"Is... is this guy even human?!"

The middle schoolers were stunned by Phoenix's display of raw power.

It was hard to believe a person could grip a tennis ball with such force. Even Gin Ishida, the strongest middle schooler in terms of pure strength, paled at the sight.

"Too strong," he muttered, his expression grave. "His grip strength has to be over 80kg!"

The average adult male's grip strength ranged from 40-50kg. Even trained athletes rarely exceeded 70kg.

80kg?

That was enough to crush an apple barehanded—effortlessly.

But this was a tennis ball.

And the way Phoenix had done it—casual, like sipping water—made Gin wonder if even his estimate was too conservative.

"I am Phoenix Nanjirou."

Phoenix's cold gaze swept across the court. "I don't care about the rest of you, but if you're in the 5th Court, you follow my rules."

His eyes briefly locked onto Akutsu in the distance before adding, "If anyone has a problem with that, challenge me. Or get out."

"Tch."

Tezuka, Atobe, and Yukimura exchanged glances.

As the elite of their generation—leaders who commanded absolute respect in their own teams—being talked down to like this was unthinkable.

But the sheer pressure radiating from Phoenix, coupled with the terrified reactions of the high schoolers (including Kishimoto, the former 5th Court supervisor), told them one thing:

This man was not to be trifled with.

For now, they held their ground.

Meanwhile, all eyes shifted to Akutsu Jirou.

Especially the troublemakers from Higa—led by their scheming captain, Kite—who were practically salivating at the prospect of a fight.

"You—!"

True to form, Akutsu snarled and stepped forward.

"Easy there, wild child."

A lazy voice cut in.

A drowsy-looking teen with chocolate skin and snow-white hair—Marui Bunta—yawned. "That guy's not like Kishimoto. Piss him off, and you'll regret it."

Akutsu's scowl deepened.

He didn't need the warning. His instincts were screaming that Phoenix was dangerous.

But backing down now?

Not an option.

"One shot."

Phoenix's voice sliced through the tension. He held up a single finger. "Kid, return one ball from me, and you can do whatever you want in this court."

"You bastard—!"

Akutsu's blood boiled.

One ball?!

Who the hell did this guy think he was?!

Against Kishimoto, he hadn't even gone all out. And now, this arrogant prick was treating him like some amateur?

Fine.

He'd make Phoenix eat those words.

"Ready?"

Phoenix didn't wait for an answer. He positioned a ball at his shoulder—a casual stance that made the middle schoolers frown.

"That form…"

"He's not even trying!"

"Akutsu's top five in our generation! This guy's in for a shock!"

While Phoenix was clearly strong, the middle schoolers were confident Akutsu could return one ball.

After all, outside of Ryoma, Akutsu stood among the elite:

- Tezuka Kunimitsu (Supreme Dominion)

- Yukimura Seiichi (Zero-Sense)

- Atobe Keigo (The King's Court)

- Echizen Ryoma (Ten'i Muhai)

- Akutsu Jirou (The Tyrant)

These five could hold their own against anyone in U-17.

"Arrogant prick."

"Does he think we're scrubs?"

"Akutsu's gonna humiliate him!"

The whispers died instantly as—

Crackle…!

Golden light erupted from Phoenix's fingertips, engulfing the tennis ball.

"What the—?!"

"The ball's… glowing?!"

Before anyone could process it, Phoenix swung.

Thud!

The ball morphed into a spinning oval of light, screaming toward Akutsu at terrifying speed.

"A glow shot? Pathetic."

Akutsu's lips curled.

This was basic—the kind of serve coaches taught absolute beginners.

Did Phoenix really think so little of him?

"Hah!"

With a burst of gray-white aura—his Beast Mode—Akutsu lunged forward, racket poised to annihilate the return.

CRACK!

The impact echoed like a gunshot.

"He got it!"

"Yes!"

"That's our guy!"

The middle schoolers erupted in cheers.

For them, Akutsu's return was a symbolic strike against the high schoolers' arrogance.

But Akutsu's face twisted in shock.

"This weight—?!"

It felt like he'd just tried to stop a freight train.

His wrist screamed in protest as the ball's monstrous force threatened to snap his bones.

"GRAAH—!"

Instinctively, Akutsu activated his ultimate form—Tyrant Mode—as black-red energy exploded around him.

BOOOOM!

The wall behind him cratered inward as an invisible force blasted through it.

The shockwave sent Akutsu flying, his racket reduced to splinters.

"No way…"

The middle schoolers' cheers died in their throats.

This level of destruction…

It rivaled Ryoma's match against Ten'i Muhai Ryoma at nationals!

"Wait—!"

Marui's sharp eyes caught a flicker of yellow amidst the smoke.

The ball was still in play!

But Akutsu had nothing left.

The ball weakly tapped the net before dropping to the ground like a wounded bird.

"As expected of Phoenix-sama!"

"Hah! Serves the brat right!"

"Did he really think he could challenge him?!"

The high schoolers crowed in triumph, their earlier humiliation forgotten.

"Oi. Akutsu Jirou."

Phoenix's voice cut through the noise. "You dead? If not, you've got five minutes to catch up. The rest of you—start running."

Without another word, he tossed his racket to Duke, kicked off his shoes, and began the day's endurance training—barefoot.

Tezuka and the others immediately followed.

Atobe glanced at Akutsu—now shakily rising from the dust—before gritting his teeth and sprinting after them.

"All players," Kurobe's voice boomed over the PA, "return to your designated courts immediately."

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Any lingering slackness vanished as both high schoolers and middle schoolers threw themselves into training with newfound intensity.

"As 'that man' said," Kite adjusted his glasses, a cold glint in his eyes, "Japan's U-17 is a den of monsters."

---

Coaches' Office – U-17 HQ

"Phoenix never fails to impress."

Saito exhaled in relief. "Only he could've cowed those middle schoolers so effectively."

"Expected."

Kurobe remained calm. "But intimidation isn't the goal. We have one month to mold them into world-class players."

The three coaches dove back into their data analysis, refining their training regimens.

---

One Hour Later – Training Grounds

Phoenix maintained a brutal pace, his bare feet slapping against the track. Behind him, the middle schoolers—faces red, lungs burning—struggled to keep up.

Even the high schoolers (except Duke) had dropped out.

"H-How…?"

Atobe—prideful of his stamina—couldn't fathom how Phoenix was still accelerating.

And barefoot, no less!

"Distractions help ignore the pain," Duke panted as he caught up, grinning. "Oh, and a little secret—Boss is still in recovery mode."

"Recovery?!"

Before they could probe further, Phoenix shot Duke a warning glare. The big man chuckled and sped ahead.

Tezuka, Atobe, Yukimura, and even Akutsu (now back on his feet) exchanged glances.

If Phoenix wasn't at full strength…

What kind of monster had injured him?!

Their minds conjured images of a towering, cold-eyed titan.

The thought sent a chill down their spines.

Gritting their teeth, they pushed harder.

---

Meanwhile – Heart's Cliff (Rear Mountain)

"Move! Faster!"

Oni's voice boomed as the middle schoolers drilled under his watchful eye.

"Hmph. They're obedient enough."

Drunk as ever, Sakurō chuckled. "With his skills, their growth will exceed projections."

"Naturally."

Inui smiled. "Oni trained Mitsunari, Fuwa, Hirano, and Yamato. He's the ideal Gatekeeper of Hell."

Sakurō's grin widened.

Phoenix overseeing the 5th Court, Oni molding the next generation at Heart's Cliff…

Who would've thought the two former rivals would end up like this?

And it was all thanks to that first-year—a prodigy so terrifying, even Sakurō found him unfathomable.

"That kid's gonna shake the world."

This expedition was just the beginning.

East Asia—no, the entire tennis world—would soon learn the name Echizen Ryoma.

---

One Week Later

The U-17 hierarchy had shifted under Phoenix's reign.

Meanwhile, the expedition team—fresh off friendly matches in Thailand and Sri Lanka—arrived in Mumbai, India for their second official showdown!

---