Prince of Tennis: Shocking! Hyotei's Demon King is a Yukimura fangirl!

Chapter 166 Tezuka Kunimitsu is just an opponent, not a wounded soldier

Shinobu pushed up his glasses, his eyes behind the lenses looking very serious. His fingers tapped lightly on his weighted wristbands, the rhythm gradually increasing.

Jiro clenched his fists, his reddish-brown curly hair trembling slightly in the wind. His eyes were fixed on Mochizuki Ryo, devoid of his usual drowsiness, filled only with an intensely focused light.

Her short, sun-red hair swayed slightly in the wind, her lips were pursed, and her chin was held high with confidence.

Shishido clutched the towel in his hand. His long hair was blown about by the wind, but he ignored it, only looking at Mochizuki Ryo with a calm gaze.

Feng stood next to Shishido, a smile playing on her lips, her usual gentle demeanor replaced by an anticipation that seemed to say, "I've been waiting for this for a long time."

Hiyoshi crossed his arms and said nothing, but his lips moved as he mumbled something. Even those nearby who didn't hear clearly knew it was something about "subordinates overthrowing superiors."

Kabaji's tall frame resembled a mountain. He looked at Mochizuki Ryo, then at Atobe, his gaze resolute. Takiginosuke stood beside him, gripping the data notebook tightly, his fingertips tracing the pages.

Atobe stood in the middle of the group, and after listening to Mochizuki Ryo's words, a burning fighting spirit shone in his icy blue eyes.

He walked over to Wangyue Ling's side.

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound echoed throughout the stadium.

Atobe withdrew his hand, his fingertips lightly tracing the beauty mark beneath his eye, his purplish-gray hair swaying wildly in the wind. He stood tall and straight, his chin slightly raised, exuding a kingly confidence and pride.

"Oh, yes, you heard that, right?"

"Only the championship trophy of the Kanto Tournament is worthy of Hyotei's splendor. The gold trophy of the National Tournament can only bear the name of Hyotei."

His voice was clear and bright, with his usual flair and arrogance: "From the moment I step onto the field tomorrow, I will win every match beautifully."

"Whether it's Seigaku, Rikkai, or any other opponent standing in Hyotei's way..."

He paused, a smug smile curving his lips, his tone radiating an air of dominance over the entire room.

"I will lead you step by step, crush them, and bring all the trophies back."

His gaze swept over each team member, his eyes sharp as an eagle's.

"Don't mess with me tomorrow. If we win, you can choose the venue for the victory celebration—a French restaurant, Wagyu beef barbecue, whatever you want. If we lose…"

Atobe snorted coldly, "Everyone will train twice as much during the summer vacation, twelve hours a day, until I am satisfied."

Upon hearing this, no one felt afraid; instead, they all laughed. Everyone was burning with determination; they didn't want to lose even a single point, let alone lose.

Atobe glanced around the room and asked in a deep voice, "Did everyone understand?"

"Understood!"

"Haven't you eaten? Speak louder! I can't hear you!"

"Our goal is the championship! Our belief is to be invincible!"

Everyone was shouting, their voices growing louder and more unified, converging into a deafening wave that echoed across the stadium.

"We will fight with all our might to win every single game!"

"I will give it my all!"

"I will stand on the highest podium!"

……

Finally, everyone shouted in unison, the sound rising higher and higher, echoing throughout the tennis court and even reaching the streets outside the school.

"Hyotei is the winner!"

"We are the winners!"

Their voices carried an indomitable spirit, a desire for victory, and the passion that belongs to their age.

The setting sun shone on every young face, and sweat slid down their jawlines, dripping onto the plastic track and quickly evaporating.

Their eyes shone with an astonishing light, revealing ambition, resilience, and an unwavering belief in victory.

Two months of grueling training, all the sweat and exhaustion, the frustration of failing, and the resentment of being mocked during the draw—all these transformed into the motivation to push forward.

Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to shine on the field and build the pride of Hyotei.

After the line dispersed.

The players returned to their respective fields and spontaneously began extra training.

Some were practicing serves, some were practicing volleys, and some were rallies from the baseline. Everyone was more focused than usual. Those words seemed to have wound everyone up; everyone was gearing up, eager to perform well in tomorrow's match.

The setting sun bathed the entire stadium in an orange-red hue.

The boys' shadows were stretched long, cast on the grass like a huge painting that would never fade.

Sakaki Taro stood to the side, watching the group of spirited young men before him, a barely perceptible smile curving his lips upward. It was a faint smile, yet it carried genuine approval.

He glanced at Wang Yueling beside him, nodded slightly, picked up the coaching board, and turned to leave the court.

Atobe walked over to Mochizuki Ryo, crossed his arms, and looked at his teammates training on the field.

"You're quite good at getting people emotional."

He glanced at him sideways, his tone indifferent, but a hint of a smile played on his lips.

Wang Yueling was bending down to stroke Luna's fur. The kitten was nestled in his arms, already asleep, its little body bobbing up and down.

Hearing this, he smiled and looked up at Atobe: "I'm telling the truth. Only Rikkai is qualified to be our opponent."

"Quite the boast."

Atobe snorted but did not refute.

He glanced down at the sleeping Luna, hesitated for a moment, then reached out and gently touched the kitten's ear with his fingertip. It was soft and fluffy.

"Tomorrow's singles match is against Tezuka Kunimitsu of Seigaku." Atobe withdrew his hand, his tone regaining its seriousness. "What do you think my chances are?"

Wang Yueling looked up at him, her azure eyes filled with a smile: "Perfect."

Atobe paused for a moment, then burst out laughing.

He raised his hand and pressed the beauty mark at the corner of his eye, his tone full of confidence: "Hmm, you have good taste. Of course, I won't lose."

"But don't underestimate your opponent."

Mochizuki Ryo added, "Tezuka Kunimitsu's hand injury hasn't healed yet, but his Zero-Shiki short ball and Tezuka Zone are still quite formidable. Don't underestimate him."

Atobe raised an eyebrow: "Was Tezuka Kunimitsu's hand injured? How did you know?"

Wang Yueling blinked, playfully waved Luna's little paw, and said seriously, "My Luna told me. It has X-ray vision and can see hidden injuries on people's bodies."

Atobe's temple throbbed again: "Wang Yue Ling, you can fool others if you want, but you think you can fool me?"

Wang Yueling burst into laughter, waking Luna in his arms. She opened her eyes groggily, nuzzled his palm, and then closed her eyes again to continue sleeping.

"Okay, okay, I'm not teasing you anymore."

Wang Yueling stopped laughing, her tone becoming more serious. "Minister, you can't just go easy on your opponent because they're injured!"

Atobe looked up at him, his eyes sharp. "Hmph! How could I possibly do something so unglamorous? Once Tezuka Kunimitsu chooses to step onto the court, he is merely an opponent, not an injured player."

"I will find all his weaknesses and defeat him!"

Ryo Mochizuki nodded and continued, "If we beat Seigaku, the road ahead will be much easier. Once we make it to the finals, we can face Rikkai head-on."

Atobe nodded, his gaze fixed on the net in the distance. Sunlight fell upon him, outlining the boy's tall and straight features.

"That's natural."

He spoke softly, his tone filled with an air of unwavering confidence, "I will personally bring the championship trophy back."

Holding Luna in his arms, feeling the warmth of the kitten in his embrace, and listening to Atobe's words, his azure eyes were filled with a sense of melancholy.

This light pierced through the depths of seriousness; it was a light of unwavering certainty.

Like moonlight.

Like the name of the little black cat in his arms.

Luna.

moon.

The moon is always brightest when it's darkest.

Wang Yueling muttered under her breath, "rien ne peut nous arrêter. (Nothing can stop us!)"