Though neither team had scored yet, this was all part of QP's carefully planned tempo for Yamato.
By exerting his own overwhelming pressure, he gave Yamato more time to observe the behavior and habits of their two opponents.
Even if Tōjō Atobe had no chance to touch the ball, his movement patterns were still being meticulously recorded by Yamato Yūda.
Just two minutes of this intense pressure provided Yamato with more insight than he'd normally gather in three full games.
Putting aside innate talent, the effectiveness of Yamato's Misalignment Shot depended entirely on observation time.
With enough time, even QP could be affected by it.
Precisely because of this, QP gradually ramped up his pressure while avoiding Execution Tennis by relentlessly firing back ultra-high-speed returns.
His sheer foundational mastery was so extreme that even Ōmagari Ryūji's spin shots barely slowed the ball down—it was practically negligible.
Without any special techniques to rely on, the gap in fundamentals forced Ōmagari into purely defensive play, with no real chance to score.
Fortunately, he was a stamina monster.
Trained through triathlons, Ōmagari Ryūji had freakish endurance—and he was more than happy to let QP drag this out.
When it came to stamina, he feared no one.
But as the long rally continued, Ōmagari inevitably made mistakes.
Like a crack in a dam, the floodgates opened—and the score began climbing rapidly.
"Seigaku scores, 1-0!"
...
"Seigaku scores, 2-0!"
...
"Seigaku scores, 3-0!"
...
"Dammit, let me touch the ball! Let me touch the ball!"
Fifteen minutes into the match, three games and twelve points in, Tōjō Atobe still hadn't made contact with the ball once.
His naturally volatile temper finally snapped. "Ryūji! Next game, we're switching to dual baseline!"
Ōmagari lazily glanced at him. Knowing Atobe's personality, he didn't bother arguing.
Facing QP alone was slow suicide—their fundamentals couldn't match his. Three straight lost games proved that.
Stamina-wise, Ōmagari wasn't worried, but pure skill? No chance.
QP's steady breathing showed he could keep this up all match.
Maybe dual baseline would change things. Atobe was their offense, after all—keeping him sidelined wasn't helping.
---
Fourth Game. Tōjō Atobe's serve.
Feeling the ball in his hand, Atobe nearly teared up. Finally.
Never in his tennis career had he been this humiliated—stuck running around like an idiot while others played.
The only time he'd touched the ball was during Yamato's serve, and even then, QP immediately took over.
BAM!
Frustration fueled his serve.
"Yamato!" QP called.
"Already done!" Yamato's cheerful voice rang out.
With a full swing, he smashed the return straight down the center.
Atobe and Ōmagari, now in dual baseline formation, instinctively split toward opposite corners—
Only for the ball to land cleanly on the center line and bounce out.
"Seigaku scores, 15-0!"
The umpire announced the point, shooting the duo a strange look.
To most, Yamato's shot had been basic—right down the middle. Why had they dodged it like the ball was haunted?
But those who knew Yamato's Misalignment Shot understood.
BAM!
At the sound of the ball hitting the back fence, both turned.
"That 'anti-habit shot' from the data…?"
"Damn it!" Their faces darkened.
BAM!
"Seigaku scores, 30-0!"
Another Misalignment Shot.
Even as they mentally fought their instincts, their bodies still moved the wrong way.
Habits weren't so easily broken.
After prolonged exposure, the Misalignment Shot's true power emerged—and the points piled up.
"Seigaku scores, 4-0!"
...
"Seigaku scores, 5-0!"
...
"Shitenhōji scores, 1-5!"
...
By the sixth game, they finally adjusted.
Atobe unleashed his Execution Tennis, forcing Yamato to dodge—costing them the point but avoiding injury.
"That guy's playing so dirty! He's aiming right at people!"
"Yeah! Thank god he didn't hit the nice guy, just the creepy one."
"Ugly tennis." Mitsuya Akuto muttered.
In their match against Shitenhōji, even the Rokkaku brothers had been injured—bandages still visible.
Takei Toshio and Kishimoto Mashō from Hyōtei suffered worse. They'd been carried here today after their match.
---
On the court, seeing Execution Tennis in play, QP didn't hesitate.
"Glow of Experience—activate."
Three games of rest had been for this moment.
1-vs-2 drained more stamina than singles, so QP had rationed wisely.
As an eerie glow enveloped him, Byōdōin closed his eyes.
"It's over…"
If base QP had crushed them, this mode left no hope.
Against a duo like the Rokkaku brothers, they might've stood a chance.
But Atobe and Ōmagari? No way.
The score skyrocketed.
The final game lasted under two minutes.
"Game and match! Seigaku wins, 6-1!"
The umpire's whistle and declaration ignited thunderous applause.
Seigaku's team erupted—this win was huge. With this momentum, their championship odds soared to 90%.
"YES! QP! Yamato! You legends!"
"One step closer to nationals!"
Even the kids in the crowd cheered wildly.
---
"...So this is how we lose?"
Byōdōin's gaze fell on Trash (Kuzuryū), Shitenhōji's Singles 2 player.
The fate of the tournament now rested on him.
The thought made Byōdōin's vision darken.