"GAME! Spain leads! 5-0! Change courts!"
"Give up this match, chibi! There's no way you can beat me. Right now, you probably only have that so-called Drive B left, right?" Ryōga looked at his younger brother across the court, his tone tinged with helplessness.
"Then go ahead and swallow that last Drive B too," Ryōma replied, staring at Ryōga with unwavering eyes, showing no sign of backing down.
Hearing Ryōma's words, Ryōga fell silent. Without saying anything, he turned around and walked toward Spain's bench, while Ryōma returned to the American Team's bench.
"Are you okay, Ryōma?" Reinhardt rushed over at once and asked with concern.
"I'm totally fine, Captain! My brother still has a long way to go~" Ryōma immediately looked up and gave Reinhardt a confident smile.
"But your tennis has almost been completely swallowed!!!" Kiko-senpai couldn't help blurting out.
"My tennis? I think you've misunderstood something all this time, Kiko-senpai," Ryōma replied, his gaze suddenly growing deep. "What my brother swallowed just now wasn't my tennis, but Dad's tennis."
"Huh? What do you mean by that?" Kiko looked confused.
"So… that really is your plan?" Reinhardt seemed to understand what Ryōma meant and asked with a complicated expression.
Ryōma smiled faintly and didn't answer. He just adjusted the cap on his head and then walked straight back onto the court, because the timeout had already ended.
"You seem to have grasped the true essence of tennis, kid~ Looks like this old man was worrying for nothing~" In the stands, Nanjirō also seemed to understand Ryōma's plan and spoke with a hint of satisfaction.
The sixth game was Ryōga's service game. Though his emotions were complicated, his movements showed no hesitation. He quickly tossed the ball and swung his racket down with his right hand.
The ball flew into the American Team's court with rapid spin. Ryōma dashed to his left, and with the boost of the One-Footed Split Step, he reached the landing point before the ball even hit the ground.
When the ball landed, it immediately began spinning violently in place. The next instant, it shot straight toward Ryōma's face, but Ryōma was clearly prepared. He leaned his body back slightly and successfully returned Ryōga's slice serve.
Ryōga was already at the forecourt, clearly having served and volleyed. He blasted a powerful drive at the ball, while Ryōma sprinted toward the net at the same time. Reaching the center line, he immediately crouched and, using inertia, continued sliding forward.
The violent friction between his shoes and the court threw up sparks. After sliding into the right position, Ryōma leapt up without hesitation and lifted the incoming ball. Thanks to the forward momentum, Ryōga's drive power didn't affect Ryōma much at all.
Watching the ball fly high, Ryōga gave a helpless smile and immediately turned to run toward the center line. When he reached it, the ball was already dropping fast and slammed into the ground.
Seeing the ball about to bounce again, Ryōga quickly returned it with a half-volley stance. But Ryōma had already anticipated this and dropped a short ball at the net.
In the next instant, Ryōga actually used the sliding motion of Drive B, lifting the ball at the very moment before it hit the ground. At that moment, all of Ryōma's tennis techniques were completely swallowed by Ryōga.
"15-0!"
"Still not planning to admit defeat, chibi? You've already lost your tennis," Ryōga said with a playful tone after scoring.
"Heh~~~~ is that so? But if you want me to give up, you're still far from it, nii-san~" Ryōma replied confidently, not caring at all that his Drive B had been swallowed.
Ryōga shrugged and walked back to the baseline. Without holding back, he fired a Samurai Outside Spin Serve. Ryōma barely managed to return it with just the One-Footed Split Step, but from here on, he could only rely on basic tennis to play against Ryōga.
"30-0!"
"40-0!"
"GAME! 6-0! First set ends! Winner: Spain Team! Overall score 1-0!"
"See~ I told you earlier. You have no chance of winning this match, chibi," Ryōga said with a teasing smile, slinging his racket over his shoulder after taking the first set.
"I think I need to thank you, nii-san! Thank you for swallowing all of Dad's tennis!" Ryōma pointed his racket straight at Ryōga. "In the second set, I'll show you what I learned back in Japan!"
As he spoke, Ryōma's aura surged violently, completely different from before.
——————
Meanwhile, in the Japan Team versus German Team stadium, everyone was staring at Bertie in disbelief. Just now, he had completely taken control of the match. Even Mōri's sleepwalking state couldn't escape his predictions.
"GAME! Germany! 4-1! Change courts!"
"If you keep this up, you're very likely to overdraw your mental power," Mifune said gravely from the Japan Team's bench as he looked at Ochi.
"We're just a little short of finishing it. If we can win this match, that basically means the Japan Team secures a finals spot!" Ochi Tsukimitsu said. His face was pale, but his tone was unusually firm.
Ochi knew that the next Singles Two match would be Akashi Seijurō's. No matter who the opponent was, even if it was Volk, Akashi had no chance of losing. As someone who had played more than a dozen practice matches against Akashi, Ochi understood Akashi's strength better than anyone.
Back in the Byōdōin Middle School days, Ochi Tsukimitsu was absolutely a top-three singles player. Even Tanegashima had records of losing to him. It was just that Byōdōin's brilliance was too dazzling, so Ochi and Tanegashima's fame seemed weaker by comparison.
But as Hyōtei's captain, Ochi naturally carried his pride. After entering high school, he directly became the Hyōtei High School tennis club captain as a first-year, so during the U-17 period, Ochi challenged Akashi many times. He just never won once.
When the timeout ended, both sides returned to the court. This game was Bertie's service game. He stepped to the baseline and, without any hesitation, tossed the ball. With the sound of impact, the ball shot toward the Japan Team's court like an arrow leaving the bow.
Ochi took a single step and intercepted the ball, but when he sent it crosscourt, Dankmar's massive body was already completely blocking the path. As expected, the ball was instantly returned.
Mōri Juuzaburō rushed forward with his eyes closed, but in the next second, his body was blown backward. Dankmar's heavy drive was something even sleep-state Mōri couldn't handle. Luckily, Mōri didn't seem injured after landing.
"15-0!"
Soon, Bertie served again. At the sidelines, Yukimura Seiichi and Akashi Seijurō both noticed Ochi's behavior. Starting from the fifth game, Ochi's gaze had been locked onto Bertie the whole time, and that beyond-limit mental power kept swirling around him.
"At this rate, is Ochi-senpai really going to be okay?" Yukimura asked softly, clearly worried.
"This is his own choice. We can't stop him…" Akashi replied after a brief silence, his voice low.
On the court, Mōri clearly couldn't enter sleepwalking mode again, so he could only clash head-on using sleep mode. All kinds of strange net-blocking postures came out one after another, but they were completely ineffective against Bertie.
"30-0!"
"30-15!"
"40-15!"
"GAME! Germany! 4-2!"
Bertie and Dankmar quickly took the sixth game. The momentum on court began to shift, making several German substitute members finally breathe a sigh of relief. Even though they trusted their regulars' strength, the earlier situation had still made them uneasy.
The seventh game was Mōri's service game. When he reached the baseline, he suddenly opened his eyes and started gasping for air. He was clearly at his limit, his body automatically dropping out of sleep mode.
After catching his breath twice, Mōri still tossed the ball with a resolute gaze. As his right hand swung, the next instant, the ball appeared outside the German baseline as if it had teleported.
"Ability Synchronization—Teleport!"
"ACE! 15-0!"
"You still have the stamina to use Ability Synchronization? Guess I underestimated your grit," Bertie said, narrowing his eyes in surprise. According to his calculations, the player named Mōri should have already hit his physical limit.
Before Bertie could think further, Mōri tossed the ball again. Another teleport serve. This time, a prepared Bertie reacted in time and, using calculated prediction, successfully blocked the ball.
But just as he tried to adjust the racket face, a huge full moon suddenly appeared before his eyes. Immediately after, the sound of the ball hitting the net rang out. His return hadn't cleared the net.
"FAULT! 30-0!"
"Schneider, did you just see a strange moon?" Bertie asked Dankmar seriously.
"You saw it too, Bertie Boy? Could this be another hidden trump card of theirs?" Dankmar had clearly seen the full moon as well, since his vision was now shared with Bertie.
Just as Bertie was about to speak, Mōri fired his third teleport serve. This time, Bertie couldn't properly read the ball's data at all, leaving Dankmar standing there blankly.
"ACE! 40-0!"
The next point was the same. Bertie didn't know what was happening, but the inexplicable pressure rising in his chest made him guess whose doing it was. But hadn't he already cracked Mental Assassination?
"GAME! Japan leads! 5-2!"