"There's actually a technique like this…?"
In the Muga no Kyouchi team's rest area, Irie was visibly shaken.
Even if he were the one on the court right now, there'd be nothing he could do against such a shot. He'd just have to watch helplessly as his opponent scored.
Beside him, Kajimoto muttered, "According to tennis rules, a serve must bounce before it can be returned… or even touched."
Boom—!
On the court, Yoru didn't waste time.
He casually tossed up another Zero-Shiki Serve.
Thanks to the system's feedback, his copied techniques weren't just replicated—they were optimized. Even if Tezuka used the same move at the same level, Yoru's version would be superior.
One small refinement? Reducing the ball's ground contact time to near zero.
Just like the Twist Serve, where the spin's lingering effect was minimized.
Swish—!
The ball landed with a whisper, barely spinning before rolling backward.
"I can't just keep losing points like this!"
Shōji's eyes sharpened. In a split-second decision, he pressed his racket against the ground and swiped at the ball.
But the edge of his racket only made the ball roll faster—it didn't lift it.
"Yoru scores! 40-0!"
The umpire hesitated but called the point.
Murmurs erupted from the crowd.
"Wait… isn't that a violation?"
Yoru frowned but didn't argue.
In the original series, someone had managed to scoop up a Zero-Shiki Serve this way—and the umpire let it slide. It wasn't until the World Cup stage that such lax rulings disappeared.
Sloppy officiating.
But arguing now was pointless.
Even if Shōji had lifted the ball, this kind of return would've just been an annoyance.
Shōji's heart pounded.
He'd gambled—testing whether the umpire would let him bend the rules against a rule-bending serve.
And he'd won.
Boom—!
Yoru served again.
Shōji repeated his desperate swipe—
But this time, the racket's edge bounced off the ball the moment it made contact. No lift.
"Yoru scores! Game, 1-0!"
Tch.
Shōji exhaled in frustration.
He'd cheated—and still failed.
Seigaku's Rest Area
Kiriya scoffed. "That umpire's turning a blind eye. Pathetic."
Yamato shrugged. "Every ref has their own standards. And let's be honest—the Zero-Shiki Serve is terrifying. At least he didn't actually return it."
A quiet voice cut in.
"Yoru-senpai has returned the Zero-Shiki Serve before."
Everyone turned to Tezuka.
What?
How was that possible?
Tezuka explained: During their practice match, after he'd served with Zero-Shiki, Yoru had sprinted to the landing spot and—
Stomped the ground the instant the ball touched down.
The vibration forced the ball to bounce slightly.
Zero-Shiki's spin was fragile—its power relied on sticking to the ground. Any disruption could break its effect.
"Sounds simple."
Even Kiriya, not known for deep analysis, shook his head. "But timing that stomp exactly at impact, with just the right force? Way harder than it sounds."
QP blinked, surprised. Kiriya actually used his brain for once.
Exactly.
Theory and execution were worlds apart.
Yoru had pulled it off on his first try purely because his 10/10 Power stat brute-forced the physics.
---
### Game 2 – Shōji's Serve
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Shōji bounced the ball, preparing to serve—
Then Yoru's voice cut through the tension.
"Shōji, you're neutralizing all my returns to counter my Domain and Reverse Domain, aren't you?"
The tactic wasn't a secret.
By stripping every shot of its spin, Shōji wasn't just handling Yoru's power—he was preempting the techniques that had dominated so many matches.
Shōji didn't answer.
He served—a blistering 200 km/h+ shot, though it was far from unreturnable.
Yoru intercepted it effortlessly, continuing mid-rally:
"So, Shōji… what's your next move?"
Huh?
Shōji's instincts flared.
Yoru hadn't spoken for ten minutes—then suddenly dropped two new techniques.
Now he was talking again.
Danger.
"Wait—this spin—?!"
Shōji's pupils contracted.
His sharp dynamic vision caught something impossible—a chaotic, layered rotation he'd never seen before.
The ball was too fast to analyze.
At that moment, QP's voice rang out from Seigaku's bench—
"Tezuka. Watch this shot closely. It's the final evolution of the Domain."
Tezuka's breath hitched.
His eyes locked onto Yoru.
Boom—!
Shōji returned the ball—but his usual composure was shattered.
His expression? Sheer disbelief.
Yoru's voice was ice.
"So you chose to neutralize one of the spins."
The instant the ball crossed the net—
A whirlwind erupted around Yoru, swirling like a miniature tornado.
The ball veered violently—then landed out of bounds.
"Yoru scores! 15-0!"
"H-How is this possible?!"
The one shouting wasn't Shōji—it was Irie.
His glasses nearly slid off as his hands trembled.
He knew how overpowered Hadōkyū no Kiwami was.
Shōji had tested it against countless players—even graduated seniors from the previous generation.
No one had ever broken through it.
Until now.
The rest of the Muga no Kyouchi team was equally stunned.
Shōji's voice was low. "This… shouldn't be possible."
Yoru smirked. "Nothing's impossible."
Truthfully, he'd just been testing a theory.
In the original series, fans had debated endlessly:
Could Shōji's Hadōkyū no Kiwami neutralize the Supreme Domain's spin?
Normally, the question wouldn't even arise—
But the Supreme Domain had shattered Yukimura's "Mirage Mirror", forced opponents into no-win choices, and even Borg admitted he couldn't escape its control.
Its reputation was untouchable—the ultimate spin technique in New Prince of Tennis.
And now, the answer was clear:
Shōji's current Hadōkyū no Kiwami could only neutralize one layer of spin.
Not both.
At least, not yet.
Yoru's grin widened.
"Then I'll help myself~"
---