(Author's Note: Are you sure you want Akutsu? Right now, Seigaku is already an unbeatable team. I was thinking of nurturing him differently—like how Seiichi and Sanada operate—to give future Ryoma a real challenge, turning his enrollment into a hell-mode difficulty.)
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[Name]: Akutsu Jin
[Age]: 13
[Techniques]: Personal Five Stats (Lv. 7), Tennis Fundamentals (Lv. 3)
[Talent]: Savage Beast
[Combat Power]: 5 Stars
[Savage Beast]: Possesses animalistic reflexes, destructive power, speed, flexibility, and balance. Permanently grows stronger from injuries sustained in battle.
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"This monster?"
Yoru blinked in surprise.
He hadn't expected Akutsu Jin—and his stats were bizarre.
Lv. 7 physicals paired with Lv. 3 fundamentals, yet still a 5-star combat rating.
Is this guy the tennis version of a Saiyan?
"I'm Yoru."
Akutsu's lips twisted into a feral grin. "Heard you're the best middle school tennis player. Play me."
A few days ago, he'd crushed some nobody named Shiratama from the tennis club.
Before passing out, the guy had wheezed: "If you're so tough… go challenge Yoru."
Naturally, Akutsu took that as a personal invitation.
"Why should I?" Yoru smirked.
Akutsu's expression darkened. "Either play me… or I beat you up. Your choice."
Ah. Violence solves everything.
Yoru resisted the urge to facepalm.
In the original series, Akutsu was exactly like this—a brute who either smashed through problems or died trying.
"Sure. Try hitting me first. Land a punch, and I'll play you."
The taunt dripped from Yoru's mouth like honey—infuriatingly casual.
Beside him, QP silently took three steps back.
Akutsu exploded.
He lunged, fist aimed straight at Yoru's face—
Only for Yoru to sidestep effortlessly and kick him in the gut.
THUD.
Akutsu skidded two meters across the pavement, pain radiating through his abdomen.
He didn't care.
He attacked again.
And again.
And again.
Each time, Yoru's foot met the same spot—until Akutsu was coughing up bile.
"Impossible."
Akutsu stared, shaken.
His insane reflexes had let him dismantle black belts at the karate club.
So why couldn't he touch this guy?
"Cute."
Yoru's grin widened.
(Akutsu was only a month younger, but the height difference made it laughable.)
"Fine, I'll play you."
Turning his back, Yoru strolled toward a nearby street court.
Normally, Akutsu would've ambushed him for that disrespect.
But something primal stopped him.
A beast's instinct—the kind that freezes prey when a predator is near.
For the first time in his life, Akutsu held back.
---
QP walked beside Yoru, voice flat. "Pointless match."
"He's different."
Yoru's eyes gleamed.
Akutsu was perfect—a future training dummy for Ryoma.
With [Savage Beast], leveling him up was easy. Just hurt him. A lot.
(Like Oni, but dumber.)
---
10 minutes later.
The trio reached a rundown street court. Cracked asphalt, rusted nets—the works.
Yoru kept his jacket on as he stepped onto the court.
Akutsu bristled but stayed silent.
"Warm up?"
"No."
Akutsu spat. That ass-kicking was warm-up enough.
"Serve."
Yoru tossed the ball over.
BANG!
Akutsu fired a body shot—payback for the kicks.
Yoru dodged, returning it with another body shot.
"Tch!"
Akutsu contorted mid-air, twisting like a cat to avoid the ball while somehow smashing it back.
QP's eyes narrowed. "That flexibility…"
Now he understood Yoru's interest.
The rally continued—10 exchanges, all body shots.
(Yoru was holding back, testing Akutsu's limits.)
In raw physical talent, Akutsu was peerless among middle schoolers—power, speed, flexibility, endurance.
"Damn it!"
Realizing this wasn't working, Akutsu charged the net.
"Idiot." QP sighed.
Net-rushing with garbage fundamentals? Suicide.
But Akutsu didn't care. This was how he'd crushed those tennis club weaklings.
"Too slow."
A golden streak blew past Akutsu before he could react.
"My point."
Yoru turned away. "Your fundamentals suck. All that talent, wasted. Honestly? Boring."
"Here's the deal. I'll use one move. Return it, and you win."
"Never shown this to anyone else, by the way."
Akutsu seethed but had no rebuttal.
He'd picked up a racket a week ago. No training, no technique—just raw violence.
Grudgingly, he tossed the ball back.
Then—
Crimson light erupted.
Akutsu's instincts screamed.
"Try not to die."
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