The moment Byoudouin first saw Medanoré, he had already been considering whether to conceal part of Japan's true strength. After all, this was still just the group stage. He planned to keep Akutsu as a hidden card. As for Tezuka, there was nothing to worry about—during the exhibition match, Tezuka had probably only used fifty percent of his full power.
As for Byoudouin himself, although he lost to Duke during the previous World Cup in France due to injury, his earlier performances, his overseas expeditions, and his years of wandering across the world had made his name widely known. By now, every country had already gathered enough data to analyze his general strength and playing style.
But something had changed inside Byoudouin. Once, he believed he alone had to shoulder Japan's march through the world stage. Now, however, with someone even stronger—Akashi Seijurō—and Oni Juujirou who had achieved a breakthrough, that crushing pressure had finally eased.
With that burden lifted, Byoudouin's fighting spirit had fully awakened. He decided to step onto the court himself—after all, he'd been holding back ever since the start of the World Cup.
As Byoudouin and Keith walked into the court, Akashi watched the screen from the player hall, thoughts moving rapidly in his mind. Then, stepping aside, he quietly pulled out his phone and made a call.
Meanwhile, on the Japan team bench, Atobe received Akashi's call. The two spoke briefly. No one knew the exact details, but judging from Atobe's amused smile, Akashi had clearly mentioned something that caught his interest.
On court, Byoudouin and Keith met at the net, neither making any gesture of respect. Just as the referee was about to announce the coin toss, Keith looked at Byoudouin coldly and said, "I'll give you one piece of advice. You'd better surrender now—otherwise, you'll never be able to hold a racket again."
"Hahahaha! That's hilarious! Never hold a racket again, huh? Sounds perfect to me—but the one that'll end up like that will be you, kid!" Byoudouin's eyes gleamed with interest. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to throw such words at him before a match.
"You'll regret this. Tennis... victory... teammates... bonds... honor—none of it means anything! So why not destroy it all instead?" Keith's eyes glinted with a hint of madness.
Keith Joshua.
"Destruction, huh? Looks like you might be my kind of opponent. In that case, I'll just crush you completely!" Byoudouin's lips curved into a savage grin.
The referee, unable to stand their tension any longer, quickly urged them to start. Japan caught a lucky break this time—the toss went their way, and Byoudouin won the serve.
"One set match! Japan to serve first!"
Byoudouin gave a sharp, cold laugh as he walked to the baseline. Without hesitation, he picked up a ball, tossed it high, and shouted, "Come on then, English brat who wants to destroy everything!"
His racket struck down with overwhelming force, the impact so strong that wind pressure tore up clouds of dust from both sides of the baseline. The ball blasted forward like a shockwave, smashing straight toward the opposite court.
Byoudouin's serve.
Keith's eyes narrowed. He could feel the terrifying power behind the serve. Sliding smoothly into position, a flash of blue light flickered across his racket, and in the next instant, he sent the serve hurtling back.
But Byoudouin was already at the front court. Seeing the returning ball, he didn't hesitate—his forehand whipped forward, smashing through the lingering haze like a cannon shell aimed straight at Keith.
Then Byoudouin's expression suddenly shifted in shock.
Before his eyes, a massive blue energy sphere materialized around Keith. It compressed rapidly, shrinking tighter and tighter until it was fully absorbed into his racket. Keith swung hard.
The deafening crack echoed across the stadium as the ball shot forward, radiating pure destruction. Byoudouin felt like he had collided with an iron wall. His body was flung backward, completely out of control.
"Gravitational Pull!"
"0–15!"
When the dust over Byoudouin's half of the court finally settled, everyone saw him crouched near the back wall, wiping his face with his right hand while his racket lay on the ground beside him.
Byoudouin hit by Gravitational Pull.
"So that's your tennis, huh? You're making me more and more interested, kid," Byoudouin said, picking up his racket again, a fierce light blazing in his eyes.
"I told you you'd regret it. Now it's too late even if you want to surrender," Keith said coldly, his eyes expressionless as he stared straight at Byoudouin.
"The first rally's already that intense? Looks like this match is gonna be fun~" Tanegashima whistled from the bench, his tone slightly excited.
"Hah? Are you blind? Byoudouin just lost that point—and in such a sorry state too!" Atobe glanced at the amused Tanegashima with an exasperated look.
"Relax~ that kind of hit doesn't even count as warm-up for the boss," Duke replied with a grin.
Byoudouin returned to the baseline, immediately tossing up another ball. Once again, it was a fierce, high-powered serve aimed straight at Keith. The trajectory wasn't tricky at all—it was a direct challenge.
Keith understood exactly what Byoudouin meant. His gaze turned even colder as his right arm tightened, muscles bulging, and he smashed a powerful return. The ball tore through the air, slicing through the dust, heading straight back at Byoudouin.
"Good! Then I'll let you experience Japan's way of saying hello!" Byoudouin grinned wildly, swinging his racket down with ferocious energy.
The ball flew back across the net—and the moment it crossed, it began to swell rapidly, expanding until it became a massive sphere that covered nearly half the court, bearing down on Keith like a meteor.
"Japanese Technique!"
But Keith's face didn't change at all. Around him, another massive surge of blue qi gathered and condensed onto his racket. Without hesitation, he swung.
The powerful blast of compressed energy struck the giant ball, instantly shrinking it back to normal size. Then, with a thunderous crack, Keith's racket smashed through it, sending it back across the net. The ball, now wrapped in a dense transparent layer of compressed qi, blasted toward Byoudouin like a wall of force.
Byoudouin braced himself, gripping his racket with both hands and trying to block it head-on. But he couldn't hold his ground—the next instant, he was sent flying once again by the crushing force of Gravitational Pull.
"0–30!"
"You've got to be kidding me! Who the hell is that England player? I've never even heard of him before! To be able to overpower Byoudouin of all people—this is insane!" a scout from another country muttered in disbelief from the stands.
Even Japan's bench and the player lounge were filled with shock. If the first point could be dismissed as Byoudouin being unprepared, then the second one left no doubt—Keith had overwhelmed him through sheer strength.
"The qi sphere really has that much power? Unreal..." Mōri said, eyes fixed on the screen, still struggling to believe what he was seeing.
"According to my data, in the Eastern land of China, their mastery of qi has reached incredible levels. It's said that many professional-level players there can store qi within their bodies and release it at will, temporarily pushing their physical limits far beyond normal," Mitsuya explained calmly.
"What a mysterious country~ maybe after the World Cup, I'll go there for a visit," Niō murmured thoughtfully after hearing Mitsuya's words.
"Oh? Niō-kun, are you planning to follow Byoudouin-senpai's example and travel the world?" Yukimura asked with a gentle smile.
Niō only chuckled at the question, offering no real reply. But Akashi, who overheard their exchange, suddenly recalled something—after the World Cup, Niō did travel the world in the original timeline, abandoning his illusion style to find his own true path in tennis.
Back on court, Byoudouin showed no anger despite losing two points in a row. Instead, a faint smile spread across his face. After testing Keith's power firsthand, he had already gauged the boy's strength. Taking a deep breath, he stepped to the baseline, golden light beginning to gather in his left hand.
Byoudouin gathering energy.
"Be destroyed, English brat!" Byoudouin roared as he swung his racket down with all his might.
The ball turned into a blazing golden sphere, roaring across the court like a comet. The shockwave rippled the net violently as it passed, and before Keith could react, the ball had already landed, bounced high—and brushed past his face.
A deafening explosion followed. Screams erupted from the stands as the wall behind Keith erupted into a massive crater, fragments of concrete scattering in all directions.
"Glowing Shot—Destruction!"
"Ace! 15–30!"
Keith turned, his pupils contracting sharply. His brain raced to process what had just happened, trying to make sense of the impossible scene. Then, a sharp sting bloomed across his face, followed by a thin stream of warm, crimson blood trickling down his cheek.
"How's that taste of destruction you wanted? Next time, it won't just be a scratch, kid!" Byoudouin said coldly, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light.