The whistle blew, echoing through the Shinzen High gymnasium like a mercy killing.
Set 2 Score: Nekoma 25 - Karasuno 11.
It wasn't a match. It was a systematic dismantling.
In the first set, the game had been close (25-19) because Ryuu was a chaotic variable—crashing into Yaku, stealing receiving lines, and disrupting Nekoma's fluid defense. He was a bull in a china shop.
But in the second set, Ryuu had simply... stopped moving on defense.
He listened to Yaku. He stood in his assigned spot. He let the "Shield" of Nekoma do its work.
And it was terrifying.
Yaku dug the ball perfectly. Kenma tossed it to the left. Ryuu smashed it.
Yaku dug again. Kenma tossed. Ryuu smashed.
It was a loop of despair for Karasuno. With Ryuu conserving his energy for offense and blocking, his jumps got higher, and his swings got heavier. Karasuno couldn't score because they couldn't get past the Yaku-Kai defense line, and they couldn't defend because Ryuu simply hammered through their blocks.
"Line up!"
The teams stood facing each other at the net. The Karasuno players looked shell-shocked. Even the usually energetic Nishinoya looked at his bruised arms with a frown.
"Thank you for the game!"
Ryuu bowed, his height making him loom over Daichi.
"You guys..." Daichi wiped sweat from his chin, looking up at Ryuu. "You're absurd. We have a lot of work to do."
Ryuu grinned, slicking back his sweaty crimson hair. "Don't feel bad, Captain. You guys have potential. You just ran into a Raid Boss too early in your leveling curve."
"Raid Boss?" Daichi blinked.
"Gojou!" Hinata shouted, bouncing over. "That was amazing! You were like BAM and then the ball was gone! Teach me how to spike like that!"
Kageyama grabbed Hinata by the collar. "Shut up, boke! He's the enemy!" But Kageyama was staring at Ryuu's hands, analyzing the swing mechanics.
Ryuu looked down at his own hands. They were trembling slightly. Not from nerves, but from the raw impact.
"I can't teach you this, Chibi-chan," Ryuu said, his voice dropping the theatrical tone for a second. "Because honestly? I don't really know how I'm doing it either."
_________________________
Ten minutes later, outside the gym.
Ryuu sat on a grassy patch, chugging a sports drink. The adrenaline was fading, and the reality of his situation was settling in.
It had been, what? Five days? A week since he woke up in this body?
He had the memories of the original owner, sure. He knew the rules of volleyball. But the "engine" inside this body—the muscular density, the height, the explosive fast-twitch fibers—was entirely new to him.
And the Emperor's Eyes... they were a cheat code. They allowed him to see where to hit and when to jump, bypassing the need for experience.
"You looked like a newborn giraffe learning to kill lions."
Ryuu looked up. Coach Nekomata was standing there, holding a clipboard.
"Sensei," Ryuu nodded. "Was I that sloppy?"
"Your stats are incredible," Nekomata said, sitting down on a bench nearby. "Power. Height. Eyesight. In terms of raw specs, you are probably the best player in this prefecture right now. Maybe top three in the country."
Nekomata's eyes narrowed.
"But your form is garbage."
Ryuu laughed. "Don't sugarcoat it, Coach."
"Your approach run is inconsistent," Nekomata listed off, counting on his fingers. "Your arm swing relies entirely on shoulder strength, which will destroy your rotator cuff in a year. Your receiving stance is too high. And your footwork for blocking is non-existent; you just jump and hope your height saves you."
Ryuu sighed, crushing the empty plastic bottle in his hand.
"I know," Ryuu admitted. "I'm relying on talent. Pure, unadulterated, unfair talent."
"Talent gets you to 25-11 against a rebuilding team like Karasuno," Nekomata said sternly. "But against Fukurodani? Against Itachiyama? Against Sakusa Kiyoomi? Talent without foundation will crack."
Ryuu closed his eyes. He visualized the Emperor's Eyes. They gave him the answer, but his body was just brute-forcing the solution. It was like driving a Ferrari but not knowing how to shift gears.
He had transmigrated with a max-level character, but he was playing with button-mashing skills.
"So," Ryuu opened his eyes, the golden irises glowing with a new kind of resolve. "Back to basics?"
"Basics," Nekomata nodded. "For the rest of this camp, I don't want you focusing on spikes. I want you to do passing drills with Yaku. I want you to practice footwork with Kuroo. You need to learn how to drive this tank before you fire the cannon again."
Ryuu stood up, stretching his long limbs. His body ached in places it shouldn't, confirming his poor form.
"Fine," Ryuu smirked. "I suppose even the Demon King had to learn how to hold a sword before he could conquer the world."
"Less talking, more receiving," Yaku's voice came from the gym door. The libero was holding a volleyball, looking like a drill sergeant. "Get in here, Gojou. I'm going to serve at you until you stop looking like a flailing octopus."
Ryuu groaned dramatically. "Save me, readers. The training montage is starting."
He jogged back toward the gym.
The Karasuno match was a massacre, yes. But for Ryuu Gojou, the real tutorial was just beginning.