Challenge

"You think you can challenge us, you little punk who's been trained in the camp?"

"Gunfire Negotiation!"

Bang!

At the same time, accompanying this arrogant shriek was the powerful sound of a ball being struck.

After a muffled thud, it didn't sound like a tennis ball hitting the ground; rather, it sounded more like someone was thrown into the air and crashed to the ground.

Then, the screams finally arrived.

"Get up! Since you dared to challenge me, you can't fall now, amidst the chaotic gunfire!"

Bang!

"Ah..."

"Yota, stop playing."

Kitahara Sousuke stood to the side with his arms crossed, looking helpless, and said, "These lowlifes who hang around the base are all ignorant fools. Why are you taking them so seriously?"

"Tch! Bah!"

He spat lightly.

Katsumura Yota stopped stomping and stood up, looking at the figure lying on the ground opposite him with disdain.

"My interest had only just begun to build, but I didn't expect this prey to be unable to even amuse me."

Upon hearing Katsumura Yota's words, the man lying face down on the ground opposite him became even more terrified.

"What's there to expect from these people? However, I did manage to glean some interesting things from them..."

"Oh? What is it?"

"There seems to be an interesting little guy inside the base..."

"Little guy, did he participate in this hunt?"

Kitahara Sousuke shook his head. "I don't know, but I heard from them that he's already made it to court number three and qualified."

"Hey, interesting... Let's go find him."

Upon hearing this, a fierce glint flashed in Katsumura Yota's eyes, as if he wanted to appear before Saeki Muneyoshi immediately with Kitahara Sousuke.

"Seniors, if I'm not mistaken, you don't need to look for me anymore. I've come to you. Let's have a fight!"

"Um?"

The two people who were about to leave were interrupted by this sudden sound.

Katsumura Yota stopped in his tracks, his narrow eyes filled with a sinister glint. He hadn't expected anyone to challenge him.

"Heh heh, did I go too easy on them just now? Another prey has come to my doorstep?"

He grinned menacingly, then squinted and turned to look.

"You're that brat they were talking about?!"

Kitahara Sousuke's focus differed from Katsumura Yota's; he had caught the meaning behind Muneyoshi's words.

Standing at the other end of this simple sports field, Muneyoshi wore a gentle smile.

Hearing Kitahara Sousuke's somewhat surprised tone, he nodded firmly.

"I heard that the seniors wanted to come find me, so I came on my own. Who wants to go first?"

Along the way, Muneyoshi saw many figures fighting against the First String, and he would pause slightly each time.

The more he looked, the more disappointed he became. He had originally thought that the U-17 training camp's First String would be vastly different in strength from the others.

I never expected that these third-graders would be so incompetent.

The most formidable opponent was the one Tōno Atsukyō chose, number 11.

Even among the eleven, their strength only barely surpassed the top level in the country; that is, when they used Execution Method, their strength was still quite respectable.

It was only then that he remembered that Japan today was not three years from now. Back then, the third-year students were the same group from Byōdōin, and they were only first-year students now.

Because of Byōdōin's defeat, the first-year students had not yet truly begun to seize power.

These people, whom Mifune Nyudo called "miscellaneous fish," still occupy the majority of seats.

Based on the strength of that group three years from now, Muneyoshi could at most challenge opponents ranked below tenth.

But nowadays, it seems that apart from the top five, everyone else can be challenged at their discretion.

"No. 8, No. 7, I hope your abilities won't disappoint me!"

"Kimijima- senpai, I'll leave number seven to you. I like the number 8."

Ignoring the extremely unpleasant expressions on the faces of the two men, Muneyoshi called out to the dense forest behind him.

"Saeki- kun, my negotiations haven't even begun and you've already exposed me... But I like the number seven, Kitahara-senpai, please!"

Wearing a training camp uniform jacket, Kimijima Ikuto emerged from the forest and addressed Kitahara Sousuke, who was standing to the side.

"NO.10, Kimijima, you've already taken this badge? In that case, I'll take it back!"

With the departure of the two, only Saeki Muneyoshi and Katsumura Yota remained on the court.

Katsumura Yota glanced at the direction Kitahara and the other two had left before walking to the center of the court and standing in front of Muneyoshi.

His towering figure suddenly cast a large shadow in front of Muneyoshi.

"Kid, take back what you said now, and I might spare you trouble, otherwise..."

"Number 3 Court, Saeki Muneyoshi, nice to meet you."

Without further ado, Muneyoshi helped the senior player from court number three, whom he had only met a few times, off the court and stood proudly on the court.

"Very well, I hope your tennis is as hard as your mouth." Katsumura Yota glanced at him with his narrow eyes and said in a cold tone:

"Also, let me give you some 'guidance': making a name for yourself in the training camp is nothing to brag about. If you hang out with those small fry for too long, you'll end up being one of them."

"Let me patiently teach you what world tennis is all about!"

"And how did someone like you manage to climb to court number three? The training base is full of underage players like you these days, you're practically dragging down the standard of our U-17 team!"

Katsumura Yota seemed to have a lot of resentment, and as soon as he opened his mouth, he expressed his dissatisfaction with the base's current emphasis on lower grades and neglect of them, the upper grades.

They included all the first-year high school students, their arrogance was extreme.

Muneyoshi felt a surge of displeasure at Zongyan's arrogant demeanor, but a hint of joy still flashed in his eyes.

Standing at the net, just a step away from Muneyoshi, Katsumura Yota displayed such a performance, his excitement almost barely contained.

This is clearly highly abnormal.

He didn't realize that he had already begun to be influenced by Muneyoshi's spirit.

After witnessing Tōno Atsukyō's battle, Muneyoshi's inner turmoil became increasingly difficult to suppress, and various negative emotions continued to emanate from his body.

Katsumura Yota's mental strength didn't seem very strong, Muneyoshi easily used his mental strength to plant a hidden seed in his body.

Negative emotions kept growing in his heart.

"Number 8, I hope you'll be a useful tool."

A glint of light flashed in Muneyoshi's eyes, and he began to see this hunt as an opportunity.

After successfully absorbing the potential he had gained, his strength attribute grew once again, and he was now eager to find a suitable target to support his growth.

The person before you is the result of your choice.

"I'm very sorry, but I've never been a purely kind person with a weak heart..."

"For or against?"

"Just!"

The racket spun on the somewhat uneven ground before slowly falling to the ground.

"Heh, looks like luck isn't on your side either."

Picking up his racket, Katsumura Yota grinned maliciously, "Kid, challenging me comes at a price!"

The trials of the expedition and the constant setbacks gradually instilled a lot of resentment in him.

After glancing once more at the incredibly excited Katsumura Yota, Muneyoshi silently walked back to the back of the field.

As he walked, Muneyoshi confidently said, "Then let's give it a try."

Ignoring the other party's fierce aura, Muneyoshi exuded a calm and composed demeanor.

"Very well, I'll let you know. Like I said, I hope your tennis is as hard as your mouth!"

Katsumura Yota Katsumura's ferocious face froze. Under the influence of Muneyoshi's mental energy, he felt as if there was a pent-up feeling in his chest, and he wouldn't feel at ease until he released it.

Swish!

He flicked his arm upwards, sending the tennis ball flying straight up. Then, he leaped high into the air, slamming the dark gray racket down from behind his head.

"Prepare to die, you brat!"

Bang!

He powerfully struck the tennis ball that had been tossed into the air.

The surveillance cameras kept flashing, and the coaching staff in the small dark room had also heard Katsumura Yota's shouting and were now discussing the matter.

"Sigh! These senior high school students are really hard to manage... Their resentment has accumulated to such a deep level..."

Saito Itaru scratched his head helplessly.

"I never expected that the First String would be so averse to being stripped of power. If reforms aren't implemented quickly, what will become of the First String?"

Takuetsue Ryuji was also very troubled.

Kurobe shook his head and said, "In the end, it's because our foundation isn't strong enough. Look at the top-ranked teams in the world, which one is like us?"

"Fortunately, we have a group of excellent first-year students, and now this group has matured. This reshuffling will bring about a revolution in the training camp!"

P. S.: "Please vote with monthly tickets!"