Jin, excited to try out his new skill, barreled downstairs, grabbed his racquet and a few tennis balls, and plowed through the front door with a shout.
"I'm heading out to hit! Be back soon!"
He sprinted toward the local park, just five minutes from his house. Nestled like an island surrounded by homes, the park was familiar and comforting. One side held a colorful playground filled with slides and mysterious climbing contraptions no one ever seemed to know the names of. Next to it sat a small pavilion with shaded benches and an attached bathroom. Behind that stretched a full-size soccer field that swallowed most of the open space.
At the center of it all sat the basketball court, paint bright like it was applied recently, tightly hugged by a single public tennis court.
"Thank god, the tennis court's free," Jin muttered with relief.
He walked over, pushed open the slightly rusted gate, and stepped onto the hard blue surface. He dropped his balls at the baseline and took a breath.
Back when Jin was nineteen, his tennis wasn't flashy. His groundstrokes were shaky, his volleys unreliable, and his footwork... inconsistent to say the least. Yet despite those shortcomings, he'd still managed to win matches and a decent amount of them.
Why?
Game sense. Jin's tennis IQ was razor sharp. He almost always made the optimal shot choice, forcing his opponents into harder and riskier plays. But even more than that, there was one secret weapon that had carried him through countless battles:
His serve.
A strong serve is like holding a loaded gun at the start of every point. It sets the tone, puts pressure on the opponent, and lets you control the rhythm of play for half the game. That's why, out of all the skills he could've picked, Jin had chosen Serve Rhythm.
A more fluid motion. A consistent toss. Higher first-serve percentage. For a Common-tier skill, it was crazy value.
Jin rolled his shoulders and stepped up to the deuce side (right side) of the court, preparing for his favorite weapon, the flat serve. Pure speed. No spin. Maximum impact.
"Man… it's been so long," he whispered.
He set his stance: left foot forward, parallel to the baseline, angled slightly to the right. His hips turned toward the opposite service box. He gripped the racquet in a continental grip, like holding a hammer just like his old Coach used to drill into him.
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.
He checked the ball's feel, just like always, then inhaled deeply.
Toss.
He raised his left hand, gently placing the ball in the air in front of him. As it rose, he bent his knees and rotated his torso, loading tension through his entire frame. The racquet dropped behind his head, ready to strike.
At the apex of the toss, Jin exploded upward.
Legs fired. Core coiled. Racquet snapped forward as his arm pronated at full speed.
Fwish—THWUNK!
"Huh?"
The ball rocketed off his strings like a missile straight over the fence and into the middle of the basketball court nearby, interrupting a pickup game mid-play.
"YO!"
"Watch it, man!"
A couple of kids ducked and looked over in surprise as the tennis ball bounced past them.
Jin winced. "Oops."
He jogged over sheepishly, offering a small wave of apology.
"Sorry! First one of the day!"
The boys grumbled but tossed the ball back. Jin caught it, grinning despite himself.
"Okay," he muttered. "Little too much juice."
But inside, he was buzzing. That serve had felt pretty good, like his movements were correctly fitting into place.
"Serve Rhythm… yeah, this one's legit," he said with a smirk.
"Even though it was my first serve, I felt my body respond way better than I expected," Jin thought, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Give me a few more sessions and I might actually be decent again."
He kept practicing, moving with more purpose now. After a few minutes, he switched to the ad side (left side) of the court to get a feel for both service angles.
By the time he'd hit over a hundred serves, something clicked.
The rhythm of his toss.
The timing of his jump.
The crack of the ball against his strings.
It was all starting to fall into place.
His first-serve percentage was hovering around 40%, which, for someone restarting from scratch, was incredibly solid. Even better, his mechanics had improved drastically. The transition from his loading stance to the explosive upward motion felt smoother and more controlled with every rep.
As the sun began to dip behind the rooftops, making the balls a bit less visible, Jin finally called it a day. He picked up the scattered balls, zipped them into his bag, and slung it over his shoulder.
"Not bad at all," he said, heading toward home.
While walking, he opened up ServeOS just to check his progress—mostly out of curiosity.
[STATUS]
SERVE: F+ ○○○○○ → SERVE: D ○○○○○
His eyes widened.
"Whoa… two whole sub-ranks in one day?!"
He grinned.
"That's my first D-rank technical stat! No wonder everything felt so clean out there."
It made sense. With the Serve Rhythm skill giving him that extra consistency, and his past-life muscle memory slowly reawakening, his serves were bound to shine.
He skipped the last stretch home feeling like a maiden who got her first kiss, heart light and body buzzing from effort. After a quick shower, he padded into the living room, towel still draped around his neck.
On the couch, he saw his dad and older brother Kai intensely focused on the TV, controllers in hand.
"Stop hitting me with the Red Shells, Dad!" Kai shouted, squirming in frustration.
Jin grinned. "What, Mario Kart?"
Kai looked over. "Perfect timing. Team up with me. This old man's got it out for me."
"I'm literally playing fair," their dad replied with a smirk. "You just keep driving off the road."
Jin laughed and plopped down between them, grabbing the spare controller. "Alright, let's even the playing field."
The living room filled with the sounds of engines roaring, shells flying, and competitive trash talk. Kai leaned into Jin as they tag-teamed races, laughing and groaning with every twist of the track. Their dad wasn't backing down either, landing absurd snipes and celebrating every victory like it was a world championship.
The three of them were fully locked in, laughter echoing through the house.
Until a voice cut through the chaos like a thunderclap.
"Boys! It's almost bedtime! Can you not shake the entire house with your screaming?"
It was Mom.
Silence. Then a muffled snort from Kai. Jin bit his lip to keep from laughing. Their dad quickly reached for the volume.
"Sorry, honey!" he called out sheepishly.
Jin leaned back on the couch, eyes still on the screen trying his best. For now he would just enjoy the company of his family.