It is as if Liu Sang has possessed him.

The referee’s voice commanded the attention of every player, whether from Evergreen or Shonan, all eyes turning serious as they fixed upon the four figures on the tennis court.

At this moment, Yohei Tanaka and Kohei Tanaka stood in staggered half-squats, their slender frames swaying slightly with restless energy, clearly brimming with enthusiasm for this doubles match.

“Watch closely now—this is my masterpiece,” murmured Aoi Hanamura, arms folded, lightly tapping her crossed leg, her tone laced with alluring confidence upon seeing the Tanaka brothers in good form.

“I’m going in, Renji,” whispered Renji Yanagi, gripping the tennis ball tightly.

“Anytime. I’ll fight alongside you to the very end,” came the calm, reassuring reply from Sadaharu Inui behind him, his steady words instilling a sense of security—as if with Sadaharu around, Renji could never feel lost or helpless.

“That guy…” As the match was about to begin, Mei Matsubara caught a glimpse of Reiji Kamijo suddenly turning and leaving the court, whispering, “What a mechanical person with no hobbies whatsoever.”

The young boy naturally knew what that cone-shaped hair glued to his head was up to, but even if Kamijo had warmed up early, he was no match for Tezuka. Besides, whether he could even face Tezuka in a rally was still a question.

Renji served diagonally; Kohei Tanaka darted forward swiftly, halted, then twisted his waist sharply.

“Serve!” Renji called calmly as he sent the ball to the gap opening between the Tanaka brothers.

But just as he struck, their formation suddenly shifted—the two who had been spread apart quickly closed in on each other, then stopped abruptly in place.

“That running pattern…” Sadaharu’s mind raced as he observed, murmuring to himself, “Parallel formation… I didn’t expect they’d be skilled at that.”

“Senior Inoue, what kind of positioning is that?” Saori Shiba sensed something was off and asked.

“That’s the parallel formation, designed to cover the center line and handle shots aimed between partners. Usually, the middle area in doubles is vulnerable, but for players with great synergy, those shots pose little threat. Besides, the Tanaka brothers are twins—they’re probably trying to give Inui and Yanagi a harsh lesson,” analyzed Mamoru Inoue.

“Parallel formation, huh… Renji’s chance of scoring with a drop shot is 23.6%, but with a lob to the backcourt, it’s 76.5%,” Sadaharu thought, numbers flashing through his mind as he watched the Tanakas.

Thud.

A dull impact echoed as Renji’s lob soared into the Tanakas’ backcourt. Yet when he blinked in surprise, the brothers were already lurking there, ready to pounce. Facing the nearly unreachable lob, Yohei let out a spirited cry.

The ball zipped past Renji, barely touching the ground, and Sadaharu was too slow to react; by the time he stepped forward, the ball had bounced near the baseline and sailed out of bounds.

“Fifteen-love!”

“What…” Renji turned in mild shock, while Aoi Hanamura’s pink lips curled into a proud smile as she lightly swept a strand of deep crimson hair behind her ear.

“Yohei and Kohei’s hearing is terrifyingly sharp. Being twins, their coordination is flawless—no mistakes at all,” Haruki Wakaba said with a smug grin.

“If we didn’t know they could predict where the ball would land by sound, we might think these two transferred straight from Pikachu Middle School. Their anticipatory movements are nothing short of teleportation,” Mei murmured, watching closely as the Tanaka brothers reacted instantly to every sound.

“What just happened? They were standing on the center line and suddenly both appeared at the baseline…” Fuyuka Oda felt as if the twins had teleported—how else could it be?

“They start moving towards the baseline as soon as Renji initiates his swing but before he completes it,” Kaede Kitajima observed, eyes on Yohei holding the racket like a shoulder pole and Kohei pointing his racket diagonally at the ground, both wearing confident smiles.

“Anticipation… such speed,” Sara Kitajima exclaimed in surprise.

“To predict Renji’s moves the instant he begins… who exactly are these guys?” Yuna Iwamura whispered.

“They’re said to be experts in data-driven doubles tennis, but honestly, I don’t see it,” Yohei said dismissively.

“Before the match, Hanamura-sensei told us to watch out for their precise predictive calculations of the opponent’s ball trajectory. But how do they calculate it? That last shot seemed easy to return, didn’t it?” Kohei added.

“Kohei, let’s wrap this up in twenty minutes,” Yohei declared.

…

“So this is the athletic advantage that hearing brings,” Renji muttered, watching the Tanaka brothers with no surprise.

“Their auditory senses are even sharper than expected—able to anticipate Renji’s moves rather than just reacting to the sound of the racket hitting the ball,” Sadaharu updated his mental dossier quickly.

On Renji’s second serve, after Yohei returned the ball, Renji directly sent it to Yohei’s backhand side. Without twisting his body drastically or switching hands, Yohei couldn’t have returned that shot!

“Ramen-na! (Don’t underestimate me!)” Yohei spun agilely, raising his racket over his head with a backhand, then aimed at Renji’s backhand.

“What flexibility! That style rivals Akutsu, doesn’t it?” Ryo Shishido exclaimed, captivated by Yohei’s graceful poise.

“Yohei and Kohei aren’t just good listeners; their bodies are as supple as girls’. They can perform many difficult, dazzling moves without even practicing flexibility,” Aoi smiled, a deeper blush on her rosy lips.

Renji’s data-driven tennis wasn’t a bluff either—he had already calculated this possibility and sent the ball straight at Yohei again. But Yohei didn’t meet it head-on; instead, the Tanaka brothers resumed their parallel formation.

“Back to center line?” Renji’s eyes flickered with blue light, focusing on the spot behind the line where his chances of winning were higher.

Thud!

“Another lob?!” Saori tracked the ball rising into the air with her camera.

“That’s not just a lob,” Sadaharu observed. “Judging by Renji’s action, it has a bit of topspin. The speed and angle are much stronger than the last lob—there’s no way the Tanaka brothers can return this one, even with their hearing.”

“What?!” Mamoru’s eyes widened as he stared at the opposite baseline. When exactly had the twins appeared there?

“N-No way… Are they teleporting?” Mamoru gripped the fence, shocked.

“As I said before, they move as soon as Renji begins his swing—not waiting for the sound of racket meeting ball. In other words, Inui and Yanagi are under constant observation. No matter what move they make, the twins can foresee and respond instantly,” Kaede said gravely.

“So that’s it… If you blink, you’ll miss their movement…” Mamoru glanced at Kaede, then back at the court.

“I’ll take this one—here we go!” Yohei swung his right arm swiftly as the ball dropped.

Thwack!

“Thirty-love!”

Renji watched as the lob with topspin was effortlessly returned. Narrowing his eyes, he murmured, “They can even hear the spin?”

“Trouble… Renji’s getting flustered,” Fuji opened his blue eyes.

“Looks like two frail girls, but their skill is terrifying…” Ryo was stunned by the twins’ performance.

“Don’t rush, Renji. There will be a chance,” Sadaharu said evenly.

“Yeah,” Renji nodded slightly, squinting anew. Whatever their unbelievable hearing talent, every skill has its weakness. He needed to stay calm and use this moment to update his data.

“These two seem much stronger than in the original story. Back then, they relied only on the sound of racket hitting ball. Now they can anticipate based on the opponent’s movements, like being possessed by Liu Sang,” Mei observed, noting the twins’ abnormal abilities. Watching the pair on the court, the boy thought silently, “So… what now, Sadaharu, Renji?”

Purple Pen Literature