After picking up his racket, Chris couldn't help but feel a tinge of bitterness. He had never seen the Light of Pride before, but he had at least heard of it. What he couldn't understand was how a first-year junior high student from the Japan Team could possibly wield such power.
Still, Chris forced the frustration down and quickly served again. He had the mental strength expected of someone playing in the World Cup. Shiraishi was also a little surprised that Kintarō had entered Ten'i Muhō so early, but since it had already happened, he decided to finish the match swiftly while Kintarō could still maintain the state.
Shiraishi rushed to the landing spot, swung his left hand sharply, and returned the ball with explosive speed. Jean took a step ahead to intercept at the net, driving the ball toward the left sideline—yet Kintarō's figure flashed in front of it like lightning.
A burst of golden light flickered before their eyes, and before Jean and Chris could react, the ball had already shot between them, landed in the backcourt, and bounced out of bounds.
"15–40!"
The next rally was nearly identical. After Chris's serve, Kintarō's return came back even faster. This time, they didn't even catch a shadow of the ball—by the time they realized what had happened, it was already out of the court.
"Game! Japan! 2–0!"
"This match is hopeless for them now. Once you're swallowed by the Radiance of Ten'i, without a countermeasure, your own strength will be completely suppressed," Sanada sighed from the player seats.
After losing two games in a row, Jean and Chris's morale inevitably took a hit. To make things worse, some spectators began hurling insults from the stands.
"You can't even beat a bunch of Japanese kids! You're the shame of Australia!"
"Get off the court already! Stop embarrassing us!"
The jeers poured down relentlessly, crushing Jean and Chris under immense pressure. On the Japan Team's side, even their players were confused—it was supposed to be an away match, but somehow, the home team was the one under fire.
Under the oppressive glow of Ten'i and the weight of the crowd's scorn, their performance quickly crumbled. Already inferior in raw strength to Shiraishi and Kintarō, Jean and Chris now found themselves completely overpowered.
"Game! Japan! 3–0!"
"Game! Japan! 4–0!"
"Game! Japan! 5–0!"
In rapid succession, Shiraishi and Kintarō took three more games, forcing the Australian team to the brink. Many spectators began throwing trash toward the court, but the security staff quickly stepped in to stop them.
The sixth game was Chris's serve. He and Jean looked completely drained, sweat pouring down their faces. Just as Chris was about to toss the ball, the blue radiance around Kintarō's body began to fade.
'Time's up, huh? Looks like Kintarō's emotions have calmed down,' Shiraishi thought as he noticed Kintarō exiting Ten'i Muhō.
Jean also caught on to the change and quietly exhaled in relief. They had already lost five games, but as long as there was still a chance, he refused to give up. After all, the Australian team had come too far to go down without a fight. He had to do everything he could for his country.
As Chris served, Kintarō—though no longer in his Ten'i state—still moved with immense strength. He leapt toward the ball's landing point and smashed it back with explosive force, the sound echoing across the court.
After serving, Jean exchanged a quick look with Chris. The two immediately shifted into their modified Australian Formation again, one in front and one behind, charging toward the ball together. Without the oppressive Radiance of Ten'i, their speed had started to return.
As Jean reached the ball, he was about to swing when Shiraishi's eyes narrowed. A faint shadow of Kaji flickered across him, and he moved swiftly to the predicted position. But suddenly, Jean's racket veered away from the ball, leaving Chris to take over. Chris drove the shot toward Kintarō on the opposite side.
Kintarō didn't hesitate. Seeing the ball come his way, he leapt forward with a cheerful grin, spun once in midair, and smashed the ball with all his might. The ball turned into a streak of light racing across the court.
But Jean had anticipated it. He and Chris joined forces to intercept, their rackets clashing against the force of the shot before sending it right back toward Kintarō.
On the other side, Shiraishi's sharp gaze caught the rhythm of their movements, and he began to piece together what the two of them were planning.
'So they're planning to wear down Kintarō's stamina? If this were an ordinary player, their tactic might actually work… too bad,' Shiraishi thought, silently offering the two Australian players three seconds of pity in his mind.
Kintarō was now taking on both Jean and Chris alone, locked in a fierce rally. He seemed to be enjoying it, grinning as he exchanged rapid shots with them. He didn't even bother using any of his powerful techniques—just pure, joyful play.
Seeing this, Shiraishi sighed helplessly. He began to move into position to cover Kintarō's openings, clearly entering what could only be called "babysitting mode." The match was practically decided anyway, so he figured he might as well let the kid have some fun in the final game.
Across the court, Jean and Chris fought back with determined faces, their exchanges with Kintarō fast and sharp. Noticing that Kintarō wasn't using his previous destructive shots, they grew more confident—convinced that his stamina was running low and he couldn't maintain that kind of output anymore.
Watching from the player hall, Byoudouin let out a dissatisfied snort. He couldn't shake the feeling that these middle schoolers weren't taking the World Cup seriously, like they were just here for sightseeing. But when he remembered Akashi and the others' overwhelming power, he could only sigh and let it go.
As a shockwave-like return sped toward him, Jean's eyes darted to Kintarō. He noticed the boy's stance was slightly off-balance and immediately signaled Chris. Both struck in unison, aiming the ball straight at the open spot beneath Kintarō's feet.
This was the strategy they'd come up with during the timeout—to exploit Kintarō's habit of jumping, forcing him into high-energy movements and waiting for an opening to strike a decisive blow.
After hitting that shot, Jean and Chris rushed to the net together. Just as Shiraishi shifted over to cover the gap, the two opponents formed a wall side by side. Shiraishi's return smacked against their defense and was instantly intercepted by Chris's racket.
The ball floated lightly over the net, dropping toward the ground. Kintarō sprinted up and scooped it up with his racket—but the next instant, Jean leapt high at the net and smashed the ball down hard. The shot streaked between Kintarō and Shiraishi and bounced out of bounds.
"15–0!"
In the next rally, they used the same tactic, exploiting Kintarō's habits and coordinating perfectly. Even with Shiraishi's backup, Jean and Chris managed to seize another point.
"30–0!"
"Yare yare~ looks like Kintarō's movements have been completely read by the opponents! No wonder they beat England. Guess I should wrap this up soon before something unexpected happens," Shiraishi muttered lightly from the backcourt as his aura began to rise.
The moment Chris served, the shadow of Kaji flickered across Shiraishi's form. He darted to the landing spot, fired a clean passing shot, and instantly appeared at the net. Then, the phantom of Akashi flashed behind him.
Chris suddenly froze mid-swing, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread—as if something terrifying had fixed its gaze on him. The immense pressure caused a small but fatal distortion in his return motion.
As the ball came flying toward him, Shiraishi raised his left hand and slashed forward in a lightning-fast slice. Seeing this, Jean immediately shifted his balance forward, ready to intercept the short ball. But the moment Shiraishi's racket struck the ball, he realized something was wrong.
"Watch out for his counter shot!" Jean shouted urgently to Chris.
But the warning came too late. The ball hit the court and spun violently, forming a circular trail of motion. Several phantom afterimages flashed past Chris's racket—and then the ball shot straight out of the court.
"Entaku Shot!"
"30–15!"
"Kintarō, you've had your fun, right? Time to finish this. Otherwise, I can't promise that Krauser won't come after you later," Shiraishi said teasingly, a playful glint in his eyes after scoring the point.