"What… what did you give Hirakoba to drink?"
Kai and the others imdiately turned to Ishikawa with a mix of shock and anger.
In response, Ishikawa calmly replied, "Like I said, just a regular drink. Nothing special."
"Also," he paused, then smiled at Kai, "you ntioned earlier that we could continue challenging each other. Since I just won, I shouldn't have to pay any extra fees, right?"
"Uh…"
Hearing Ishikawa's words, Kai and his group instinctively tensed up, their hair standing on end like startled cats.
*What a joke!*
*Compete against this terrifying guy?!*
But as Kai noticed the growing crowd of spectators around them, he realized that while this was dangerous, it was also an opportunity. If they could defeat this guy, it would definitely boost their reputation.
Moreover, the racket Ishikawa was using didn't seem to be of high quality. That last shot probably nearly broke it.
"Alright!"
After considering everything, Kai finally agreed.
As for Ishikawa, his goal wasn't to teach these small fries a lesson. He wanted to et the so-called "killer," the captain of Higa Chuu, Kite Eishirou, who had a significant presence in the original story.
Unfortunately, even after defeating all the Higa Chuu mbers, Kite still hadn't shown up.
"Whatever."
Looking at the Higa Chuu mbers lying scattered on the ground, Ishikawa shook his head. "Senpais, let's go."
"W-wait a second…"
At that mont, Hirakoba, who had recovered slightly, weakly called out, "Who… who are you guys?"
He didn't want to be beaten up without even knowing who his opponents were.
"Don't worry," Ishikawa glanced at him and smiled. "We'll et again at the Nationals."
"The Nationals…"
Hirakoba muttered to himself, watching their retreating figures, his gaze gradually hardening with determination.
---
"Ishikawa-kun," Ootori asked curiously after they left, "you said we'd et those guys at the Nationals?"
"Yeah," Ishikawa nodded. "If I'm not mistaken, they're mbers of Higa Chuu from Okinawa."
"Higa Chuu?"
Shishido raised an eyebrow. "The school that recently defeated last year's semifinalists, Shishigaku, and dominated Kyushu?"
"Exactly," Ishikawa confird.
"That's strange," Shishido frowned. "Even though Tachibana and Chitose left Shishigaku, their team shouldn't have lost to those guys, right?"
It was true. Hirakoba and Kai were strong, but the Kyushu tournant was a team event. Individual strength couldn't compensate for the overall team's weakness.
"It's simple," Ishikawa explained. "The captain of Higa Chuu, the one called the 'killer,' Kite Eishirou, wasn't there today."
"The killer?"
Ootori looked surprised. "A player with that kind of nickna?"
"Yes," Ishikawa continued. "Kite's tennis style is different from others. He's soone who will do anything to win. During the Kyushu tournant, he defeated the aces of various schools, leading Higa Chuu to dominate Kyushu."
"I see…"
The two nodded, their curiosity about Higa Chuu growing.
---
anwhile, shortly after they left, a boy with slicked-back hair, wearing a purple vest and glasses, approached the beach court with a racket in hand.
"Huh?"
As he got closer and saw his teammates lying on the ground, his expression darkened.
"Hirakoba," the boy, Kite Eishirou, the captain of Higa Chuu, asked in a low voice, "what happened here?"
"K-Kite…"
Seeing Kite, Hirakoba imdiately perked up, as if seeing a savior. "Three guys showed up and beat all of us."
"Three guys?"
Kite raised an eyebrow. "Explain in detail. Tell everything about the match."
Hirakoba then recounted the events.
"Hmm…"
After listening, Kite picked up the racket Ishikawa had used and examined it closely. A cold light reflected off his glasses. "With just this racket, he easily defeated all of you… Nationals, huh?"
"Hmph!"
"No matter who you are, if you dare to ss with , be prepared to face the consequences!"
Kite's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint.
---
That day, Ishikawa didn't return to the beach court. His goal had been mostly achieved. Although he hadn't t Kite, he had learned the application of the *Shukuchi* technique from the Higa Chuu mbers, greatly enhancing his *Enbu* footwork.
As for Kite, Ishikawa was confident they'd et at the Nationals. Even if Hyotei didn't draw Higa Chuu in the tournant, soone like Kite would definitely co looking for him.
As for Kite's mastery of the *Shukuchi* technique, with Ishikawa's current understanding of ancient martial arts, he already had a direction in mind.
Later, the three reunited with Atobe and the others. They explored the island's scenery, visited famous spots, and by evening, they had dinner. Atobe then invited everyone to karaoke, and they didn't sleep until 1 a.m.
The next day, Atobe organized a trip to so of the more distant islands to experience their local culture.
The sea was blue, the sky clear.
Sitting on the ferry, Ishikawa felt an unprecedented sense of relaxation.
"So this is what the ocean is like!"
Leaning back on the deck chair, Ishikawa stretched comfortably. His mind was at ease, and his spirit felt refreshed.
Basking in the warm sunlight, he seed to rge with his surroundings.
Then, a seagull landed on his shoulder and closed its eyes to rest.
This scene surprised the Hyotei mbers, but no one disturbed him. Ishikawa slept soundly until they arrived at the island.
---
"Huh?"
However, when Ishikawa woke up and felt the sea breeze and the change in the environnt, he suddenly said, "A storm is coming."
"What?"
Hearing this, Mukahi couldn't help but twitch his mouth. "A storm? In this weather?"
If it weren't for his usual respect for Ishikawa, he might have openly mocked him.
"Just be careful," Ishikawa didn't explain further. He simply said this and disembarked.
Later, under the guidance of a local tour guide, they explored the island's various sights.
To their delight, they discovered an open-air tennis court on the island.
Excited, they played a few matches.
The guide explained that the court had been around for decades. It was said to have been built by a renowned figure who taught martial arts and tennis on the island.
However, the locals weren't particularly talented in tennis, though they excelled in martial arts. So even created a new style by blending Okinawan ancient martial arts.
Later, this person took in a disciple, saying the boy had great tennis talent. After careful training, the disciple gained so fa in Japan and even went abroad, though he eventually disappeared.
Over a decade later, the man, now in his sixties, brought another young man to the island. This young man had long hair and would tie it up when playing tennis.
The guide reminisced, "Back then, his appearance shocked . He didn't look like the usual perverted, sneaky guy. Instead, he was like a sharp sword unsheathed!"
"Later, I heard he went overseas to play tennis and made a na for himself."
"Young man, since you play tennis too," the guide encouraged, "take a good look around. You might find sothing unexpected."
"Oh?"
Hearing this, Ishikawa's interest was piqued.
An old man?
A disciple?
Martial arts, tennis, and a pervert?
Imdiately, an image flashed in his mind: a scruffy, black-robed monk flipping through adult magazines.
"So, he trained here before?"
As for the master-like figure, Ishikawa had an idea of who he might be.
By then, the others were tired from playing and decided to explore elsewhere. Ishikawa, however, glanced at the clear sky and reminded them to be cautious of the impending storm.
After everyone left, Ishikawa picked up his racket and walked onto the moss-covered, cracked court.
"It's a miracle those guys could play so happily here," Ishikawa muttered.
Looking around, he noticed overgrown weeds and the nearest house at least 500 ters away. This place seed to be a rest stop for hikers, with only the benches kept clean.
"Hmm?"
At that mont, Ishikawa spotted sothing in the weeds.
"What's this…"
Pushing aside the grass, he found a moss-covered, weathered wall. Most of the wall was worn away, but there were clear marks of sothing hitting it. In the center was a fist-sized, deep hole.
It looked like a drainage pipe, but Ishikawa was certain it had been made by soone striking it repeatedly.
"So, this is where he trained?"
The wall's material was far tougher than ordinary walls or floors.
In Ishikawa's mind, an image appeared: a young man with tied-up hair, relentlessly hitting tennis balls against the wall.
"Huh? What's that?"
Noticing sothing else, Ishikawa picked up a stick and scraped away the dried moss on the wall.
Then, a line of crooked, faintly carved words ca into view:
"Do not limit yourself to what you see on the surface. Perceive the true essence of things."
---
* Pat-reon: belamy20*
*(Chapter end)*
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