The whistle sliced through the air in the gym.
Although that predicted block had maxed out my Aggro, the game still had to go on. The score was now 13–10, and we were temporarily in the lead.
It was Tsukishima Kei's turn to serve.
He ambled to the baseline, spinning the volleyball in his hand. He looked like an office worker forced to work overtime, with "I want to go home" written all over him. He didn't try any killer serve like Kageyama. He simply tossed the ball into the air and swung.
A perfectly ordinary overhand serve.
Moderate power, unremarkable angle, safe landing spot. In a game, this would be a basic "white-quality" skill with no bonus effects. Its only real advantage was probably that it didn't use any mana.
"I got it!"
Hinata Shoyo shouted and dashed toward where the ball was headed. His receiving form was still wild; he basically just rammed into it with his body. The volleyball smacked against his arms with a sharp crack, then flew crookedly into the air.
The First Pass was off target.
"Sorry, Kageyama!"
Kageyama Tobio didn't even look back. He quickly adjusted his steps and charged toward the three-meter line to reach the ball.
Now.
My brain instantly switched into "bullet time."
After I'd blocked that last shot, Kageyama's mindset must have changed. He was an Elite Monster with an extremely strong sense of pride. After getting blocked by a rookie, he definitely wouldn't make the same mistake again right away. And with Hinata's pass only halfway there, the conditions for a quick attack were limited.
That ruled out the most dangerous option: Monster Quick Attack.
There were only two choices left: set Tanaka up for an adjustment attack, or go for a second touch.
I glanced at Kageyama's movements. His wrist was stiff; he didn't have the relaxed feel of someone about to make a Drop Shot.
Tanaka.
"Left!" I shouted, my body already reacting before my mind could catch up.
Sure enough, Kageyama had his back to the net as he sent the ball straight to the left wing. Tanaka Ryūnosuke was already in position for his approach, his delinquent face practically screaming, "Give me the ball!"
"Take this, you first-year brats!"
Tanaka leaped, his body arched back in midair, brimming with power.
Tsukishima Kei looked annoyed, but he reacted quickly, shuffling two steps to block the line. The bespectacled guy might have a sharp tongue, but his fundamentals as a middle blocker were solid. With those long arms held up, he really did look like a roadblock.
Tanaka visibly paused in midair.
He avoided Tsukishima's fingertips and snapped his wrist inward.
A cross-court shot!
"I've been waiting for that."
I was already in position. Based on Tanaka's previous spikes, when his line was shut down by a block, there was an 80% chance he'd force a sharp cross-court shot.
Prediction successful.
I lowered my center of gravity, clasped my hands together, and assumed a textbook digging position. As I watched the ball whistle toward me, I was already calculating the counterattack route after the receive.
As long as the angle was right, I could pop it up nice and easy.
Thump!
The volleyball slammed into my forearms.
But the smooth, steady rebound I'd expected never came.
The instant I touched the ball, I felt a strange sideways force. It wasn't coming straight at me—it had intense sidespin!
My brain had calculated the speed, trajectory, and impact force, but it had completely forgotten to account for the "coefficient of friction" and "angular momentum."
Holy crap...
The volleyball seemed to hit a spring. It shot along my arm to the right and slammed into the floor out of bounds.
"Nice one!"
Tanaka landed and pumped his fist, letting out a strange yell. "How's that? That's the authority of a senior! Don't think you can receive my shots just by using your brain!"
I looked at my reddened arms, the corner of my mouth twitching.
I got careless.
I'd memorized the theory inside and out, and the strategy guide had explained how to receive a spike. But it hadn't mentioned that these guys played with a physics engine that had special effects.
My brain said, I know this one. The answer is C.
My hands said, No, this is beyond the syllabus. The pencil's broken.
That was what people meant by "your execution can't keep up with your awareness." My proficiency was too low. I didn't have the muscle memory to make the fine adjustments needed for a ball with that much spin.
The score became 13–11.
"Don't worry about it." Tsukishima Kei passed by me and tossed out a casual remark. "It's not like anyone expected you to receive it."
"Shut up. I'm collecting data." I rubbed my wrist and shot back irritably. "That was a system-detection bug."
The game continued.
It was Hinata Shoyo's turn to serve.
He took a deep breath, so nervous he could barely hold the ball steady. Scoring just now had helped him regain a little confidence, but serving clearly wasn't his strong suit.
"Serve a good one!" Sawamura Daichi called from the sidelines.
Hinata tossed the ball and swung.
It made it over the net, but it was limp and posed little threat.
Yamaguchi Tadashi stepped forward and received it cleanly. He might not have had much presence, but his fundamentals were far better than mine, and his pass was excellent.
The ball flew toward the net.
I was in the setter's position now.
There was no helping it. Since this was a temporary team, we had to take turns filling in. I watched the ball coming toward me, several possible plays flashing through my mind.
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