"What was that just now?! I couldn't even react!" Leprince stared in disbelief at the ball that had already bounced out of the court.
While Leprince was still in shock, Akashi expressionlessly tossed up another ball. With two nearly overlapping impacts echoing one after another, the serve once again sliced past Leprince's side and flew straight out of bounds.
"ACE! 30–40!"
"Yare yare~ I almost forgot, Akashi-kun can use Mach Serve too," Fuji said with a calm smile from the Japan bench.
"281 kilometers! That's almost on par with Ochi-senpai. Based on Leprince's past match data, the probability of Akashi scoring on serve is 100%," Inui Sadaharu stated with absolute confidence.
"It's a shame though. Without Ochi-senpai's height, you can't fully unleash the Mach Serve's true power. Puri~" Niō commented casually, remembering the time he'd copied Ochi himself—he knew just how hard it was to perform a Mach Serve without that extraordinary reach.
As the team continued chatting, Akashi sent out his sixth serve—once again a blisteringly fast Mach Serve. Leprince gathered all his focus, but all he saw was a faint afterimage. Before he could even move, the ball had already bounced out of the court.
"ACE! 40–40! Deuce!"
"You said earlier that you'd knock off my jacket?" Akashi's tone was calm, but the chill in his voice sent shivers down Leprince's spine.
For a moment, Leprince couldn't even speak. He just stood there, face stiff and silent. Akashi clearly had no intention of letting him off easily—he tossed the ball again and unleashed another Mach Serve. Leprince took a step to the right, but it didn't matter. He couldn't stop the point.
"ACE! Advantage Japan!"
"What's wrong? Can't handle something as simple as this serve? Then carry your arrogance with you... and let it be buried here on this court." Akashi's words were sharp and cold as he lifted another ball into the air.
"GAME! Japan! 1–0!"
No surprise there—after deliberately dropping three points, Akashi took the game with five straight Mach Serves. It was pure domination, a display of superiority so overwhelming that it pressed heavily on Leprince's chest.
"I feel like things are about to get even more interesting~ It's been a long time since someone had the guts to provoke Akashi-chan!" Tanegashima watched the match with a grin, eyes full of amusement.
"Tanegashima-senpai..." Tokugawa hesitated, unsure what to say.
"Relax," Irie said lightly, patting Tokugawa on the shoulder. "Now that Akashi-kun's on court, we can take it easy."
The second game began. Leprince stood at the baseline, face dark and serious. Across from him stood Akashi—someone his age, but whose very presence felt like a towering mountain. The aura he gave off rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, that of Camus, France's strongest player.
Leprince took a deep breath, forcing down his anxiety. Gripping his racket tight, he focused on the ball in his hand. With a strong toss and a powerful downward swing, he smashed his serve like a cannonball, blasting it toward Akashi's left baseline.
But when he looked up, his heart skipped. Akashi was already there—waiting exactly at the spot his serve would land, as if he had known its trajectory beforehand. As the ball bounced, Akashi swung smoothly, returning it with pinpoint precision.
Leprince's eyes widened. He dashed forward, repositioning himself to intercept. Drawing in a breath, he gathered every ounce of power he had and struck with full force. The ball screamed through the air, spinning violently as it flew over the net.
The instant it crossed the cord, Akashi's form vanished from sight. In the next blink, he was standing right at the net—his movement so fast it seemed almost ghostlike.
Leprince's pulse jumped. He pushed off the ground, trying to reach the net in time. But he didn't realize that every one of his movements—his stance, his breathing, even his next step—had already been completely read by Akashi. Under the gaze of the Emperor Eye, nothing he did could be hidden.
Akashi lifted his racket lightly. The ball met the strings with a dull thud, and all the force and spin Leprince had poured into it dissolved instantly. With a soft tap, Akashi sent the ball floating gently over the net, dropping slowly toward the court.
Panic flared in Leprince's chest. He lunged forward, reaching out to scoop the ball up before it touched the ground. It wasn't falling fast—he was sure he could reach it in time. But the instant his foot landed, his balance vanished. His body tilted backward uncontrollably.
Startled, Leprince tried to steady himself—but it was too late. With a loud thump, he fell hard on his back, legs sprawled out. The ball landed quietly beside him, rolled lazily, and came to rest at his feet.
Akashi looked down at him from above, calm and cold, a faint glimmer of mockery in his eyes.
"0–15!"
"In front of me, you can't even stand properly," Akashi said flatly, turning his back to Leprince as he walked back to the baseline.
Camus stood quietly at the side, his eyes fixed on Leprince. Seeing that disheveled figure, he couldn't help but sigh softly and shake his head. He had expected this outcome before the match even started—but he hadn't thought Leprince would be foolish enough to provoke Akashi beforehand.
"Disrespectful fool!" Leprince growled as he stood up, his face dark with humiliation. He had never felt such disgrace before, but since his strength couldn't match his opponent's, he could only swallow his frustration. Taking his position once more at the baseline, he tossed the ball high.
It was another sharp-angled, high-speed serve—so fast that its trajectory was barely visible. But for Akashi, whose Emperor Eye perceived every movement in advance, it was child's play.
Akashi turned slightly, his gaze locked on the incoming ball. With only a few easy sidesteps, he reached the perfect position. His racket swung lightly, and the ball streaked forward like a guided missile—straight between Leprince's legs—landing cleanly on the baseline before bouncing out of bounds.
"0–30!"
"Looks like Akashi's decided to give him a taste of his own medicine—scoring off returns," Kite said with a faint, cold smile.
"No... I think Akashi just doesn't want to waste time," Krauser replied dismissively.
"The fastest recorded single match in this World Cup so far is 29 minutes and 32 seconds, set by none other than France's Leprince. I wonder if Akashi-kun can break that record," Mitsuya said meaningfully from the Japan bench.
On court, Leprince served for the third time. To everyone's disbelief, the result was exactly the same—Akashi's return once again slipped right through his legs. Even Leprince's frozen posture matched the last play perfectly, as if time had repeated itself.
"0–40!"
"Damn it! I won't lose that easily!" Leprince shouted through clenched teeth, tossing up another ball.
But the result didn't change. Even though he now anticipated Akashi's shots, he couldn't stop them. Every slight feint Akashi made during his swing completely shattered Leprince's sense of timing.
"GAME! Japan! 2–0!"
As the third game began, Akashi abandoned the Mach Serve. He had a different plan now—to defeat his opponent using the very style his opponent was best at. That, he decided, would crush him both mentally and physically.
He tossed the ball lightly upward, and in that instant, a surge of immense spiritual energy burst out from within him. The force was vast and mysterious, shaking the entire court. When his racket struck the ball, that power merged with it, launching it toward Leprince like a bolt of pure pressure.
Leprince's eyes widened. He moved quickly to the expected drop point and prepared to hit back—but the moment he raised his head, a chilling sight froze him in place. Before his eyes appeared a pair of golden, majestic Emperor Eyes—deep, cold, and absolute. The sheer weight of Akashi's presence pressed down on him like an invisible wall.
"Mental Pressure!"
Even so, Leprince's body—trained through years of horseback tennis—responded instinctively. His muscle memory took over, allowing him to return the ball. But in the next second, Akashi's figure flashed across his vision, a cold gust brushing his side, and the sound of the ball landing echoed behind him.
"15–0!"
Akashi didn't let up. Without pause, he tossed the next ball and swung hard. The ball curved beautifully through the air, heading straight for Leprince.
This time, Leprince felt as though an invisible mountain had crashed down on his shoulders. His entire body stiffened under the crushing weight of Akashi's aura, his movements sluggish and heavy.
Still, he refused to yield. Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to move, sprinting toward the incoming shot. With every ounce of strength he had left, he swung in a desperate backhand. The ball's power had weakened under the pressure, but its speed remained formidable.
Yet, before it could even cross the net fully, Akashi was already there—waiting like a phantom. His counter came instantly. A clean backhand slash sent the ball flashing past Leprince, landing on the right baseline before shooting out of bounds.
"30–0!"
Under normal circumstances, Leprince's reflexes would have easily caught that ball. But under the overwhelming suppression of Akashi's Mental Pressure, every one of his physical and mental attributes had dropped sharply. All he could do now was watch helplessly as the points slipped away.