Prince of Tennis: Shocking! Hyotei's Demon King is a Yukimura fangirl!

Chapter 175 Seigaku VS Hyotei, Doubles Match 1

The match had barely begun when Seigaku's serve was already counting down to its end.

As Wang Yueling listened to the unified shouts of the cheering squad, she tapped her fingertips a few times on the cold edge of the handrail.

Suddenly, he turned his head and glanced at Atobe.

The other person was sitting upright in the rest area, with Luna curled up on his lap, the bread roll crooked to one side, and the straw hat tilted.

The kitten was sleeping soundly, its belly rising and falling gently, its two front paws dangling loosely.

Atobe's posture was a bit stiff, with one hand supporting the cat's butt and the other hand hanging on its back, as if he was ready to catch something at any moment, but he didn't dare to make any big movements.

Wang Yueling chuckled as she looked at his wary expression.

I felt a little itchy and wanted to tease him.

His gaze carried a hint of mischief, and it just so happened that it met Atobe's gaze.

Atobe raised an eyebrow, his eyes clearly saying, "What are you up to now?" Before he could even open his mouth, a soft "snap" was heard.

Mochizuki Ryo raised his right hand, his thumb and forefinger slightly apart, and snapped his fingers in the air, mimicking Atobe's usual manner.

The sound wasn't loud; it should have been drowned out by the noise of the entire venue.

But the strange thing is...

The moment the snap of the fingers landed, the regulars who had been talking loudly in the Hyotei rest area instantly fell silent.

next second.

The massive Hyotei support group in the stands seemed to have been paused; the shouts stopped abruptly, and even the sound of the support fans opening and closing vanished completely.

In just two seconds, the half of the stadium that had been bustling with noise suddenly fell silent.

Hearing the familiar snap of fingers, Luna in Atobe's arms twitched her ears in surprise, and groggily raised her little head, her heterochromatic eyes scanning the room in a daze.

She curled up in Atobe's arms and went back to sleep.

Atobe's fingertips paused on the cat's back. He turned his head to look at Mochizuki Ryo, his eyebrows raised high, and rolled his eyes at him in annoyance.

He muttered a low scoff, "Boring."

She didn't say much, but simply looked away and comforted the kitten in her arms.

He knew what Wang Yueling meant: "Keeping quiet during the service rally in an official match is the most basic etiquette for spectators."

Ryo Mochizuki had mentioned this during the previous training camp, and the entire Hyotei Tennis Club remembered it. The cheering squad had also informed them long ago.

Shout during breaks, but remain quiet during the match.

Wang Yueling raised an eyebrow at him with an annoying grin, a lazy smile playing on her lips, showing no embarrassment at being caught cheating.

The regulars at Hyotei were used to it.

Oshitari pushed up his glasses, a slight smile playing on his lips, and shook his head. Shishido, standing next to him, crossed his arms, clicked his tongue, but kept his gaze fixed on the field, saying nothing.

Feng sat upright, her hands on her knees, obedient and quiet, even her breathing was soft as she muttered to herself.

"Senior, you're teasing the minister again on purpose."

Cilang was drowsy and had his head down, about to fall asleep.

The sudden silence startled him. He rubbed his eyes, looked up blankly, glanced around, then leaned back to doze off again, mumbling a vague reply.

"Hmm... Ling is amazing, she quieted down in one go."

Sakaki Taro sat next to Atobe, flipping through his tactical board, the papers rustling softly. His face was expressionless, as if he was already used to Mochizuki Ryo's style of doing things, and he didn't even look up.

The spectators from other schools in the stands, who had been noisily discussing Hyotei's lineup, suddenly heard the silence from this side. They looked around and, inexplicably, also fell silent.

In the press box.

Shiba Saori was talking to Inoue with her mouth open, but her words caught in her throat halfway through, and she stared blankly in the direction of Hyotei.

It took me a while to react.

A few seconds later, she leaned close to Inoue's ear and whispered, "Inoue-senpai, this is amazing! He just snapped his fingers, why is everyone so quiet?"

Inoue paused his pen on his notebook, his gaze falling on the blond boy on the coach's bench.

He lowered his voice and replied, "It's leadership. He maintained a tight grip on order at Hyotei, and the others were simply influenced by the atmosphere."

Shiba Saori nodded, quickly raised her camera, took two pictures of Mochizuki Ryo, and then quickly aimed it at the field.

He muttered to himself, "Speaking of which, there were rumors about Hyotei's substitute coach having a lot of strange stories. Seeing it today, it's definitely true... He's like a demon king; the whole stadium goes silent as soon as he raises his hand."

Inoue didn't reply, but just stared at the field with an inscrutable expression.

The sudden silence in the Seigaku rest area also startled them for a moment.

Ryuzaki Jin paused, holding a water bottle on the coach's bench, then turned to look at Hyotei next to him, his brows furrowed slightly, his expression complex.

In all her years of coaching tennis, this was the first time she had ever seen a coach with such a strong appeal, and he was just a middle school student.

Inui pushed up his glasses, quickly scribbled two lines in his notebook, then turned his head and whispered to Tezuka Kunimitsu beside him:

"Based on observations at the scene, all members of the Hyotei Tennis Club, including the cheering squad, strictly adhered to the spectator rules set by Mochizuki. They maintained absolute silence during the match and only cheered during breaks between sets. The compliance rate was close to 100%."

Tezuka stood by the fence, his brown hair ruffling in the wind, his eyes serious behind his glasses. He nodded slightly, his voice low: "That's how it should be."

Fuji stood beside him, chestnut hair falling across his forehead, his eyes narrowed into two curved slits. His gaze was fixed on Mochizuki Ryo, a meaningful smile playing on his lips.

This person is really something; he always manages to bring something new and surprising.

I thought it was surprising enough that they separated Shinobu Mukahi, but I didn't expect that the rules for watching the game would be so strictly enforced.

Ryoma Echizen leaned against the railing, his hat pulled low, twirling a tennis ball in his hand.

He glanced at the Hyotei coaching bench, then turned his gaze back to Taki Oginosuke on the court, and muttered, "He's still a long way off."

The three first-year students, who were not far away, reacted much more strongly.

Satoshi Horio was shouting at the top of his lungs, his face flushed, when the words "Kikumaru-senpai, do your best!" got stuck in his throat.

The surroundings suddenly fell silent, making his voice sound particularly abrupt, shrill and loud...

This attracted the attention of several spectators nearby.

Horio's face turned red instantly, and his voice grew softer and softer until it was completely silent, like a mosquito's hum.

He shrank his neck and scratched his head awkwardly.

Katsuro Kato tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "Horio, stop shouting, everyone be quiet."

Katsuo Mizuno nodded in agreement, his voice low: "Yeah, the Hyotei players aren't shouting anymore, so let's not shout either, it'll disturb the players."

Horio pouted, unconvinced, and muttered under his breath, "Why can he just make it quiet whenever he wants? It's not like he owns the stadium..."

Despite saying this, he kept his voice very low, afraid that the Hyotei fans next to him would hear him and cause trouble.

Katsuro tugged at him, signaling him to stop talking. Horio pouted, crossed his arms, and squatted down, his eyes fixed on the field, still feeling a little awkward.

In this eerie and quiet atmosphere, the referee stood in front of the net, raised his hand, and blew the whistle again.

"Double match, second set, first game, Seigaku serves, match begins."

The whistle blew crisply, its sound particularly clear in the quiet stadium.

Takeshi Momoshiro stood behind the baseline, his fingers tightening around his racket.

He took a deep breath, his chest filling with warm air that smelled a bit like plastic.

He glanced quickly down at the inside of his left arm, where his skin was covered with tiny, densely packed writing in black pen.

These are the basic doubles principles he just copied from senior student Daishi at the hospital. Net play principles, baseline rhythm, how to comfort a partner after a mistake, division of labor on high and low balls…

The characters were small and crowded together, but they were written with great care.

This is the first match of the Kanto Tournament, and the opponent is Hyotei.

He cannot afford to lose.

Momoshiro shook his head, clearing his mind of the jumbled thoughts. He held the yellow tennis ball in his left hand, bounced it twice on the ground to feel its elasticity, and then tossed it high into the air.

The yellow ball traced an arc in the air, the midday sun shining on it, making one dizzy. Momoshiro bent his knees, twisted his waist, and swung his racket, the whole movement completed in one smooth motion.

The racket slammed heavily onto the ball, producing a muffled "thud," and the ball, spinning powerfully, hurtled towards the outer corner of the opponent's court.

This is his signature powerful serve, which is fast and powerful, and often scores points directly in singles matches.

Unfortunately, the person standing opposite him was Taki Oginosuke.

Taki stood slightly behind the baseline, leaning forward slightly, his racket held horizontally in front of him. From Momoshiro's toss of the ball to the angle of his swing, and the arc of the ball's flight, all the data was rapidly calculated in his mind.

He shifted his feet to the side, landing precisely where the ball would land, and skillfully deflected most of the force with his racket. The ball then bounced back across the gap on Seigaku's side.

Momoshiro listened to the ball's skillful force and drew a short, smooth arc with his racket.

It's a short drop shot.

The sun was already waiting at the landing point.

He was short, with a very low center of gravity, and his steps were as agile as if he had springs.

Seeing the ball coming, he lightly touched the ground with his toes, glided forward half a step, and stretched his racket forward, intercepting the ball at the point of bounce.

With a slight flick of the wrist, the ball changed direction and headed straight for Kikumaru Eiji's sideline.

The angle is very tricky.

Kikumaru reacted quickly. He was standing at the net when he saw the ball coming, and his feet moved immediately. His red curly hair swayed as he ran, his body leaning to the side, his racket stretched straight, and he managed to catch the ball just before it hit the ground a second time.

The ball was returned a bit high; it was a half-court high ball.

"Momo!" Kikumaru called out.

Momoshiro had already rushed up. He pushed off the ground with both legs, leaped high into the air, raised his racket above his head, aimed at the ball, and smashed it down hard.

"Watch my... smash!!!"

With great power and extremely fast speed, it headed straight for the middle of the opponent's court.

As if he knew all along that Tataki would hit this spot, he stood at the landing point a step ahead.

The racket was held upright, firmly blocking the powerful smash.

A tremendous force came through, and Taki's wrist dipped slightly, but his feet remained firmly planted. He used his strength to backhand slice the ball, sending it flying towards Kikumaru with a strong backspin.

And so it went, back and forth.

One beat, two beats, three beats...

As the number of rounds increased, the ball flew back and forth between the two sides of the field, as if it were being pulled by a string.

Kikumaru was sweating profusely from running.

He noticed that the opposing team seemed to be hitting the ball towards him all the time, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, sometimes in front of the net, sometimes at the baseline, forcing him to run back and forth.

His physical strength wasn't top-notch to begin with, and after all that back and forth, his breathing became rapid, and he felt a slight tightness in his chest.

In the backcourt, Momoshiro is also having a tough time.

Taki's returns always seem to land in a position that's uncomfortable for him, either too close to the side or too close to the net, making it impossible for him to find an opportunity to smash with power.

Several times he finally managed to catch a shallow ball and rushed up to smash it, but the opposing player, Mukahi, seemed to know in advance and was already waiting there to intercept.

The first point lasted a full twelve shots, ending with Kikumaru's return shot going into the net.

"15-0." The referee reported the score.

Mukahi swung his racket, a slightly excited smile on his face. He turned and exchanged a glance with Taki, who nodded slightly, a knowing look in his eyes.

This point was just a test.

The data collection is almost complete.

Sitting on the coach's bench, Wang Yueling witnessed the entire process of this point.

A faint smile played on his lips as he gently rubbed a faint red mark on his left wrist with his fingertips—a mark Luna had accidentally scratched that morning.

I am very satisfied.

Taki's real-time data calculations were even better than he expected, and he figured out Momoshiro's serving habits and Kikumaru's movement rhythm in the first point.

"Bien joué. (Well done!)"

He whispered a compliment in French, his voice not loud, but it carried on the wind to the field.

Hearing this, Xiang Ri waved his hand with his back to him, his red hair swaying, looking even more smug.

In the following points, Hyotei completely controlled the rhythm of the game.

Taki was like a precise machine, hitting the Seigaku duo in the most difficult position to coordinate with every time he returned the ball, constantly making Kikumaru run back, forth, left, and right.

Xiang Ri guards the net like a nimble swallow, seizing any opportunity with a shallow shot to score.

Kikumaru was getting more and more tired from running, his breathing was getting heavier and heavier, and sweat was streaming down his face, wetting the bandage on his face.

Several times he tried to use a special shot, but Xiang Ri anticipated it in advance, either intercepting it or moving him around.

This gave him no chance to jump.

Taocheng is getting increasingly anxious.

Seeing how exhausted Kikumaru was, he wanted to take on more responsibility, so he couldn't help but frequently go to the net, wanting to smash the ball directly to score. But every time he went to the net, the baseline was open, and Taki would immediately hit the ball to the open space behind him, each time just barely missing.

"30-0".

"40-0".

The score gap widened step by step, and Seigaku failed to score a single point.

The atmosphere in the Seigaku rest area was a bit somber.

Kaidou clenched his fists, hissed, and frowned deeply. Kawamura stood beside him, looking worried, muttering, "Good luck, Momoshiro, Kikumaru."

Long Qijin sat on the coach's bench, frowning as he watched the two players struggling on the field, feeling a little heavy-hearted.

She originally thought that even if the temporary team couldn't beat the Hyotei ace doubles team, they would still have a good chance of winning against the opponent's temporary doubles team.

But now it seems that the new pairing on the other side is working together just as well as Shinobu and Mukahi.

No, it's not tacit understanding, it's tactical suppression.

They completely understood Eiji and Momo's weaknesses; their targeting was extremely precise.

Inui's pen flew across the notebook, the paper rustling as he muttered to himself, "Takiginosuke's prediction accuracy exceeds 90%, more than 50% higher than the previous record. Mukahi Gakuto's movement speed is 40% faster than during the Metropolitan Tournament, and his net interception success rate is close to perfect."

"Their formation is not a conventional doubles formation; they don't have a fixed net and baseline..."

The more he wrote, the more his brows furrowed.

The two players from Hyotei are not even in the same league as the level he recorded.

How can they have made such rapid progress in less than two months?

Finally, with Momoshiro's return shot going out of bounds, the first game ended.

"Game, Hyotei. 1-0, switch sides."

The referee's voice carried clearly throughout the stadium.

The Hyotei cheering squad erupted in unison.

"Hakimi! Taki! Well done!"

"Hyotei! Hyotei!! Hyotei!!!"

The shouts were unified, and the support fans began to open and close in unison, full of momentum. After less than half a minute, they all stopped, as quiet as if someone were directing them.