Meanwhile.
Compared to the bustling streets of Tokyo, this place was eerily quiet.
Overgrown weeds and towering cliffs dominated the landscape, the terrain harsh and unforgiving.
A roaring waterfall cascaded down from the cliff's edge, its flow almost forming the shape of a heart, as if questioning one's resolve.
This cliff had a name—Heart's Cliff!
A name unfamiliar to most, yet one that stirred recognition in a select few.
Beside a treehouse carved with the emblem of a three-wheeled boat, a scruffy figure sat, swigging from a bottle of sake.
With a rough grunt, he spat, "What bad luck!"
His face was rugged, his beard unkempt, and he wore a tattered black outfit. Yet, an invisible aura of quiet pressure radiated from him.
His name was Nyudo Mifune!
A name that once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the legendary Nanjiro Echizen.
Though he never quite reached legendary status himself, he was one of the head coaches of the renowned U-17 training camp—a true head coach of Japan's U-17 program.
But at this moment, none of that mattered.
"Could that old fool really be trying to contact me?"
Mifune muttered, his gaze darkening. Earlier that morning, he'd received a brief communication from overseas, but before he could respond, the signal was cut off.
He had no clue who it was or where it came from.
Yet, Mifune had a hunch.
"Only one person in Los Angeles would know how to contact Heart's Cliff—Nanjiro Echizen!"
He cursed under his breath. "What's that old bastard up to? Is Seigaku falling apart? Or did his two sons finally turn on him?"
Mifune and Nanjiro were old acquaintances—friends, rivals, though after Nanjiro became a legend, Mifune could no longer match him.
Sometimes, the gap created by raw talent couldn't be bridged by effort alone.
That's why Mifune had taken on the role of head coach at the U-17 camp—to personally train a new legend who could one day topple that old jerk.
BOOM!
As Mifune grumbled, a blinding light flashed from the direction of the waterfall.
The ground beneath Heart's Cliff trembled as if the earth itself were shaking.
A piercing cry, like a phoenix's wail, echoed through the air.
The scene was staggering.
A blond teenager was relentlessly smashing tennis balls into the waterfall, each shot glowing with an unearthly light.The sheer power was terrifying.
If anyone else had witnessed this, they'd be stunned. A tennis ball… glowing?
But Mifune was far from impressed. He glared toward the waterfall. "Idiot! A month of training, and this is your progress? You think you can beat Jujiro Oni and take your revenge with that?"
"I told you, you need the resolve to die on the court! Only by 'dying' in tennis can you hope to push open that door!"
"Idiot! Fool! Utter moron!" Mifune's tirade grew louder.
The blond teenager's face darkened with every insult.
His fists clenched tightly.
As the reigning champion of Japan's national tournament last year, Hoo Byodoin had never endured such humiliation. Each "idiot" made his veins bulge, but he forced himself to swallow his pride.
The reason was simple: a month ago, he suffered his first-ever defeat—to someone his own age.
"Just you wait, Jujiro Oni,"
Byodoin growled, gripping his fist tighter.
Mifune paused his rant, his expression shifting.
"Go find Kurobe," he ordered. "Tell him to check if anything's happened at Seigaku recently."
He frowned, muttering to himself, "What's that old fool up to?"
For some reason, he couldn't shake a nagging feeling.
The ambiguity of it all only made him more uneasy.
Nyudo Mifune couldn't sit STILL.
"Huh?"
Byodoin blinked, caught off guard. This was the first time since arriving at Heart's Cliff as a defeated player that he'd been allowed to contact anyone else.
But… Seigaku?
Checking on Seigaku?
What was this all about?
-----------------
Meanwhile, at Yamabuki Junior High
"He's already joined Hyotei?"
Mikiya Banda shook his head with a mix of regret and disappointment. "Such a pity."
He smirked. "But… heh, if that kid actually makes something of himself, the one who'll regret it most is definitely Sumire Ryuzaki!"
Banda's eyes narrowed, his grin widening.
He had no love for Ryuzaki.
As a coach, she had no real skill, tarnishing the very title of "coach."
Her only claim to fame was luck—stumbling into Nanjiro Echizen, which gave her a reputation she didn't deserve. She could even stand toe-to-toe with him because of it.
"Still, it's a real shame,"
Banda said, sipping his tea with a sigh.
He'd been planning to recruit that kid himself.
As a top-tier coach, he was nothing like Ryuzaki's amateur level.
He could see it clearly: Rin Matsuoka had potential.
That boy reminded him of a young Nanjiro Echizen… no, maybe even more.
But it was just a feeling. He couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination.
After all…
"He joined Seigaku too late, and it took him time to become a regular. He only played in the Kanto Tournament…"
Banda shook his head, dismissing thoughts of Rin Matsuoka.
Maybe he'd misjudged the kid.
Besides, Hyotei had offered Rin a vice-captain position—something Yamabuki couldn't match.
Banda already had his eye on another promising player anyway.
-----------------
At this moment
Rin Matsuoka had no idea that his decision to join Hyotei had caused quite a stir.
The biggest uproar, naturally, was within Seigaku itself.
Many students, in a fit of impulse, had quit the school.
Those who stayed looked at Sumire Ryuzaki with growing resentment.
Time flew by, and a week had already passed.
It was now August 5th.
In that week, Rin had been busy at Hyotei.
His main focus? Training the team.
But no one could keep up with his pace.
Most couldn't even grasp how his mind worked.
Take the Zero-Shiki Drop Shot, for example.
Ryo Shishido was curious and asked Rin to teach him. Rin agreed.
----------
Support my work and advanced chapters at - https://www.patreon.com/c/neltharion255