"New title?"
Seeing the new title appear on his character panel, Ishikawa's eyes lit up with excitent.
With this title, he no longer needed to return to that street tennis court to gain a 150% training effect. This wasn't just about leveling up his character—these experience points would translate into real knowledge and skills, permanently stored within him.
Moreover, this title also enhanced his techniques and secondary skills. Training here ant that even if he put in the sa effort as others, the results would be nothing short of extraordinary.
And considering Ishikawa was already a training maniac, the added boost would be downright terrifying!
"Alright," he thought, standing up and heading toward the platform outside the court.
Under the stunned gazes of Mouri and Genjiroh, Ishikawa, still in tattered clothes, began to pick up speed and started running.
"No way..." Genjiroh muttered, staring at Ishikawa as if he were a monster. "He's still training after all that? Is he even human?"
Mouri, on the other hand, felt a deeper realization. After witnessing Ishikawa's match, he had consoled himself by thinking that Ishikawa's talent was sothing unattainable for others. But now, watching Ishikawa's retreating figure, Mouri's eyes glead with understanding.
"If soone as strong as him isn't slacking off, what excuse do we have to rest?" Mouri said, then started his own training.
Genjiroh, who had planned to take a break after today's team match, felt a pang of guilt. His skills were already inferior to Mouri's, and Ishikawa was on a completely different level. If he relaxed now, the gap between them would only widen.
Gritting his teeth, Genjiroh joined the training session.
The other players on Court 3, inspired by the scene, also pushed aside their fatigue and continued training. Even the players from Courts 2 and 1, witnessing the intense dedication, felt the pressure and abandoned their plans to rest, throwing themselves into rigorous practice.
And so, the entire U17 training base was swept up in a wave of relentless competition!
Not far from the U17 base, beyond a sheer 90-degree cliff, atop a mountain peak, a thin wisp of smoke rose from a small wooden hut on a wide platform.
Inside, a scruffy old man with a gray vest, unkempt beard, and a red nose sat leisurely in a chair, humming a tune. He held a gourd in his hand, taking occasional sips as he enjoyed himself.
"Not bad, not bad," the old man chuckled, clearly pleased.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Nearby, a young man with brown hair, wearing a white T-shirt and round glasses, was relentlessly hitting tennis balls against a stone wall. This was Inui Sadaharu, who had disappeared from the U17 base a week ago.
For the past week, Inui had been enduring what could only be described as hellish training.
A closer look revealed scars on his face and arms, and his racket made a heavy, dull sound with each swing. The strain on his face made it clear that the racket was no ordinary one.
"Is this the so-called 'hellish training' that Byoudouin and Tokugawa went through?" Inui muttered through gritted teeth, drenched in sweat. Every day here was a struggle, but his willpower had allowed him to adapt. Even wielding the lead-weighted racket had beco easier.
But Inui suspected that this was just the beginning. The true hellish training had yet to begin.
Turning his gaze toward the hut, Inui glanced at the old man in the vest—Japan's U17 head coach, Mifune Nyudo.
Outwardly, Mifune seed like nothing more than a drunkard, crude and arrogant. But Inui knew better. This man had molded players like Byoudouin and Tokugawa, helping them achieve spiritual breakthroughs and master the secrets of the Asura Path.
Though Inui could mimic the Asura Path and the Photon Strike with his talent, he knew that imitation was no substitute for true mastery. After losing to Ishikawa, Inui had done so serious soul-searching and concluded that he needed to forge his own path.
That's why he had co here, to this place known as the Cliff of the Heart—a place that was more like hell than a sanctuary.
Ring ring ring!
Suddenly, the phone beside Mifune rang.
"Hello?" Mifune answered in his gruff voice. "This is Mifune."
"Kurobe? What's up?"
"Team shuffle match? You're saying Oni played a match against that new kid?"
Spit!
Inui stared in shock as Mifune, who was usually stern and composed, spat out his drink.
"What?!" Mifune shot up from his chair, his eyes wide. "Oni lost?!"
Inui's pupils contracted sharply.
"Oni lost? To who? Did Byoudouin return?"
"No, wait!" Inui suddenly rembered the keyword Mifune had ntioned earlier.
"A new kid?" Inui's face turned pale. "Don't tell ... Oni lost to him?!"
Inui couldn't help but gasp. He knew exactly how strong Oni was—far beyond his own level. If even Oni had lost, just how terrifying was that newcor's strength?
"Alright, I got it," Mifune said, hanging up the phone and standing still for a long mont.
"Hey, kid," Mifune called out to Inui. "Go clean up the room. You'll have a new companion tonight."
Inui's spirits lifted.
"Understood," he replied, heading toward the hut with a mix of excitent and nervousness.
That evening, at the back gate of the U17 base.
Oni, now dressed in the Okayama High uniform, was about to head into the mountains.
"Hey, senpai," a familiar voice called out. "Where are you going? Mind if I tag along?"
Oni turned sharply, his eyes landing on a familiar face.
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