LRAB Chapter 36 Ryo Mochizuki VS Keigo Atobe
Chapter 36 Ryo Mochizuki VS Keigo Atobe
A few words, written lightly, yet carrying immense weight.
Atobe paused for a moment.
"Hyotei Tennis Club deserves it." Mochizuki Ryo repeated solemnly, "Not every school has players like you, and not every captain has your sense of responsibility. I think you deserve to be taken seriously."
"I just did what I could."
The moment the words left his mouth, the study fell silent for a few seconds.
Atobe looked directly into Mochizuki Ryo's eyes, his expression filled with emotion.
The young man before me comes from a top-tier wealthy family. He has the strength to crush everyone else and the insight to see through everything. Yet, on his very first day at the new school, he was willing to stay up several nights writing something like this for a group of people he barely knew.
There was no scheming, no boasting, no condescending charity; it was simply a feeling that "they deserve it."
He had heard countless flattery, countless praises, and countless attempts to get close with ulterior motives, but never had a single sentence struck his heart as directly as this one.
He slowly removed his fingertips from the beauty mark, and a faint but genuine smile slowly appeared on his lips.
It wasn't the usual "I'm the most glamorous" laugh; it was a genuine expression of deep emotion.
Her eyes sparkled with a bright light, a joy at being understood and recognized, and an appreciation and cherishment of the boy before her.
"Wang Yue Ling." Atobe leaned forward slightly, his tone filled with undisguised sincerity, "This is the most magnificent sentence you've ever uttered."
Done.
He stood up from his chair, and his aura subtly changed. It was no longer the lazy and casual demeanor of before, but the majesty of a minister and the aura of a king. His icy blue eyes burned with fighting spirit, and every word he spoke was steady and powerful.
"I want to have a match with you."
This is not a test, not entertainment, but a real and serious competition.
He didn't want to determine a winner, but rather wanted to see for himself just how strong this person was.
Only by seeing it with his own eyes and experiencing it firsthand could he determine whether or not he should voice the increasingly clear thought in his mind.
Wang Yueling also slowly stood up.
The two stood facing each other on either side of the desk. Both came from wealthy families, both were exceptionally talented, and both had passions. One was aloof and flamboyant, while the other was languid and gentle. At this moment, they achieved a wonderful balance.
There was no tension, no confrontation, only a tacit understanding between them.
Looking at the determination and sincerity in Atobe's eyes, Mochizuki Ryo sighed softly in her heart.
As expected of Hyotei's king.
He values ability, values sincerity, does not accept perfunctory responses, and does not compromise easily. He does not offer invitations lightly; his recognition must be earned through merit.
This seriousness, this dedication, this sense of responsibility towards tennis and the team moved even him.
Sincerity should never be betrayed.
He couldn't refuse Atobe's seriousness as a department head, his respect as an opponent, and his sincerity as a friend.
Mochizuki Ryo's previously slightly languid posture straightened, and a sharp edge appeared in his elegant demeanor. He met Atobe's gaze without flinching or hesitating.
A faint yet confident smile slowly curved at the corners of his lips.
"it is good."
The answer was light yet firm.
"I accept your challenge."
"Dinner's almost digested, so it's time to do some light exercise."
A hint of a smile flashed in Atobe's eyes as he regained his usual arrogance: "Then come with me to the basketball court."
-
The Atobe family's private tennis court is located on the west side of the estate and is surrounded by a rose garden.
The night breeze, carrying the faint scent of roses, rustled softly through the netting.
The butler had already instructed the servants to turn on the high-mast lights around the field. The moment the lights came on, they illuminated the entire field, making it as bright as day, and even the fine dust on the field could be seen clearly.
The court is a standard hard court, with Hyotei's gray-blue flags hanging around the perimeter netting, fluttering gently in the night.
The servants stood in the rest area by the court, holding trays with two neatly folded towels on them, and several bottles of sports drinks in an ice bucket next to them.
Ryoichi Mochizuki entered the stadium.
The butler respectfully handed over a brand-new professional racket, with a soft, non-slip grip, clearly a top-of-the-line device.
"Young Master Wangyue, please have some."
"Thank you." Wang Yueling took the racket, twirled it twice in her hand, and weighed it in her hand.
Hmm... the weight is just right, the elasticity is excellent, and it fits the hand very well.
Atobe had already stood on the opposite side of the field, took off his coat and casually tossed it to the servant next to him. He was only wearing a simple black tracksuit, which lacked some of his usual glamorousness and gave him a sharper, more sleek look.
He lightly touched his beauty mark with his left hand again, his gaze fixed on Wang Yueling, his aura fully unleashed.
"Are you ready?"
"Anytime is fine, you serve first."
Wang Yueling stood with a relaxed posture and her shoulders relaxed, as elegant as if she were taking a walk in the courtyard, but her eyes revealed a focused expression.
His tennis skills are not flashy or exaggerated; they are all a fusion of techniques honed to perfection over twenty years in his previous life and his perfect physique in this life.
In "The Prince of Tennis," both "fantasy tennis" and "murder tennis" are variations of basic tennis skills.
His basic ball skills are already at the top of the professional level.
The butler also served as the referee, and a clear "The game begins!" broke the silence of the night.
Atobe served first.
He stood behind the baseline, his posture relaxed, raising his hand, tossing the ball, and leaping—a graceful and fluid movement, his signature high-speed serve. The ball was so fast it almost left a blur, spinning powerfully as it headed straight for the corner.
The servants in the rest area couldn't help but hold their breath.
Ke Wangyue did not retreat. She simply moved her feet slightly, her footwork as steady as if nailed to the ground. Her racket was precisely placed on the hitting point, and she turned the racket horizontally to slice the ball.
The ball was sliced back, with a strong backspin, and landed near Atobe's feet, bouncing up to just knee height.
The pupils on the atobe contracted slightly.
The landing point, spin, power of the return shot... it's all written in the white paper. His serving habits, his net play, the low bounce he's not good at dealing with.
Everything was calculated.
Atobe gritted his teeth and returned the ball over the net, but the angle wasn't tricky enough anymore.
Wang Yueling went online and intercepted the attack.
The ball landed in the corner of Atobe's backhand side.
15-0.
Atobe stood on the field, looking at the ball falling behind him, and took a deep breath.
This person's footwork, swing, hitting point, power, rhythm... every detail is terrifyingly precise.
He dared not be careless and immediately stepped forward, twisting his wrist to unleash a waltz towards destruction. The tennis ball traced a strange arc in the air, spinning intensely, hurtling towards Wang Yueling's wrist.
This is his trump card, and countless opponents have fallen victim to it.
Mochizuki Ryo simply made a slight adjustment to his footwork, met the ball head-on with his racket, and steadily returned it to the net. His movements were simple, unpretentious, and devoid of any flair, yet they were terrifyingly powerful.
Every move and style of Atobe's was neutralized by Mochizuki Ryo using the most basic fighting techniques.
Super-fast serves, waltzes, protracted battle tactics... Atobe used all his tricks, even deliberately prolonging the pace and playing a long game to wear down his opponent's stamina. He has been working hard to overcome and correct all the weaknesses pointed out in the white paper these past few days.
But it was useless.
The match continued to be a one-sided, crushing affair.
No matter how Atobe hits, changes the line, or adds spin, Mochizuki Ryo can return the ball in the most basic way—steady, accurate, and powerful—without any unnecessary movements, yet leaving Atobe completely unable to find any openings.
Mochizuki Ryo's attacks were even simpler and more direct.
There were no special moves, no special effects; he simply hit the ball to the opponent's most vulnerable spot. Every single ball left Atobe scrambling to keep up.
It looked like the most basic tennis technique, yet it left Atobe breathless.
Every ball Atobe hits, Mochizuki Ryo manages to return to the most uncomfortable position for him, with tricky angles and varied rhythms. Mochizuki Ryo can also anticipate every habitual running route of Atobe. Every time Atobe exerts force, Mochizuki Ryo can neutralize it in the most energy-efficient way.
This feeling is suffocating.
It's not the helplessness of being violently crushed. It's the despair of "no matter what I do, he's already prepared."
The score was gradually widening.
1-0，2-0，3-0……
Atobe gritted his teeth and gave it his all, finally seizing an opportunity in the fifth game to break Mochizuki Ryo's serve and take a point.
6-1.
competition is over.
It's still an overwhelmingly dominant game.