounter.
He hadn't returned it cleanly, but he'd touched it.
A few more tries, and he'd master the counter.
"How…? Just who is this guy?!"
Sanada dribbled the ball absently, his mind reeling.
His Swifter Than the Wind had been flawless—speed, angle, everything.
How had Tezuka adjusted so quickly?
"Yesterday's match helped Tezuka a lot."
Yoru absentmindedly rubbed his smooth chin.
Normally, even with Tezuka's talent, reacting to Swifter Than the Wind on the first try would've been impossible.
But after being pushed to his limits by Kirihara's speed yesterday, today's match felt almost… routine.
Tezuka was stronger than Sanada.
Their raw stats might be similar, but Tezuka's hidden potential and fundamentals were superior.
"SWIFTER THAN THE WIND!"
Sanada's roar snapped Yoru out of his thoughts.
On the court, Tezuka effortlessly returned another serve, forcing Sanada to rely on his signature technique again.
The ball shot across the net—
But this time, Tezuka had already predicted it.
He dashed sideways, slicing the ball with a precise backhand—
"He… returned it?!"
Sanada's skin prickled.
His proudest technique—countered on the second try?!
No time to panic. The ball arced toward the net—a drop shot!
Sanada sprinted forward, reaching the perfect position just as the ball descended.
**"A close-range Swifter Than the Wind—let's see you handle this!"**
Racket raised, Sanada locked onto Tezuka's position.
Even Yukimura couldn't return this version—this point was his!
But…
The ball never bounced.
Sanada stared in disbelief.
The ball spun violently against the court—then rolled backward without rebounding.
"Wha—WHAT?!"
He stood frozen, racket still mid-swing.
"Whoa! The ball didn't bounce! Am I dreaming?!"
"Did it hit a rock or something?"
"No way! If it hit something, it would've reacted on impact—not spun like that!"
"You're saying… that kid made it do that?!"
"That's insane!"
No matter the era, the Zero-Shiki series was a spectacle.
"Tezuka Kunimitsu scores! 30–15!"
The umpire's call snapped the crowd back to reality.
Yukimura's eyes gleamed with intrigue. "An exquisite technique."
Even he wouldn't have immediately grasped the mechanics behind Zero-Shiki Drop.
Who would've thought the spin could prevent the bounce entirely?
It was a formidable move—but Yukimura knew the counter: Don't let it touch the ground.
THWACK!
Sanada served again.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
A fierce rally erupted—Sanada relentlessly attacking with Swifter Than the Wind, while Tezuka calmly returned each shot.
On the surface, Sanada seemed dominant.
But Kirihara shook his head. "Sanada's in for a world of pain."