The journey of the Junior Ranking Tournament had come to an end.
Little Yukimura and Little Tezuka made a brief promise to face each other again in the future before hurriedly parting ways.
Worth mentioning—Little Sanada threw some harsh words before leaving, only to be completely ignored by Tezuka, turning him red with rage on the spot.
...
Arrival at Seigaku
After parting ways with Tezuka and his group, Yoru returned home and immediately headed to the yard, giving Nanjiro, who was flipping through a weekly magazine, a nudge.
"Hey, old man, cough up some gold coins. I'm heading to Germany\~"
"Germany?"
Nanjiro quickly folded his magazine, scratching his beard with interest. "Kid, can't hold back anymore, huh? Planning to head somewhere serious?"
"Just for about a week…"
Yoru explained everything that happened today—his encounter with Schneider and the German coach.
"So basically, the Nationals are too boring for you, and now you want to spar with some German elite players?"
Nanjiro was deadpan.
When did being a tennis club captain get so easy?
Back in his day, being captain meant acting like both dad and mom to the team—he even started growing gray hairs in junior high.
But he wasn't too emotionally attached to Seigaku. His son's growth was far more important.
"How long are you planning to stay? I'd better help you make arrangements."
"Should be… including travel, about a week."
"Wait a sec."
Nanjiro started scrolling through his phone contacts.
"Yare yare, found it\~"
Ring… ring…
The call went through on speaker mode.
"Nanjiro! What made you suddenly call? Thinking of making a comeback\~?"
The other person spoke in German.
Thanks to memories from two lifetimes, Yoru had picked up most of the world's major languages, so he understood every word.
"I'm too old to be stirring things up again."
"Retel, my eldest son will be heading to Germany in a few days. He wants to play around at the Elite Club. Can you arrange something?"
Retel.
Yoru was a bit surprised.
Could it be…
"Your eldest son?"
"Yeah, he's Rin son. I'm his adoptive father now."
"Rin son…"
Silence fell on the other end.
Yoru was even more surprised now.
From the way they spoke, Retel clearly knew his father. Looks like his "cheap" dad had broader connections than expected.
The world really is one big social network\~
After some idle chatter, Nanjiro suddenly turned to Yoru. "Kid, if you're going to Germany, you'd better notify your school. Go make a call."
Yoru understood what he meant. With a shrug, he turned and left.
Once Yoru disappeared around the corner, Nanjiro switched his phone off speaker mode and spoke in a mysterious tone.
"Retel, you've got connections in Germany. Set this kid up with some serious players. Doesn't matter if they're older—make it rough for him."
"Huh??"
Retel was stunned.
"Why?"
"I want him to take a hit or two…"
Nanjiro began to recount Yoru's growth from childhood.
At first, Retel was making surprised noises. By the end, he was speechless.
Especially when he learned that Yoru had already surpassed Nanjiro's strength at the same age.
Retel used to be Nanjiro's sparring partner. He knew how monstrous Nanjiro had been—completely unmatched by any peer.
All these years later…
Retel had transitioned from professional sparring partner to assistant coach, yet still hadn't met a single talent comparable to Nanjiro—not even his current prized students.
If QP could evolve into his ultimate perfect form, he'd come close to reaching the realm of the Tennis God.
But close was all it would ever be.
Because the only people to reach that level were—
—Nanjiro back in the day.
—and now, a reigning champion on the pro circuit with 20 Grand Slam titles.
Hearing Yoru's talent described as even more monstrous than Nanjiro's, even the well-traveled Retel was shocked speechless.
After a moment's hesitation, Retel finally spoke. "You're not messing with me again, are you?"
"I never joke when it comes to tennis," Nanjiro replied, serious now.
"This kid's never suffered a setback in his life. Sure, I was like that too… but you know I had a period of confusion."
"If not for Rin help back then, I wouldn't have been able to take that next step."
"Yoru is even more unstoppable than I was at his age. The higher you stand, the harder it is to push through that door—you know what I mean."
"…"
Retel fell silent again.
The call lasted an hour.
What exactly they discussed, Yoru didn't know.
He had his own headache to deal with right now.
---
"Honestly, I wanted to bring this up ever since you announced the seven fixed regulars," said Ryūzaki Sumire on the other end of the phone. "Now you're leaving for a week, and it just happens to be during the Nationals?"
"How are we supposed to fill the vacant spot?"
Seigaku had no substitutes!
If Yoru were still around, it wouldn't matter. But not coming back before the semifinals was a problem.
The missing position?
Easily solved—just select a player from the club to fill in.
But Yoru had his concerns.
He'd initially set up the "fixed seven" system to encourage a wolf-pack mentality—tough love and internal competition.
If this were Tezuka's year, maybe substitutes could be added. That group had plenty of talent.
But his current generation? They needed this method to force growth.
It was the "sardine effect"—using pressure from hardworking underclassmen to awaken the survival instincts of players like Kawasaki.
Adding a substitute now would ease that pressure and let people like Kawasaki breathe.
And that, he couldn't allow.
To win Nationals, a four-star team wasn't enough!
"No."
"No substitutes."
After careful thought, Yoru refused.
"Just register someone to take my spot on paper. They won't play. If we can't win the first four matches, we'll forfeit."
The moment he finished speaking, Ryūzaki's roar erupted through the phone.
"What… are you insane?! Do you realize how important the Nationals are?!"
"You're gambling the Nationals?!"
Yoru replied coldly, "Life is a gamble. And you know what it would mean for Kawasaki and the others if we added a substitute. Even if Seigaku gets through Nationals, we won't be strong enough to challenge for the national championship."
"Do you want a title, or just an appearance at Nationals, Coach Ryūzaki? You know which choice is better."
"You handed full control of Seigaku to me—so let me do things my way."
"Of course, you're the coach. The final call is yours."
With that, Yoru hung up.
Rude? Perhaps.
But women—especially menopausal old ladies—need time and space to calm down.
"That damn brat!"
Ryūzaki's vein bulged as the dial tone rang in her ears.
But she quickly settled down, falling into deep thought.