Xu Pei was simply a comic artist.

Seeing Matsubara Mingyi's gaze as if he might swallow him whole, Chiseki Seichun trembled, quickly stepping back a few paces.

“No matter what happens, he always gets the serve, huh…” Matsubara Mingyi sighed inwardly. Chiseki Seichun truly was the child of fortune, and what was most fatal about it was the high-level, effortless display of superiority.

“Matsubara doesn’t look so well…” Oda Fuyuka remarked with concern upon seeing the boy’s expression.

“That’s true… If he hadn’t spun the racket so forcefully, maybe it wouldn’t have bounced up like that.” Iwamura Yuna agreed.

“Lucky Chiseki, huh? Now I understand why he’s called that,” Inui Sadaharu mused, rubbing his chin in quiet analysis.

“Lucky…”
“Chiseki?”
Oda Fuyuka and Iwamura Yuna echoed together, turning to Inui Sadaharu.

“They say that two years ago, Chiseki Seichun entered the junior tournament and advanced all the way to the semifinals with little effort, then clinched the runner-up position thanks to his outstanding singles skills,” Yanagi Renji swiftly drew upon his memory, adding to the conversation.

“Ah… Well…” The three girls, including Shiba Saori, all wore expressions of surprise, and Inoue Mamoru spoke up: “Indeed, aside from his powerful singles abilities, Chiseki Seichun’s personal luck is an indispensable part of his strength. That’s why he’s known as Lucky Chiseki.”

“I think I’ll let you have the serve this time, Matsubara. Today, the southwest by south is my lucky position. In exchange, let’s swap sides,” Chiseki Seichun said, pointing to where Matsubara Mingyi stood.

“Huh?” The boy was startled.

“Ah, speaking so mysteriously all of a sudden. Actually, I’ve studied astrology and divination. Where you’re standing is perfect—it’s my fortunate direction,” Chiseki Seichun apologized with a smile, exchanging positions with Matsubara Mingyi.

“It’s not all that mysterious… Isn’t the northeast your lucky spot?” Matsubara Mingyi wasn’t swayed by Chiseki Seichun’s devotion to astrology. He remembered that Chiseki’s lucky direction was supposed to be the northeast, wasn’t it?

“Haha, of course not! I’m a Sagittarius, so my lucky directions are only southwest by south and southeast by east. There’s no northeast by east!” Chiseki Seichun laughed heartily.

“Ugh… That old rascal Xu…,” Matsubara Mingyi thought. He’d assumed everything in the original was true, but fairy tales were lies after all. Xu Pei was just a manga artist—what did he really know about Prince of Tennis?

“Are you… ready to start the match?” The umpire, sitting atop the ladder, saw Matsubara Mingyi and Chiseki Seichun chatting and politely interrupted them.

“Ah, of course. Sorry, sorry.” Chiseki Seichun scratched his head with a dry laugh, then turned to the boy with a smile. “Let’s get started, Matsubara. I can hardly wait.”

“Me too. Let me see the strength of the junior tournament’s runner-up, Lucky Chiseki,” Matsubara Mingyi replied with a smirk.

“Luck isn’t the bass, it’s the treble. Though I didn’t draw the singles number one to face Tezuka, playing against you makes me a bit wary—especially your non-spin ball,” Chiseki Seichun corrected the boy’s pronunciation with a smile.

“The third singles match is about to begin. One set, winner takes all. Matsubara from Evergreen serves!” The umpire raised his hand to signal.

“If you’re so wary of my non-spin ball, then… let me show you once more!” Matsubara Mingyi bent slightly, tossed the ball high, and with his racket drawn behind his head, swung forcefully a moment later.

“Smack!”

Whoosh!

“He starts with a non-spin serve!” Shishido Ryo exclaimed, his excellent dynamic vision picking up the action.

“Heh.” Chiseki Seichun’s lake-blue eyes narrowed and, in the next moment, he returned Matsubara Mingyi’s non-spin serve directly.

“He actually returned it!” Inoue Mamoru leaned forward in surprise.

“…” Akutsu also grew serious. That Chiseki guy had returned the kid’s serve as if it were nothing special.

“How can this be…” Oda Fuyuka and Iwamura Yuna were equally shocked.

Matsubara Mingyi wasn’t surprised that Chiseki Seichun could return his non-spin serve; that remarkable dynamic vision… was truly impressive.

“Not just speed, the power is strong too,” Chiseki Seichun remarked, feeling the vibrations in his wrist.

Faced with Chiseki’s return, Matsubara Mingyi didn’t dare slacken; he stepped forward and hit the ball back.

“The power of his shot is much less than his serve, and the speed has slowed as well,” Chiseki commented with a smile.

“What an intense baseline exchange…” The students from Evergreen, witnessing the battle between Matsubara Mingyi and Chiseki Seichun, were fired up.

“That short kid looks impressive, actually holding his own against Chiseki…” The students from Yamabuki Middle School clicked their tongues, while Dongfang Yamei, who had seen Matsubara Mingyi trounce Akutsu, looked somber, thinking, “No, Matsubara still has far more strength than this…”

“This is his tennis, Matsubara Mingyi…” Banta Kan also watched the relentless attacks of Matsubara Mingyi, and as he sighed, he recalled the boy he met while coaching Sangi Middle School—a short-haired youth, just like Matsubara Mingyi, dedicated to attack and never defense… Nanjiro Echizen!

“There’s a gap on the left!” Matsubara Mingyi found an opportunity to score. At that moment, a dangerous smile flickered across Chiseki’s face, and he sent the ball to Matsubara’s left side, but Matsubara had already stepped right!

“Damn!” The boy twisted his foot, lunging toward the left for the ball. Just as his racket was about to make contact, an invisible force burst forth!

“Buzz!”

Matsubara Mingyi sent the ball to the right, and in an instant, Chiseki’s triumphant expression changed dramatically: “This kid… actually got to that ball?!”

“But… this point ends here!” Chiseki, without too much lateral movement, returned Matsubara Mingyi’s shot, then lofted a high lob. No matter how good the boy’s reflexes and explosive power, he could never reach that lob flying toward the backcourt!

“You’re too naive, Chiseki.”

At that moment, Matsubara Mingyi landed and stood firm, readying his swing. His clothes whipped around him, and the lob, headed for the backcourt, began to sway bizarrely. Under everyone’s gaze, it seemed magnetically pulled, quickly circling back toward the boy!

“Thud!”

With a single stroke, Matsubara Mingyi scored with a straight shot while Chiseki was frozen like a statue.

“…15-0!” The umpire was dumbfounded by Matsubara Mingyi’s shot, but having seen many storms, he did his duty.

“What happened…”
“The ball… actually returned along the same path…”
“It felt like something pulled it over!”

A commotion broke out off-court. Fuji suddenly opened his eyes, and Tezuka, seated in the arena, sharpened his gaze. Both knew this move of Matsubara Mingyi and thought in unison: “Tezuka… Domain.”

“Inoue-senpai… what did Matsubara just do?!” Shiba Saori unconsciously lowered her camera.

“That move is…” Inoue Mamoru seemed to know something, his brows tightening.

“Incredible, Matsubara… It’s as if he has a powerful magnet with him…” Oda Fuyuka had never seen such skill, marveling as if discovering a new continent.

“Ah…” Banta Kan also rarely opened his eyes. As his throat moved, he recalled facing Seigaku while coaching Sangi Middle School, when Nanjiro Echizen, who swept the match 6-0, had once used a technique vaguely similar to Matsubara Mingyi’s.

Yet Nanjiro’s technique was so subtle that Banta Kan hadn’t paid it much mind. Now, seeing Matsubara Mingyi flaunt it openly, he was reminded instinctively.

“A new trick?” Inui Sadaharu was amazed by Matsubara Mingyi’s ability to pull the ball toward himself.

“Such skill and finesse… I wonder what the principle is…” Cold sweat slid down Yanagi Renji’s face.

“Please pause! About that last shot…” At this moment, the umpire descended.

“Don’t worry, umpire. Matsubara didn’t use any high-tech tricks with that shot. We all went through strict security checks before entering the arena,” Tezuka stood and explained on Matsubara Mingyi’s behalf.

“Ah… I didn’t mean that…” The umpire saw Tezuka’s misunderstanding and was about to speak when Banta Kan smiled and said, “That’s a masterful tennis technique. When striking the ball, you apply a specific spin; after the opponent hits it, the ball, thanks to the prior spin, returns to the vicinity within a step of the original striking position. Using this skill, you only need to adjust your posture at center court and never leave your spot.”

Hearing Banta Kan’s deep understanding of his own Tezuka Domain, Tezuka was so surprised he parted his lips slightly.