The ball streaked toward him again, a comet tearing across glass.
Ren's heart screamed, Too fast—! But his eyes stayed on Toru's wrist. That tiny dip before the toss. The predictable flick.
There!
His racket moved on time. The impact jolted his arm, stinging through the cheap grip. But the ball actually rebounded—angled low, skidding off the side wall.
The twins' smirks cracked. Minoru lunged late. The ball kissed the floor twice before he reached it.
The referee priest raised his hand.
"Fifteen–All."
Silence.
Then—uproar.
"EHHHH?!"
"He touched it?!"
"No way that scrub returned Toru's serve!"
Some laughed harder, but not cruelly—startled, nervous. Others booed. A few actually cheered, thin voices lost under the roar.
Ren's chest heaved. His palm stung. His knees shook. But he couldn't stop the grin breaking across his face.
I did it. I actually... I scored a point.
On the sidelines, a commentator's voice cut through the noise. Ayaka Kisaragi, the nation's most famous padel announcer, leaned forward at her mic.
"Ladies and gentlemen... the Substitute Messiah has returned a serve!" she cried, voice electrified. "Clumsy, yes. Awkward, yes. But make no mistake—this was a point earned!"
The crowd swelled again, half in cheers, half in jeers.
Ren's ears burned, but this time the heat felt... different. Not shame. Something sharper.
Next serve. Minoru tossed the ball. His form smooth, clinical. Ren stared, searching for a tell.
The status window flickered:
[Opponent: Minoru Minase]
Serve Power: 69
Rally Control: 62
Reflex Speed: 74
⚠ Weakness: Delay in foot landing.
Ren squinted. Delay...?
The serve exploded. His eyes snapped to Minoru's feet. One heel hit half a beat late. Ren swung early—too early. The ball clipped the edge of his racket and flew out.
"Thirty–Fifteen."
The stadium roared with laughter again.
Ren's smile faltered. His arm ached. Okay. Not perfect. Not a genius. Still me.
But then the window blinked again:
[EXP +3 — Failure processed.]
Skill Progress: Weak Spot Vision Lv.1 → 34% → 37%.
Ren's breath caught. Even failure counts.
He clenched the racket. Sweat dripped into his eyes. "Fine... then I'll fail forward. Again. And again. Until you can't laugh anymore."
The crowd's chants started to shift.
"Hopeless!"
"Messiah!"
"Hopeless Messiah!"
Ren barked out a laugh, wild, unsteady. "Guess that's me, huh?"
The referee priest's hand rose. "Play continues!"
The twins exchanged a glance. Their smirks were gone.
Toru muttered, "This substitute... he's learning mid-match?"
Minoru's eyes narrowed. "Then let's crush him before he stands."
The next serve rose high—higher than before. The air cracked.
Ren's racket trembled in his grip. His eyes locked.
Come on... show me the weakness.