"Fourteen spots?!"
The announcement sent shockwaves through the crowd.
This meant six fewer positions in the elite roster—competition would be brutal.
And with Byōdōin, Oni, and Duke excluded from the initial lineup…
"So," Inui adjusted his glasses, "this isn't just a ranking challenge anymore. It's a battle for qualification?"
"Correct."
Kurobe nodded. "No fixed rankings. Fourteen spots—first come, first served."
First come, first served?
The players exchanged glances.
This wasn't a distribution—it was a free-for-all. Hesitate, and the spots would vanish.
Even Ishikawa, the current No. 1, had to fight if he wanted to stay.
"Tch."
The atmosphere grew tense.
No more waiting for weaker opponents—this rule forced everyone to go all out from the start.
But under the pressure radiating from the top players, few dared to move.
"Heh."
A voice cut through the silence.
"If no one's stepping up, I'll take the first match."
All eyes turned to a slick-haired boy in a violet-black tank top—Kite Eishirō of Higa Chūō.
"Kite?!"
The middle schoolers tensed.
This was the same Kite who'd clawed his way into Byōdōin's Court 5—a top-tier player among them.
"What?"
Kite smirked, spinning his racket. "No takers?"
Then—
His racket pointed directly at Ishikawa.
"Come on, Ishikawa. Let's settle this."
Silence.
The high schoolers gaped.
Was this kid insane?!
But the challenge wasn't empty—Kite's tone suggested history between them.
Before Ishikawa could respond—
"Cheeky brat."
A languid voice dripped with disdain.
A purple-haired man descended the stairs, his No. 8 badge glinting.
"Tōno… Atsukyo?!"
The middle schoolers stiffened.
This wasn't just any elite—this was a top-ten representative.
"Match set!"
The referee's voice boomed.
"U-17 Elite No. 8, Tōno Atsukyo (3rd Year HS), vs. Second String, Kite Eishirō (3rd Year MS)."
"Begin preparations!"
---
### Courtside – Strategy Session
"Kite's changed."
Inui's notes flipped rapidly. "After his loss to Ishikawa, he vanished—until now."
Yanagi nodded.
That match had been brutal—Kite literally nailed to a wall by Ishikawa's shots.
Most would've quit.
But Kite had not only returned—he'd earned Byōdōin's respect.
"This'll show us the gap," Yanagi murmured, "between the top ten and the rest."
---
### First Game – Kite's Serve
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Kite bounced the ball, eyes locked on Tōno.
No. 8… Lower than expected, but it'll do.
This match wasn't about pride—it was a mission.
After his crushing defeat, a mysterious man had approached him in the hospital.
"Recover. Then meet me at the street courts."
At first, Kite had scoffed.
The man—middle-aged, unkempt, in a black robe and wooden sandals—looked like a joke.
Then they'd played.
Three minutes.
That's how long it took for Kite to lose worse than he had to Ishikawa.
The man had rewritten his understanding of tennis.
Now, under his guidance, Kite had one goal:
Infiltrate. Observe. Report.
Crack!
"Big Bang!!"
The serve exploded off Kite's racket like a cannon shot.
"Pathetic."
Tōno yawned, returning it effortlessly.
"What?!"
The Higa team froze.
Their captain's signature move—neutralized so easily?!
"Again."
Kite lunged, his form identical—
BAM!
Another Big Bang—this time as a groundstroke.
"15–0!"
"Impossible!"
The crowd erupted.
Kite had just outmaneuvered a top-ten player in three exchanges.
"He's altering the power."
Ōshi's eyes narrowed.
Each shot looked identical—but the impact varied wildly.
Tōno, expecting consistency, misjudged—
Whoosh!
"OUT! 30–0!"
"Again?!"
The high schoolers were stunned.
By the fourth point, Tōno's racket flew from his grip.
Clatter.
Silence.
"GAME! Kite leads, 1–0!"
"No way…"
Even the elites were speechless.
Kite had swept the first game against a top-ten opponent.
"Clever brat."
Tōno picked up his racket, his smirk gone.
"You've been masking the power differential."
Kite said nothing.
"But," Tōno's voice dropped to a whisper, "I was only at 50%."