As the world tournament drew near, every participating country was making its final preparations. In a small German town, Volk was running laps around the roads. He had already been running for nearly two hours, yet his face barely showed a trace of sweat.
Suddenly, the phone in his pocket rang. He slowed to a stop, caught his breath, then pulled it out and answered. A familiar voice came through the line.
"Bro, I just got word—the doubles tour this year might be postponed for the U-17 World Cup, so I should be able to return to the team early. For the details, Dankmar will explain later!"
"That so? Got it. But we probably won't need to play in the group stage. Q.P. already has things arranged, so no need to rush back. Follow your own pace," Volk replied steadily.
"I heard that since junior high players are required this year, there'll be an exhibition match before the tournament starts, just to show the crowd the level of each country's juniors. Honestly, besides Frankensteiner and Siegfried, there aren't many who'll stand out, right? Guess I'll hurry back to back you up anyway," Bertie joked from the other end.
"An exhibition match, huh? That's just entertainment—no country will go all out. Q.P. planned to pair with Gilles. That should be enough," Volk answered without hesitation after a short pause.
"Gilles… his strength is still below Siegfried's. Even if it's just an exhibition, we can't lose face as the German team. Anyway, we'll see how things go. If I can't make it in time, I won't force it," Bertie agreed after some thought.
"Right. By the way, Q.P. is already gathering intel, but aside from those three countries, we also need to keep an eye on the American team. They've already earned the right to challenge the Big Four. You should look into their data too," Volk reminded.
"Oh? That's convenient. I'm in America right now. I'll check them out while I'm here. Talk later," Bertie said, then hung up after a brief farewell.
At a training base in Spain, in the meeting room, Medanore sat cold-faced across from the acting coach. Beside him, Friō wore his usual smile, but his expression faintly revealed impatience.
"The head coach should be back before the semifinals," the acting coach said calmly.
"I see. Let's hope he doesn't break his word this time," Medanore replied icily, then stood and walked out.
"Sorry, coach! I'll head out too!" Friō apologized quickly before chasing after him.
At Switzerland's national training base, Amadeus listened to his intel team's report. His eyes carried both calm and sharp tension, especially when Japan's information came up.
"Byoudouin Houou… this time, let's settle it once and for all," Amadeus said seriously, recalling the past.
In a castle on the outskirts of Paris, France, Camus smiled at the red-haired boy across from him. He slowly extended his right hand toward him and said earnestly,
"Join me in sparking a revolution in tennis, Prince of France!"
On the other side of the world, at America's U-17 training camp, Ryōma casually took down challenger after challenger. Several players lay sprawled across the court, defeated.
"Wow, not bad at all! As expected of your little brother, Ryōga," Kiko said with admiration.
"Looks like Ryōma's spot on the American team is set," Reinhardt added with a smile.
"These matches aren't even a challenge for the brat. I told you there was no need for such a boring selection," Ryōga said helplessly.
"Don't say that, Ryōga-boy! Without this selection, those fools wouldn't accept Ryōma," Dodo laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder.
"That's right, that's right! And with Ryōma on board, I'm even more confident for the World Cup!" Kiko agreed cheerfully.
As they spoke, Ryōma's opponent, Rocky Meredith, collapsed unconscious. Behind him, the wall had a round crater, cracks spiderwebbing out from it.
"Hey~~~ is this really the level of America's reserve members? You're nowhere near enough," Ryōma adjusted his cap with an arrogant look.
"That… kid… he's… a monster," Maxwell groaned weakly from the ground.
Meanwhile, on a nearby beach in the same city, Japan's representatives were undergoing Coach Mifune's final trial before the World Cup—beach pick-up challenges.
But most of them had already 'fallen' after eating Mitsuya's rainbow onigiri. On the scoreboard, the high schoolers' success rate was far above the juniors'. Still, with Fuji about to step up, the junior high players felt a surge of hope.
But instead of going to the beach to hit on girls, Fuji walked straight up to Mitsuya, picked up a purple rice ball from his tray, and bit into it with a smile under everyone's horrified gaze.
"Ara~ not bad at all! Mitsuya-senpai's cooking is still amazing!" Fuji praised as he chewed. The next second, his expression changed, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed stiffly to the ground.
"I knew your taste buds were special, so I added some unique seasoning this time. The chance of you going down was 100%, Fuji Shūsuke~" Mitsuya said gently with a smile, looking at Fuji lying there.
Inui silently stepped forward, stuck a sardine into Fuji's hair, and performed some strange ritual. The others watching shivered, vowing never to cross the guy who played data tennis.
But in the matches after that, the junior high players did great, landing several successes in a row. Niō, especially, transformed into the super-popular Kunijima Ikuhito, while Atobe stirred up a huge commotion.
Soon, the challenge reached its climax. Only two were left to compete: Akashi Seijurō and Byoudouin Houou. Akashi stepped forward first.
He slowly approached a girl, looked at her with cold eyes, and said indifferently, "Come with me. Don't make me say it twice."
"Who are you? Why would I go with you?" the girl blurted out instinctively. If not for Akashi's good looks, she might have cursed him out on the spot.
"My orders are absolute." A flash of red lightning passed through Akashi's eyes, and an overwhelming mental force hit the girl's brain. Her eyes instantly lost focus, and like a puppet she followed Akashi straight to Mifune.
Mifune's mouth twitched. He never imagined Akashi's way of hitting on someone would be so hardcore. It looked less like flirting and more like kidnapping. But rules were rules, so he had no choice but to announce Akashi's success.
Everyone else was left speechless. They couldn't help glancing at Yukimura, smiling faintly to the side, suspecting he might have used a similar trick to succeed earlier.
As people asked if Yukimura had stripped away the girl's five senses, Byoudouin's attempt, just like in the original, caused big trouble. But this time Akashi had already expected it. His bodyguards quickly stepped up and surrounded the so-called mob boss, who immediately backed down and claimed he had only been joking.
Yet none of them, not even Akashi, noticed the man watching them from nearby. With hair styled just like One Piece's Marco, he wore a strange expression as he stared at the group.
———
A few days later, at Melbourne Airport in Australia, a large private jet from Japan landed. Mifune led the group off the plane. To everyone's surprise, Tanegashima Shūji was with them—though looking terribly pale.
Beside him, Irie covered his mouth, chuckling. It had been a long time since he saw Tanegashima this miserable. After a while, Tanegashima lifted his head and glared pitifully at Akashi at the front of the group.
"This is awful. A real plane is nothing like the simulator~" Tanegashima muttered, rubbing his temples nonstop.
"That airsickness of yours is hopeless," Irie said with a laugh, shaking his head.
During simulator training, Tanegashima never spent more than two hours at a time. But the flight from Japan to Melbourne lasted over ten hours, and now he felt like his insides had all been scrambled together.
"Enough complaining! At least you avoided a week drifting at sea," Mifune said coldly, giving him a sharp look in his suit.
For a pro tennis player, Tanegashima's airsickness was a serious flaw. Traveling worldwide for tours and tournaments was unavoidable, and not being able to fly meant losing crucial chances to earn points.
Amid the chatter, they reached the airport entrance, where two luxury buses were already waiting—arranged in advance by Akashi through his group's Australian branch. Since he could handle it, he didn't bother relying on the tournament committee or the hosts.
"Quiet, all of you! It's time to show the world that our era has arrived. The number one spot in the world—we'll take it ourselves!" Akashi stood at the front, radiating the absolute confidence of a king.