Chapter 22: Is This Guy Shengzai Been Hiding His Strength All Along?!

“Forty to zero!”

“This set is won by Shengzai Wen; the match is over, final score six to one…”

When Shi Tian, the designated referee, announced the final result, everyone present froze in shock.

Spectators standing outside the court stared at Shengzai, still swinging his racket aimlessly, face not flushed, breath not ragged, equally incredulous.

As for Shengzai’s opponent, Kamio Akira, he now lay flat on the ground in a star-shaped posture, gasping for air.

“No way, Akira was just crushed six to one by Shengzai!”

“And haven’t you noticed? Except for the first set and a few points lost in the second, since the second set began, this guy Shengzai hasn’t lost a single point.”

“Even against Akira, who had seized the rhythm, he controlled the match multiple times by simply serving for the point.”

“Was Shengzai this strong before? Could it be that this guy was hiding his true strength all along?”

“Why is Shengzai so strong? If it hadn’t been Kamio who stepped up but me instead… why didn’t I even compete for the spot with Kamio? After all, Shengzai was supposed to be training with me today…”

Everyone outright ignored Shinji’s muttering, and they were all profoundly stunned by the strength Shengzai had just displayed.

They had all advanced from the first year together; everyone knew exactly how strong the others were.

Shengzai was slightly stronger than Shinji and Kamio, but only by a narrow margin.

In past practice matches, the scores were usually seven to five, six to four.

Moreover, Shinji and Kamio had grown rapidly; recently, they had even begun occasionally defeating Shengzai in practice matches.

Yet no one had ever imagined such a scenario would suddenly emerge today.

“Shengzai’s movements today are completely different from before, yet they feel utterly natural, as if honed through countless repetitions.”

“So… was he hiding his true strength all along?”

“And what triggered him to stop hiding it now?”

Watching Shengzai dominate with a six-to-one victory, Kiriya Kippei, captain of the Undō Peak tennis team, stared intently at Shengzai’s back.

He was certain: compared to others, he trusted more that Shengzai had been hiding his strength, not suddenly growing stronger.

Because if anyone could grow this much in such a short time, Kiriya Kippei simply wouldn’t believe it.

Moreover, Shengzai’s movements and reactions, though different from before, showed no trace of awkwardness in either serve or return.

This meant these skills had always been his—he had simply never used them before.

Kiriya Kippei didn’t know why Shengzai had hidden his strength, but everyone had secrets; after all, he himself was one of the “Two Heroes of Kyushu.”

As for why Shengzai chose this moment to reveal his strength…

Kiriya Kippei glanced at his excited, cheering little sister, Kō, and seemed to imagine something else entirely.

Shengzai’s practice partner today was supposed to be Shinji.

But when Kō came running up, clinging tightly to Shengzai’s arm as they entered the tennis court, Kamio immediately jumped out to challenge him.

And here they were, in this exact situation.

Kiriya Kippei was deeply troubled; both Shengzai and Kamio were outstanding juniors in his eyes, and he had no idea who to support.

If only he had another sister…

Meanwhile, in the court, if Shengzai knew Kiriya Kippei’s thoughts, he would surely cry foul.

He had originally planned to go home and try integrating swordsmanship into tennis.

But somehow, Kō dragged him to the tennis court.

Then Kamio, inexplicably jealous, challenged him to a man-to-man duel.

Since he was already at the court, and since it didn’t matter who he played, Shengzai accepted Kamio’s challenge.

At first, because Shengzai was still adjusting to the difference between racket swings and sword strikes, Kamio won the first set.

But once he grew accustomed to the motion, and with his physical strength and reflexes surging, Kamio was swiftly demolished.

It was no surprise Kiriya Kippei thought Shengzai had been hiding his strength—after the power-sharing, the swordsmanship insights and memories of Sword Shengzai felt as natural as if they had always been his own.

Using skills he had always possessed, of course there was no trace of awkwardness.

And to make Kamio’s heart ache: after adapting to his new abilities, Shengzai hadn’t even used three percent of his strength, yet Kamio was already lying on the ground.

Watching Kamio collapse from exhaustion, Shengzai walked out of the court with his hands in his pockets, recalling a famous line from his past life.

“That year, I had my hands in my pockets, unaware of what ‘opponent’ meant. A mere flick of my wrist, and I already knew the limit of this tier.”

Seeing Shengzai utterly dominate Kamio, Kō, who had been watching, finally snapped out of her stunned, mouth-agape state, then sprinted back onto the court, eagerly demanding answers.

“Didn’t I already say? I’ve been playing games, trying to incorporate some of the techniques from them into tennis.”

“Before, my fundamentals were solid, but I never had my own style, right?”

“But now, I think I’ve found my own tennis style.”

Hearing Shengzai’s words, Kō and everyone else at Undō Peak were left speechless.

Wait, playing video games can make you stronger? Do you even believe that yourself?

“What’s the name of the game you played?”

Though he thought Shengzai was bullshitting, Kiriya Kippei, out of curiosity, voiced the question everyone wanted to ask.

“Uh, I couldn’t read the name—it’s a foreign game—but the genre is a combat adventure game.”

“All my movements today were copied from the sword techniques in the game. I seem to have a talent for this.”

When Shengzai mentioned swordsmanship, Kiriya Kippei finally understood why his movements felt familiar.

After all, blending martial arts into tennis wasn’t new.

Farther back, Shitenjō’s players, and even from Rikkai, Sanada, and a second-year newcomer from Hyotei—all used similar styles.

But as Shengzai claimed, his sword techniques were learned from a game—Kiriya Kippei didn’t believe it.

He preferred to think Shengzai was, in reality, a seasoned swordmaster, honed through years of practice.

Otherwise, no amount of gaming could implant such deep bodily memory.

(End of chapter)