Just then, a figure slowly walked forward. It was the freshman representative, Keigo Atobe. Many in the crowd recognized Atobe and intelligently made way for him. Atobe swept his gaze across the second and third-year regulars before him. One reason he joined Ice-Imperial Academy was that they had reached the National Tournament semifinals last year. However...
"What a bunch of trash, Ice-Imperial Academy's second and third-year regular seniors!"
Having participated in the U-14 training camp in England, he had developed a pair of eyes that could pierce through anything. From these guys, Atobe couldn't sense even a shred of the "presence" a true strong contender should possess. Even reaching the National Tournament semifinals seemed nothing more than mediocre to him.
"You brat, what the heck did you just say?!"
A second-year student standing behind Hikaru Minamoto stepped forward, fuming, and reached out, intending to teach Keigo Atobe a good lesson.
"Hm?"
Atobe raised an eyebrow, slowly stepped forward, stood before the second-year, lifted his chin, and haughtily declared, "Are you talking to this Great One?!"
Atobe's Unyielding Presence
From a young age, Atobe had received a high-class aristocratic education from his family, naturally carrying an unmistakable air of nobility.
"You..."
The second-year still wanted to say something, but Hikaru Minamoto stopped him first.
"This junior, if you wish to join the tennis club, please sign up over there."
Hikaru Minamoto's attitude was very polite. As a third-year student this year, he knew better than anyone the status of Atobe's name within Ice-Imperial Academy. To put it bluntly, if Atobe wanted others to leave, even the school officials wouldn't dare utter a single "no."
"Tennis club?"
Atobe surveyed the appearance of the tennis club, then turned his head back to Hikaru Minamoto, seemingly asking in confusion, "Are you the official members of Ice-Imperial Academy's tennis club right now?"
Upon hearing this, the official Ice-Imperial Academy tennis club members behind Hikaru Minamoto all puffed out their chests. Some had just been promoted to official members, and some had even participated in the National Tournament alongside Tsukimitsu Ochi. More or less, they all possessed the arrogance of "strong contenders."
"Kid, it's good you know. Our Ice-Imperial Academy tennis club achieved the excellent result of National Tournament semifinals last year. Don't you dare be so ungrateful."
It was that same second-year student who spoke again. His name was Ino Nagakawa. He had spent a year picking up tennis balls in the Ice-Imperial Academy tennis club and had finally waited for the third-years to graduate, eventually becoming a regular. He hadn't even had a chance to show his true potential yet, and he certainly didn't want to fall into obscurity like this. Today, they had a practice match scheduled with Yamabuki, one of the Kanto region's top four teams. These first-year students, even if they were the young master of the Atobe Zaibatsu, would still be obediently picking up balls in the Ice-Imperial Academy tennis club.
"National Tournament semifinals! Hahahaha..."
Upon hearing this, Atobe couldn't help but burst into laughter. For a moment, everyone's gaze was fixed on the young master of the Atobe Zaibatsu.
"Not even the champions or runner-ups. Such a disgraceful result. I truly don't know how you have the nerve to even speak of it."
Atobe slightly reined in the smile on his face, looking at Hikaru Minamoto with a playful expression, and calmly stated, "You must be the spokesman for this bunch, aren't you?"
"What do you mean by that?"
Even Hikaru Minamoto, who usually had a good temper, couldn't suppress his anger upon hearing these words.
"Answer this Great One, yes or no!" Atobe's tone carried an unquestionable authority.
"Yes."
For some reason, Hikaru Minamoto couldn't resist his words and frankly admitted his identity.
"Let's have a match, this Great One wants to see if there are any decent tennis players in this club."
Atobe's gaze swept over Hikaru Minamoto. He put down his tennis bag, took out a racket, and then walked towards the nearest court. The surrounding Ice-Imperial Academy members simply couldn't stand this arrogant fellow. Hikaru Minamoto also couldn't help but ask, "Why should I play against you?"
Atobe slowly stopped, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward: "You don't have to play if you don't want to, but from today onwards, what I say goes in the Ice-Imperial Academy tennis club."
"You..."
Ino Nagakawa truly couldn't hold back anymore and reached out, intending to severely punish the other party. However, Hikaru Minamoto blocked him with a raised hand, a hint of coldness in his eyes: "This is the tennis club, Nagakawa! If you make such an outrageous move again, get out of the tennis club."
Hikaru Minamoto, after all, was an admirer of Tsukimitsu Ochi. He had learned almost everything about Ochi's attitude towards the tennis club, and among them, the one thing he absolutely could not tolerate was the use of violence.
A Glimmer of Change
"Oh?"
Upon hearing this, a boy with dark blue hair in the distance had a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
"Things are starting to get interesting."
The dark-haired boy's eyes, with a hint of curiosity, gleamed through his glasses. He had traveled all the way from Osaka, drawn to Ice-Imperial Academy partly by its reputation and partly because his family's work had transferred them to Tokyo. If not for his family's circumstances, he might have enrolled in Shitenhoji like his cousin.
"Hey, what's getting interesting?" A hurried voice came from the other end of the phone.
"Nothing, just saw an interesting guy." The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow, looking at the court not far away through his lenses. "Talk to you later, Kenya~~"
With that, the boy casually hung up the phone, picked up his tennis bag, slung it over his shoulder, and slowly walked towards the court.
"Senior, this is my application form."
Kamikawa glanced towards the court, handing his application form to the second-year senior in front of him.
"Hm~ Alright, alright..."
The other person simply accepted the application form casually, his attention almost entirely focused on Atobe. A first-year student challenging a senior—this was something that hadn't happened last year, the year before, or even further back. What exactly did this first-year want to do?
Kamikawa looked towards the court, tilted his head slightly, and quietly said, "The revolution has begun, Tezuka."
Upon hearing this, Tezuka, standing beside him, silently nodded, a glimmer of fervor in his eyes.
First-year middle school students were not allowed to play in matches; this was a rule in the middle school tennis clubs of various schools. But rules are meant to be broken. If Tezuka were to go an entire first year without playing a single match, he wouldn't be able to stand it. Even at Seigaku, Tezuka tried his best to reform things, and the result was... before the reforms could take hold, his arm was first ruined by those seniors with terrible talent.
Atobe's Dominance
Pow!!
The vibrant yellow tennis ball slid past Hikaru Minamoto's feet, violently striking the concrete wall. Hikaru Minamoto stood motionless on the court, his pupils dilated, his eyes unfocused.
"Victory goes to Atobe."
"Score: 6-0."
Hikaru Minamoto, realizing what had happened, felt as if all strength had drained from his body, breathing heavily.
"No... It can't be!"
The Ice-Imperial Academy regulars behind him were filled with disbelief, their bodies trembling uncontrollably. One of them even stepped forward directly. "It's my turn next. The vice-captain has already used up a lot of stamina today; your victory isn't honorable!"
Upon hearing this, Atobe held his racket in one hand, placing the other hand on his face. Through the gaps in his fingers, he scanned the faces of these so-called Ice-Imperial Academy regular seniors.
"No need for such trouble. You all can come at me one by one. As long as this Great One loses even a single small game, then this Great One will no longer concern himself with the tennis club matters!"
"How about it? This Great One is being very merciful to you, aren't I?!"
Atobe's words were brimming with provocation. In his eyes, these senior students were merely relying on their age, having only eaten a year or two more food. He had seen too many people who used age as an excuse when he played tennis in England.
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