The ball launched. Faster, heavier.
Ren's pupils shrank—then the world slowed.
Not really. But his eyes knew.
A flash in his vision: a ghost image of where the ball would land, half a second ahead.
Left wall, low bounce—!
His body moved, shaky but early. Racket swung—PAAK!—clean impact. The ball ricocheted perfectly off the side glass, kissing the line.
The crowd gasped.
"Fifteen–Love."
Ren straightened, chest heaving. Sweat stung his eyes, but his lips twitched upward. So this is Lv.2... seeing the play before it happens.
Across the net, Toru and Minoru froze for the first time. Their smirks gone.
The next serve.
Flash again—this time, high lob. Ren sprinted before Minoru even swung. His return clipped the frame, awkward, but stayed alive.
The twins lunged, volleyed hard. Another flash. Another ghost image.
Right corner smash incoming.
Ren dove, racket scraping glass, arm burning. He touched it, ball arcing high—ugly, desperate.
The twins pounced. Smash thundered down. The floor shook.
"Fifteen–All."
Ren lay sprawled on the court, chest hammering. Too much. I saw it, but my body... can't keep up.
The crowd laughed again, but uneasy this time.
Ayaka's voice sliced through:
"He predicted it. His reaction was too slow, but—did you all see that? He moved before the serve even left the strings!"
Rally after rally.
Ren stole points—ugly, scraping, but points.
Two. Then three. Then another on a fluke misread by the twins.
"Forty–Thirty."
The stadium wasn't laughing anymore. Gasps, murmurs, then chants—scattered but rising.
"Messiah! Messiah! Messiah!"
Ren's chest flared. They're actually... cheering? For me?
But the twins were predators, not prey.
Their eyes narrowed. Their coordination sharpened. They began serving in patterns, mixing spins, shifting toss angles.
Ren's vision flickered with predictions—too many, too fast. His body staggered, a step late, a swing off.
Ball after ball tore past him.
"Game, Minase twins. One–Love."
The scoreboard lit. The crowd exhaled in a single wave.
Ren hunched at the baseline, lungs on fire. His whole body screamed to quit. But the racket still glowed faintly, pulse syncing with his heartbeat.
So this is how it is... I can see the future, but only half a second. Not enough. Not yet.
He dragged himself upright. His grin was crooked, defiant.
"...Guess I'll just lose harder, then."
The referee priest's voice rang: "Second set continues!"
The twins prepared again, shadows long under the three suns.
And above them, the scoreboard flickered strange—just for Ren—displaying words only he could see:
[Hidden Condition Detected: Lose 50 Points → Unlock New Trait]
Ren's breath hitched. His grin widened.
ThenI'll lose until I win.