civilwarnovels Chapter 125: The Extra Training Trio - Atobe's Luck is Terrible
Chapter 125: The Extra Training Trio - Atobe's Luck is Terrible
Kazuya Tokugawa, who was practicing receiving serves, paused.
The black tennis ball grazed his racket frame and slammed into the wire mesh behind him with a dull thud.
He tilted his head slightly and glanced in the direction of Shuji Taneshima. The racket spun half a circle in his palm and came to a steady stop.
His short black hair was damp with sweat and clung to his forehead. His pale profile was taut and straight, and his dark eyes held no emotion, only a sharp calm.
Junior high school student.
He silently repeated those three words to himself.
He then turned around and readjusted his receiving stance. His swing was more precise than before, the arc of the ball was more stable and powerful, and the sound of the ball hitting the ground was a bit deeper.
Strength is the only true measure of success.
No matter who comes, as long as they can defeat him, he will naturally acknowledge them.
He has always had only one goal.
Phoenix of Byodoin.
Oni Jujiro also stopped what he was doing, his dark red rooster-like hair standing out conspicuously in the sunlight. He turned his head and looked in the direction of Tanejima Shuji.
When Shuji Taneshima met his gaze, his eyes crinkled into a smile, and he playfully winked his left eye at him, even giving him a thumbs-up.
Ghost let out a soft "hmm" and his gaze returned to his hitting spot. The blood of youth always brings new momentum, and playing against them pushes one's strength and will forward.
I hope that all the newcomers have potential.
He resumed his stance, swinging his cross racket again, each strike producing a crisp, resounding sound.
As Shuji Taneshima watched the two tense figures from behind, a smile slowly spread across his lips.
Silence doesn't mean they don't care.
These two guys may not say it, but they still care.
That's what makes it interesting.
Otherwise, the training camp would be so dull and lifeless all day long.
"What are you all standing there for!"
A furious roar, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, suddenly exploded out.
Byodoin Phoenix exuded a frighteningly heavy aura. His long golden hair fluttered slightly in the wind as he coldly swept his gaze over the army that had formed a circle around him.
"Training's all over? You're all just standing around watching? Did you feed the dogs all that training?! Or do you all think you're so strong you don't need to train, that you can just lie around and win the Asian qualifiers?!"
He took two steps forward, his voice growing louder, and hurled the tennis ball at the group of soldiers who were gathered together.
"Only weaklings waste time watching the show! Everyone get back to your training! Anyone who slacks off today will have to train thirty times harder!"
The soldiers tensed up at the shout, and none of them dared to linger.
"Ooku! Have you patched up the flaws in your doubles coordination yet? Kimishima! Your net play error rate is still stuck at 12%, and you still have the nerve to stand here and listen?"
"What, do you think you're too comfortable in your position?"
When Kimishima Ikuto's name was called, his face stiffened. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, straightened his training uniform collar, turned around and tugged at Tono, who was sparring with him, before walking away quickly.
Atsushi Tono licked his lips, picked up his racket, and followed behind him, leaving behind a cold mutter.
Ryuji Ōgura was so startled by Byōdōin's shout that his hand trembled, and he pulled out several strands of hair. He frowned, his face showing some impatience, and dragged Date Osamu's arm toward the sidelines, yelling that they should play another round.
Duke Watanabe smiled gently at the crowd, then followed, racket in hand. Fuwa Iron Man straightened his back, his footsteps steady and powerful, and quickly returned to his position.
Within seconds, the crowd that had been gathered together dispersed completely.
The sounds of footsteps, rackets clashing, and shoes rubbing against the ground mingled together. The entire training ground instantly transformed from a leisurely spectator mode into a heated training session.
"Irie! What are you still standing here for? Have you practiced your game so much that you can fool me? If not, get back to your practice!"
Kanata Irie, who had been standing by with a smile watching the show, froze for a moment after his name was called. He then shrugged helplessly and turned to walk towards Court No. 3.
He took a couple of steps and looked back, his expression pitiful, but when Byodoin's gaze swept over him, he immediately shrank back.
Seeing everyone around him running away, Shuji Taneshima wondered if he should slip away too.
He had just taken a step when Byodoin's voice came crashing down from behind him.
Shuji Taneshima.
Shuji Taneshima stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned around, a fawning smile plastered on his face. "Phoenix Boss, I'll go train right away. Please don't be angry."
"The three of you."
Byodoin's gaze swept over him, then over Mori and Echi, who had already slipped to the sidelines of the court. "Skipping training for three days, ignoring the rules of the training camp."
"Today's training volume is ten times higher."
Shuji Taneshima's nonchalant expression cracked instantly. He slumped his shoulders, leaned forward, and spoke with a hint of schadenfreude.
"Hey, Phoenix, you can't be that ruthless. We're out on business..."
"Ten times more." Byodoin didn't even lift his eyelids.
"Huh? Twenty times?!"
Mori immediately bristled, her red curly hair standing on end. She clung to Echi's arm with both hands, practically hanging on him, her voice weak and pitiful.
"No... I didn't do anything with Tsukikage-san, why should I be punished too... This is too much!"
Byodoin gave him a cold glance.
Mori immediately fell silent, his long, curly hair drooping, and he scurried behind Echi, only daring to peek out with half his face showing.
Kochi looked at Byodoin expressionlessly, nodded slightly, and said in a very soft voice, "Understood."
Shuji Taneshima took two steps forward, trying to reason with Byodoin: "Boss, how about this? We can train twenty times faster, but can we do it over several days? If we finish it in one day, we definitely won't be able to get up tomorrow, and that would be bad if we missed training."
"How about a discount, ten times the price?"
"A discount?" Byodoin raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with undisguised sarcasm. "Looks like you guys have too much free time."
"Ten times it again."
Shuji Taneshima hadn't expected to shoot himself in the foot, and the smile on his face froze for a moment.
Mori darted out from behind Echi, about to say something, but was quickly covered in the mouth by Shuji Taneshima. Taneshima's other hand pressed on Mori's shoulder, pushing him towards Echi, muttering, "Don't say anything, or we'll have to add more."
With his mouth covered, Mori could only make muffled "mmm" sounds, which made the red-haired guy even more furious.
He glared at Taneshima, his eyes full of dissatisfaction, but Taneshima didn't even look at him, and simply shoved him into Echi's arms.
Yuezhi put his arm around Maoli's shoulder, pulling him closer, and glanced down at him. His gaze was indifferent, but Maoli immediately quieted down, though his lips were still pouting, clearly feeling wronged.
Tanejima released his grip and turned to leave, but Byodoin called him back.
"Planting islands".
"Um?"
"You double it again."
Shuji Taneshima took a deep breath, opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing.
He glanced in the direction of Yuezhi and Maoli. Yuezhi was dragging Maoli towards the court. Maoli was still muttering under his breath, "Why do we have to join too?" Yuezhi didn't say anything, but just put his hand on Maoli's shoulder and led him away.
Shuji Taneshima followed behind, sighed, and resignedly put his hands in his pockets.
Okay, thirty-two times it is.
Anyway, he doesn't usually train that much, so this can be considered as extra training.
Saito watched the farce come to an end, shook his head slightly, a faint smile hidden in his eyes. He closed the magazine, tucked it under his arm, and gestured to Kurobe.
"Let's go back too; there are still some things to pack up before the expedition."
Kurobe nodded slightly, his fingertips still resting on the journal page.
The two walked side by side toward the coach's room, their steps steady.
Kurobe held the sports medicine journal in one hand and had his other hand in his suit trouser pocket, the white suit gleaming cleanly in the sunlight.
He walks with his back very straight, his steps even, and even his breathing rhythm is very steady.
Saito walked beside him, his light gray casual clothes fluttering slightly in the wind. He was a full two heads taller than Kurobe, and he walked with his head slightly lowered to avoid bumping into the beams above the corridor.
Neither of them spoke.
In the end, it was Saito who spoke first.
His narrow eyes curved into a smile, and a gentle smile played at the corners of his mouth.
"It seems the people in the training camp are quite concerned about expanding recruitment." His voice was soft and deliberate. "I thought they wouldn't care about this kind of thing."
Kurobe glanced at him and said calmly, "That's because they felt threatened."
"A threat?" Saito raised an eyebrow.
"The influx of fresh talent means that positions may be taken away."
Kurobe gently patted the journal in his hand. "Those guys in the First Army say they don't care about junior high school students, but they all know in their hearts that if a few really gifted people come, their positions might not be secure."
Saito chuckled and nodded. "That's true. Especially Taneshima; his words today were clearly intentional. He just wanted to see everyone's reaction."
"He's always been like this." Kurobe pushed open the door, stepping aside to let Saito go in first, his voice calm and restrained. "He appears lazy on the surface, but he knows things better than anyone else."
"However, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. The new pressure can force these people in the training camp to break through their bottlenecks, which is beneficial for this qualifier."
Saito listened intently, nodding occasionally; his long arms and legs made him appear somewhat cramped in the corridor.
"really."
Just as he was about to continue, his head slammed against the doorframe with a "thud." He paused slightly, took a half step back, and smiled with a helpless yet gentle expression.
"Are you alright?" Kurobe looked up at him.
"It's nothing, it's nothing." Saito lowered his hand, rubbed his reddened forehead, and gave a helpless smile. "Looks like I have to always remember to bow my head."
Kurobe came in behind him, placed the journal and tablet on the table, and typed the words "Junior High School Student Detailed Information Database" on the data screen.
"I will build a database of junior high school students as soon as possible."
He spoke calmly, his fingertips flying across the keyboard with light pressure. "I've compiled data on all the promising junior high school students nationwide, covering their technical skills, growth curves, and psychological qualities, and quantified and archived it all."
"Data doesn't lie; the data will tell us who is qualified to enter the training camp."
Saito sat down opposite him, opened the magazine, and saw the page about Atobe Keigo, the heir to the Atobe Group. Looking at the photo of the boy with silver-gray hair and a beauty mark at the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth curved slightly.
"Indeed. If we can collect this data in advance, we can develop a more targeted training plan when they arrive at camp."
He flipped through the magazine again, his gaze finally settling on the cover. The young man was wearing a black suit, with blond hair and blue eyes, a clean and sharp demeanor, and a faint smile on his lips.
"Moreover, the high school students in the training camp now have largely established playing styles and mindsets, leaving limited room for change. But these new generation junior high school students are different; they are like undried clay, and they can be molded into whatever shape they want."
Saito leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped on his knees, and said with a touch of emotion, "That reckless drive they have is something many high school students have lost. Clean and passionate."
Kurobe stopped tapping and glanced at him.
"You're being quite sentimental today."
Saito smiled and shook his head, raising his hand to touch his chin. "They've probably been inspired to fight, just like those kids in the first team."
His gaze fell on the magazine cover, and he said softly, "Especially this kid named Wang Yueling. His logical thinking and overall planning abilities in the business world are top-notch, and his mental fortitude is definitely not bad either."
"If he really is as good at tennis as Taneshima says..."
He paused, then looked up at Kurobe. "Perhaps this will interest Captain Mifune."
Kurobe tapped his fingers lightly twice on the table.
"What about Coach Mifune..."
He thought for a moment, carefully choosing his words, "He received the news last night. Although he said he was against expanding enrollment, he has actually started asking me to collect videos of junior high school students' competitions."
Saito raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.
"Really? I just told Byodoin that Mifune wouldn't agree. It seems I was wrong."
"Yes. I was surprised too."
Kurobe pulled up a dense list of names and match records on the data screen. "Last night he asked me to focus on collecting data from the Kanto Tournament and the National Tournament. Especially these people: Yukimura Seiichi and Sanada Genichiro from Rikkai, Atobe Keigo from Hyotei, and Tezuka Kunimitsu from Seigaku."
He paused, tapping his fingertip on the journal on the table.
"Of course, I will also collect additional information on Mochizuki Ryou this time."
Saito chuckled and leaned forward slightly. "It seems that even though Coach Mifune said no, he's wavering inside."
"He wasn't always like this."
Kurobe lowered his hand, leaned back in his chair, and looked out at the training field. "They're all talk and no action. They say middle schoolers are no good, but they actually hope for the emergence of exceptionally talented new talents. Byodoin is the same way."
Saito followed his gaze and saw the boys on the court training hard, the sound of rackets hitting the ball rising and falling.
"The Kanto Tournament is about to begin."
He looked away, his voice low, "This is a good opportunity to collect recent competition data from junior high school students. Especially those who might make it into the camp, their actual performance is the most authentic reference."
"really."
Kurobe nodded, agreeing with Saito's point of view, but after thinking for a moment, he picked up the journal again and pointed to Mochizuki Ryo's photo with his fingertip.
"However, there's a problem. He's currently the coach of Hyotei, so he probably won't be playing in matches himself. It'll be difficult to see his skills."
"Otherwise, he would definitely be the most noteworthy contestant among this year's junior high school students."
There was a hint of regret in Kurobe's tone.
He has always admired tactical players, and Mochizuki Ryo's foresight and strategic planning abilities in business gave him a feeling that this person was the type he favored most.
If Mochizuki Ryo were to play, he would be able to collect far more data than he does now.
Saito looked at the slight regret on Kurobe's face, crossed his hands on his knees, and smiled.
"Skills in ball games can't be hidden."
"If he's truly talented, he'll show it on the court sooner or later. Coach Mifune has the sharpest eye; if Mochizuki Ryo is really as special as Taneshima says, it won't be long before he's being targeted."
"We might be able to recruit people to the training camp soon."
He paused, his narrow eyes curving upwards, his tone carrying a hint of anticipation.
"Even if he doesn't play, we can still watch the teams he coaches. Isn't it said that great teachers produce great students? Let's go see what kind of team this little master coach can train."
Kurobe paused slightly and turned his head to look at him.
"You mean, go check out the Kanto Tournament?"
"Why not?" Saito's smile was both gentle and sly. "Seeing it with our own eyes is much more direct than just reading reports. We can also confirm whether these junior high school students can actually provide any real challenge to the First Team."
Kurobe was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Sure. I'll arrange the schedule and data collection equipment."
Saito smiled and responded, then turned to look out the window.
The roar of Byodoin echoed from the court again: "Oki! Would it kill you to hit that ball five centimeters off angle? Do it again!"
Daqu Longci stood at the baseline, paused his fidgeting with his hair, took a deep breath, and picked up his racket again.
The players on the court are training even more intensely.
The sounds of hitting the ball grew more frequent, and the footsteps became more hurried. Sweat glistened in the sunlight, and jerseys were soaked through, but no one dared to stop.
Kurobe looked at the scene outside the window and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.
"It seems Byodoin is in a good mood today."
Saito chuckled. "Perhaps we've found new, interesting prey."
The two looked at each other and saw a hint of helpless smile in each other's eyes.
Outside the window, on the training field, the sound of the boys hitting the ball with their rackets blended together, and their sweat glistened in the sunlight.
The words "Junior High School Student Detailed Information Database" on the digital screen in the coaching room were particularly clear under the lights.
-
The day of the draw for the Kanto Tournament.
The Atobe family's Rolls-Royce drove smoothly through the streets of Kanagawa, its windows tinted with one-way vision film, filtering the glaring sunlight into a soft, golden glow.
The interior of the car is spacious, with a small dark wood table in the center, on which are several tiers of French pastry shelves displaying macarons, canelés, mousse cakes, and more...
There were also two cups of cold black tea on the side.
Wang Yueling leaned back in the soft leather seat, the top two buttons of her white shirt undone, and her red tie loosely tied around her neck.
Her long blonde wolf tail was loosely tied at the back of her head with a blue-purple hair tie, with a few wisps of hair hanging down her forehead, making her look lazy yet sophisticated.
Across from him, Atobe sat upright, his shirt collar crisp and his tie perfectly tied. He held a tablet and was looking at the team information for the Kanto Tournament with a serious expression.
"Keigo".
Mochizuki Ryou took a pink macaron, took a bite, looked up at Atobe across from her, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, and said in a light tone with deliberate teasing, "I heard from Yuushi that you always have terrible luck with the lot."
Atobe didn't even look up, his fingertip pausing on the screen for a moment, "Ah~ Shinobu's mouth can only spout unrefined nonsense."
"That's no nonsense."
Wang Yueling licked the icing sugar off her lips and leaned forward.
"He said that last year in the Kanto Tournament, you were drawn against seeded teams for three consecutive rounds. In the national tournament qualifiers, you faced a strong team from Kyushu in the first round. And in the ball games group stage this year, you were drawn against our school's ace team. In the end, you got a clean sweep."
He popped the last macaron into his mouth, dusted off the crumbs on his hands, and said in a smug and irritating tone, "How about I draw it today?"
"Let me tell you, I'm incredibly lucky."
He started counting on his fingers, listing his glorious achievements as if they were his most treasured possessions, his face full of pride. "Last time I went to the arcade with Jiro and the others to try our luck at the lottery, I won all three different prizes on my first try. Even the day before yesterday, I won five million yen when I bought a scratch-off lottery ticket on the street."
"If I were to intervene, I would guarantee that Hyotei would have a smooth ride all the way from the first round to the finals."
Atobe leaned back lazily, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone brimming with absolute confidence. "Hmph, so-so. My strength doesn't need to be proven by the draw. No matter which team we draw, Hyotei will win."
He deliberately avoided the topic of bad luck, paused, glanced at Wang Yueling, and added casually, "If you want to join in the fun, you can go up and try your luck."
"Never mind, never mind."
Looking at his arrogant expression, Wang Yueling chuckled, picked up another piece of mousse cake, scooped out a spoonful and put it in her mouth, then puffed out her cheeks and shook her head.
"I was just kidding."
"It would be most spectacular if our Hyotei King himself went up to draw the lots. Just imagine, you standing on that stage, as if you have your own spotlight, and then you elegantly draw the lots and announce Hyotei's opponent, how magnificent would that scene be..."
He showered Atobe with compliments, praising everything from his hairstyle to the color of his tie, and even saying that his posture while drawing lots was better than everyone else's.
Atobe's lips unconsciously curled upwards as he put down his tablet, picked up his teacup, and proudly sipped his tea.
"so……"
Mochizuki Ryo suddenly changed the subject, a mischievous glint in her azure eyes, "I'd rather draw all the green lights and go straight to the finals, how boring. It's better if you, Minister, go and draw, you're sure to draw some really interesting teams."
He rested his chin on his hand, looking at Atobe with a smile: "Keigo, what do you think?"
Atobe's smile froze on his face as he understood Mochizuki Ryo's unspoken meaning... "You have bad luck; the result you draw is bound to be dramatic."
He closed his eyes, raised his hand to rub his temples, and sighed deeply. The car was silent for a few seconds. He opened his eyes and looked at Wang Yueling, his gaze filled with helplessness, disdain, and something else he couldn't quite define.
"Being with you makes me feel like I age three years every day." He glanced at Wang Yueling and added, "I even get more wrinkles."
Wang Yueling laughed out loud, taking a spoonful of cake. "No way, you're forever 15. Besides, Keigo is even more handsome today than yesterday."
"Don't give me that." Atobe picked up the documents again, his tone indifferent. "When you're praising someone, you're never up to anything."
Wang Yueling blinked innocently: "I meant it when I praised you."
"Hmm," Atobe turned a page of documents, "I really want to see this old man make a fool of himself."
"You found out."
Even after his thoughts were exposed, Mochizuki Ryo remained defiant, saying, "I'm just looking forward to an exciting match. Just imagine, wouldn't it be amazing if we faced Seigaku in the first round?"
What he said was true.
According to the original storyline, he drew Seigaku in the first round. It's just unknown whether he can draw it again this time, but given Atobe's luck, the probability is at least 95%.
Atobe glared at him. "You sure know how to pick a fight."
"After all, only a spectacular match can do justice to the strength of Hyotei." Mochizuki Ryou smiled, her eyes crinkling, and took a sip of her black tea before changing the subject, "Mon dieu, your black tea is getting better and better."
Atobe didn't reply, picking up his tablet again to look at the documents, though the smile in his eyes hadn't faded. The car slowly entered Rikkai University's gates, slowing down.