The court was eerily quiet.

The Japanese team remained completely calm after securing their second consecutive victory. They knew exactly how capable the twin brothers were.

Sure, their individual skills weren't the strongest, but with their synchronicity—**"The Pair Resonance"**—their combined strength was far greater than the sum of its parts.

On the other hand, the Korean team was drowning in tension. After two straight losses, both the players and the spectators were visibly uneasy, their eyes flickering with anxiety.

Among them, Head Coach Park Dong-gun's expression was the darkest.

Two losses in a row.

And worse—this humiliation was being broadcast live to the entire nation. If they didn't turn things around soon, the U17 team's fate would be uncertain, but he would undoubtedly go down as the most disgraceful coach in Korean U17 tennis history.

There was only one way out now: win. At all costs.

Swish!

His sharp gaze locked onto the confident blond boy stepping onto the court.

"Tae-woo. Take this seriously."

"Coach!"

Kim Tae-woo, who had been completely relaxed just moments ago, stiffened under Park's intense glare.

"Remember," Park growled, his voice low and threatening. "You must win. If you lose… you know the consequences."

"…Understood."

A flicker of fear passed through Tae-woo's eyes. He knew all too well the power Park held as the U17 head coach.

Even if Korea somehow made it to the World Cup this year, he might not get to play.

The thought of being benched made his expression turn serious.

"Pressuring his player before the match even starts?"

From the sidelines, Ishikawa shook his head inwardly.

"As expected, Coach Inui's leadership is on a completely different level."

The Korean team was already backed into a corner. If Ishikawa were in charge, he'd ease his players' nerves, analyze the opponent's weaknesses mid-match, and adjust tactics during timeouts.

But Park?

He was panicking.

With such poor decision-making under pressure, Korea's fate was already sealed.

"Now beginning the Singles 2 match!"

"Representing Korea—Kim Tae-woo (3rd Year)!"

"Representing Japan—Echizen Nanjiroh (3rd Year)!"

"Players, prepare!"

The crowd, murmuring moments earlier, fell silent.

After two crushing losses, the Korean spectators clung to a fragile hope as their golden-haired ace stepped forward.

KBS2 Broadcast Studio

"Mr. Kim," the flustered host turned to the analyst, "could you tell us about Kim Tae-woo?"

"Of course." Kim Gun-woo cleared his throat. "He's currently ranked No. 2 in Korea's national team, just behind their captain, Lee Seung-bok. However, since Lee trained at Germany's elite camp…"

He paused for emphasis.

"Tae-woo is the strongest homegrown player in Korea's U17!"

"Homegrown?!"

The audience's spirits lifted instantly.

On screen, the two players met at the net.

The Japanese representative towered over Tae-woo—yet the Korean ace radiated confidence.

Maybe… just maybe…

Like an underdog movie, Korea would stage a comeback and crush their rivals!

The Court

"Echizen Nanjiroh," Tae-woo said in broken English, smirking. "I've heard about your 'unstoppable' serve. Show me what you've got."

His tone was cocky, bordering on mocking.

"You'll see it."

Nanjiroh's expression didn't waver.

"Tch. Boring."

Tae-woo scoffed and turned away.

Broadcast Studio

"What was that?" The host blinked.

"He's conceding the serve," Kim Gun-woo explained, forcing a smile. "Clearly, Tae-woo is confident in his abilities!"

Internally, though, he was furious.

Showboating when we're losing? Idiot!

But with Korea's back against the wall, he could only pray Tae-woo's "homegrown strongest" title wasn't just hype.

First Serve

"Best of three sets! First game—Japan's Echizen Nanjiroh to serve!"

Whoosh!

Nanjiroh tossed the ball high, then—**BAM!**—hammered it down with his towering reach.

The ball streaked across the net like a bullet, landing squarely on the service line.

"Too fast!"

The Korean team and crowd gasped.

This serve was on another level compared to earlier matches.

Broadcast Studio

"According to data," Kim Gun-woo muttered, "the Japanese player is over 2.2 meters tall. His serve is practically a smash."

"What do we do?!" The host panicked.

If they lost this, not only would Coach Park be crucified—KBS would become a national joke.

Tae-woo's Move

Swish!

Tae-woo reacted instantly, darting to intercept the ball before it bounced twice.

"Not bad speed," he taunted, grinning. "But still too slow for me!"

CRACK!

He returned it with a sharp angle, aiming for the far corner.

"Yes!"

The crowd erupted—finally, a worthy play!

But before they could celebrate—

THWACK!

Nanjiroh was already there, effortlessly returning it.

"Oh?"

Tae-woo's grin widened. "Good! I was worried you'd be too weak!"

He exploded into motion, his afterimages blurring across the court.

Japanese Team's Reaction

"Huh." Kaji raised an eyebrow. "Not bad speed."

"Kim Tae-woo," Mitsutani added calmly. "Age 17. Dubbed 'Korea's Homegrown Genius' and 'Golden Lightning' for his reflexes."

"Lightning?" Kaji snorted. "Their standards must be low."

As Japan's fastest player (with a speed stat of 7), he wouldn't dare call himself "lightning." Globally, that level wasn't even top-tier.

The Rally

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The match intensified.

Nanjiroh was fast, but Tae-woo controlled the tempo, pushing harder with each return.

"It's working!" A Korean player grinned. "Tae-woo's overwhelming him!"

Sure enough—three exchanges later, Tae-wou nailed a cross-court winner.

"0-15!"

"Heh." Tae-woo smirked. "Better step it up, big guy. Or this'll be over fast."

He could tell—Nanjiroh wasn't even trying yet.

The Turning Point

Nanjiroh's next serve was faster.

Tae-woo returned it easily.

"Faster! Faster!" he jeered, dictating the pace.

Nanjiroh remained silent.

Then—

0-30.

0-40.

Tae-woo was dominating.

"Yes! That's our ace!"

"Tae-woo oppa! We love you!"

The crowd roared, their earlier frustration vanishing.

The Truth

"Pathetic." Kaji sighed. "That wasn't even 70% of Nanjiroh's real serve."

"What?!"

Coach Park, who understood Japanese, paled.

"That… wasn't his full power?!"