met free Chapter 60 The Terrifying "Demon King"
Chapter 60 The Terrifying "Demon King"
He changed out of his suit into Hyotei's grey-white starting tracksuit, put on his sneakers, and left the company carrying his training record board.
The car is already waiting downstairs.
Thirty minutes later, he pushed open the side door of the iron net gate of the Hyotei Tennis Club.
The atmosphere in the stadium was still electric.
More than two hundred people ran around in different areas, the sound of balls hitting the shuttlecock echoing everywhere. The group of teenagers who had been defeated by him three weeks ago now all had a fighting spirit on their faces.
Wang Yueling twirled a black marker between her fingers, her posture languid and casual, as she casually swept her gaze across the room.
Over in the fitness zone, the non-regulars are doing shuttle runs. Before, some people would slack off after five sets, but now no one complains even after ten sets.
It wasn't because we were afraid of his scolding, but because after three weeks, everyone's foundation had become much stronger, and we could feel the progress. That confidence of "I really am getting stronger" was more effective than any intimidation.
He walked along the edge of the field.
As I passed by the basic practice area, a first-grader was practicing his serve. His movements were much cleaner than before, but his wrist was still a bit tight.
Wang Yueling stopped and watched for a while, then walked over and gently supported his wrist as he held the racket, raising it slightly.
"relax."
The first-grader blushed upon receiving the instruction, but his eyes shone brightly as he nodded vigorously, "Yes, Coach Dai!"
Wang Yueling patted him on the shoulder and continued walking forward.
When I arrived at the regular training area, Atobe was practicing high-speed, concentrated serves from the baseline.
One ball after another landed precisely in the inner corner of the service area; for ten consecutive balls, the error was no more than three centimeters.
This level of ball control precision is quite impressive among national-level players, while just three weeks ago he was scolded speechlessly by Mochizuki Ryo for missing the landing point by 10 to 15 centimeters.
Wang Yueling withdrew her gaze, then looked at the other trainees' training and recorded the data on the record board.
What he did over the past three weeks was quite simple: he used a "sea of questions" approach.
High-intensity repetitive training helps everyone develop muscle memory for their basic movements, and then a round-robin tournament pushes them to transform their training results into practical combat skills.
Simple and direct, but effective.
Wang Yueling raised her hand and slapped it twice. Everyone in the tennis club stopped what they were doing. More than two hundred members lined up neatly, and the atmosphere was so quiet it was almost solemn.
After undergoing hellish training mode.
Hyotei has been completely transformed. No one is slacking off or chatting. Everyone stands tall and straight, with focused eyes, and even their breathing is extremely soft.
Of course, the most important thing is their deep-seated respect for this acting coach.
Ryo Mochizuki walked to the front of the line, glanced around indifferently, and handed the updated weekly schedule to Ogisuke Taki without saying a word.
That one look was enough to make the backs of the several regulars in the front row stiffen.
Jiro secretly shrank his neck, burying his curly hair further into his collar, afraid of being the first to be called on. He had secretly stayed up all night browsing through Marui's merchandise collection, and almost got late this morning. If he got caught, his autographed photos would be confiscated again.
"I've seen the results of this week's round-robin tournament."
Mochizuki Ryou finally spoke, her voice light and languid, "All regulars will advance to the advanced menu. Shishido Ryo will be ranked first among regulars, and the basic pass rate for non-regulars will increase by 40%."
"It's a little better than I expected."
The members quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
But the next second, the boy's tone suddenly turned cold, and his words still had that familiar flavor: "But it's still too bad. The gap between the starters and non-starters is still outrageous, and there are still tons of fundamental flaws. With this level of skill, if you go out and play in a competition, you'll still get crushed."
The members hung their heads, none of them daring to refute.
Everyone knows that this substitute coach may seem gentle, but when he gets sarcastic, he can be so harsh that he can drive people to despair.
The most terrifying thing is.
After being scolded, the person seems to be under a spell, not only unable to generate any hostility, but also unable to help but reflect: Is it true that I am incompetent?
Over time, the department quietly gave him the title of "Demon King".
They fear him, respect him, and depend on him even more.
Mochizuki Ryo didn't say anything more and gestured for Atobe to step forward.
Atobe Keigo wiped his sweat with a towel; the back of his gray-white tracksuit was soaked, and a few strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead, but his glamorous aura remained undiminished.
She walked to his side with her arms crossed, her icy blue eyes sweeping across the room. She lightly touched her beauty mark with her fingertip, exuding an aura of imperial authority: "Ah, still basic training today. This afternoon, a new round of points-based tournaments will begin. The top ten from each group will compete against each other, and points will be reset to zero."
After saying that, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers in a grand manner.
The minister's order was issued.
The team responded enthusiastically and quickly dispersed to their respective locations.
Atobe took the water bottle from Kabaji and drank a couple of sips, then looked up at Mochizuki Ryo and raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Shall we make our official debut today, Shishido and Ootori?"
"Yes." Mochizuki Ryo nodded, a hint of certainty flashing in his eyes. "Hyotei's doubles weaknesses are too obvious. Shinobu and Mukahi can't carry the team alone. It's time to give the whole team some confidence."
Atobe paused, holding the water bottle. His icy blue eyes lingered on Mochizuki Ryou's face for two seconds before a smile slowly appeared.
"It's only been two weeks of intensive training. Isn't it too early to test the results now?"
"Won't."
Wang Yueling tucked the scoreboard under her arm and put her hands in her sports jacket pockets. "I've been practicing privately for two weeks now, I need to take it out on the court and put it to the test. You'll only know if it's a mule or a horse when it runs, right?"
Atobe wiped the sweat from his brow, draped a towel over his shoulder, and gestured with his chin toward the court: "I also think this doubles match is quite interesting. Ryo's defensive range and footwork have improved a lot in the past two weeks, and his coordination with Chotaro is better than I expected."
"Then it's settled."
Wang Yue Ling wrote something on the notepad, then glanced at Atobe, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Keigo, your eye for talent has gotten better and better lately."
Atobe snorted, folded the towel, and placed it on the stool: "When has my taste ever been bad?"
"That's right."
Wang Yueling readily agreed, saying, "Grandpa is the best."
A hint of anticipation flashed in Atobe's icy blue eyes: "Hmm~ I'd like to see just how strong this combination you've personally crafted really is."
Training continued in full swing, and no one dared to slack off even slightly.
Wang Yueling continued to move between the various venues, occasionally stopping to correct movements, her sharp tongue precise and sarcastic.
The members were already used to his presence, and also used to the slight chill down their spines when those bright blue eyes were fixed on them.
"If ancient martial arts tennis were stripped of all unnecessary movements and fancy tricks, it would be a direct, uninterrupted match!"
"Chonghong, imitation is not copying; add your own understanding!"
"Oginosuke, analyze the data faster! Hesitation will lead to defeat!"
"Lower your center of gravity! You're playing tennis, not ballet!"
"Chōtarō, move the landing point three centimeters to the right. From your current angle, it's too comfortable for your opponent to receive it with their backhand."
Feng Changtaro blushed and immediately adjusted his posture. He served the ball again, and it landed steadily in the corner of the sideline.
"Barely acceptable," Wang Yueling said calmly.
Feng breathed a sigh of relief, a light shining in her eyes.
Shishido, who was standing next to him, turned around and glanced at Mochizuki Ryo without saying anything, but he tightened his grip on the racket in his hand.
Knowing that he was waiting for him to find fault, Wang Yueling played along and said, "Liang, your center of gravity wasn't low enough in that volley just now. Lower it by five centimeters. You're a net wall now, not a net goalkeeper."
Shishido's lips twitched, and he shifted his weight downwards.
Feng suppressed a laugh and didn't dare to make a sound.
"continue."
As Mochizuki Ryo turned to walk towards another court, he heard Shishido's muffled voice behind him: "He was too lenient with his insults today."
Feng replied softly, "Senior, Ling is right."
Shishido snorted, but when he stood in front of the net again, he lowered his center of gravity even further.
As Wang Yueling listened to their whispers, the corners of her mouth curved into a barely perceptible smile.
When I arrived at the court where Jiro was, he was forcing himself to practice net play, but his eyelids kept drooping and his head kept nodding, like a sleepy little chick.
"Ci Lang." Wang Yueling stood on the sidelines, his tone not heavy.
Three seconds later, Jiro jolted awake, feeling his icy gaze. He instantly snapped to attention, straightening his back ramrod straight. Turning around, he saw his deskmate expressionlessly tapping the edge of his notepad with a pen.
The meaning behind that expression was clear: Come here and get scolded.
Jiro walked over with his head drooping, like a kitten caught doing something wrong by its owner, muttering, "Ling... Coach! I wasn't asleep! Really!"
"You slept for one minute and seventeen seconds during training, and you were distracted for forty-three seconds in the last round." Wang Yueling's tone was calm, and her timing was frighteningly precise. "Logically speaking, this shouldn't happen again after the treatment. You... were secretly shopping for merchandise in the group last night, weren't you?"
Cilang's ears turned red, and he lowered his head even further.
"Do you want me to call your mother and talk to her about what you did all night instead of sleeping?"
Jiro's face instantly fell. He lunged forward and grabbed Mochizuki Ryo's arm, almost knocking the pen out of his hand. "Ryo, I was wrong! I'll keep practicing! Don't take my Bunta photos, and don't call my mother!"
"If you do it again, all the remaining autographed photos will be confiscated, and your training load will double." Wang Yueling pulled his hand off her sleeve expressionlessly, her strength not heavy but firm, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"No...!" Jiro cried out, but dared not argue. He could only grip his racket tightly and concentrate.
What he fears most now is not the extra training, but having his photos confiscated.
And then there's the craving.
Ling somehow obtained rare autographed photos of Marui, candid shots from backstage, and limited-edition Polaroid photos. Each autograph even had a small heart drawn next to it.
For the sake of the photos, he endured three weeks without feeling sleepy, even practicing interception in his dreams.
Wang Yueling looked at his determined expression and a smile flickered in her eyes.
He had been using this tactic for three weeks, and had confiscated a total of ten rare Marui Bunta merchandise items from Jiro.
Every time he collected the lamb, the little lamb would cling to his leg with tears in her eyes, not wanting him to leave. He would always pull his leg away expressionlessly and walk away.
I didn't expect Bunta Marui's exclusive autographed photos to be so appealing. Looks like I'll have to contact that little pig again and order some more.
After expressing his feelings, he turned and walked towards the doubles court where Shinobu and Mukahi were playing.
In these three weeks, Shinobu and Mukahi have made tremendous progress.
The once-hidden skills he used to keep secret have now been mastered to a stable and precise level. His tidal volleys are fluid and unpredictable, with pinpoint landings. His short, half-arc shots are deceptively fast and powerful, keeping his error rate extremely low.
Xiang Ri's physical strength has also made a qualitative leap.
No longer panting after just a few minutes, his aerial maneuvers are now nimble and fluid. Inspired by Wang Yueling, he developed a new special skill—"Myriad Flowers Scattering."
This new trick still falls under the category of special skill shots. By making the ball change direction in a dazzling manner in the air, it confuses the opponent and allows them to score points.
The duo of Shinobu and Mukahi have become increasingly coordinated, with smooth doubles transitions, and are no longer the flawed pair they once were.
"Yuushi, the Tidal Interception rhythm can be a little faster!"
Standing on the sidelines, Wang Yueling reminded him, "Yue Ren, don't just focus on showing off in 'Myriad Flowers Flying,' prioritize practicality!"
"Got it!" Xiang Ri replied, flipping in mid-air and changing direction with extremely swift movements.
Shinobu pushed up his glasses, a faint smile playing on his lips. He was now completely convinced of Mochizuki Ryo's abilities; not only was this person ridiculously good at tennis, but his judgment of opponents, his coaching, and his team training were all incredibly precise and ruthless.
They scolded harshly, taught meticulously, and used both kindness and severity to mold the entire Hyotei team into an iron plate.
We can't afford to mess with them, we really can't afford to mess with them.
-
During lunch break, the area under the banyan tree next to the tennis court is especially lively.
The tennis team's regulars sat together, sharing their lunchboxes.
Jiro munched on his rice ball, occasionally glancing furtively at Mochizuki Ryo's backpack, his eyes sparkling with longing for an autographed photo.
Wang Yueling felt helpless under his gaze, so she took out two limited-edition Polaroid photos from her bag and handed them over: "Your performance this week was satisfactory, here's your reward."
"Wow! Thank you, Ling!" Cilang's eyes lit up. He carefully took the gift, tucked it into his pocket like a treasure, and smiled broadly.
Mukahi, munching on a meat and egg sandwich, leaned close to Oshitari and whispered, "Where did Ryo get so many rare photos of Marui? That's amazing!"
Shinobu pushed up his glasses, a playful glint in his eyes: "Probably... an exchange of dessert recipes?" He had accidentally overheard Mochizuki Ryo making a phone call to get dessert recipes, which he used to trick Rikkai Daimaru, and the next day he had a stack of autographed photos in his hand.
Wang Yueling's ears twitched slightly. She coughed lightly, picked up a piece of fried pork chopstick with the serving chopsticks, and stuffed it into his mouth. "Even eating can't shut you up?"
Shinobu almost choked to death. He drank a few sips of water to calm down, then smiled, pushed up his glasses, and continued the topic, afraid of being teased again.
She pulled a romance novel from her pocket and waved it in front of him. The cover featured pink cherry blossoms and two anime characters back-to-back. "This one arrived yesterday. The male lead is a rich young master who goes to sea to pursue his love, but he gets struck by lightning, falls into the sea, and loses his memory. The female lead is heartbroken when she finds out, and applies for a job as a cleaner at the male lead's house..."
Wang Yueling glanced at the cover, and after hearing Shinobu's story summary, her lips twitched in exasperation: "What kind of outrageous, melodramatic plot is this?"
"I think so too." Ren Zu nodded in deep agreement, turned a couple of pages, pointed to a passage, and read it aloud: "'Woman, even if I, Simon Longteng, search the entire ocean, I will find you.'"
"At the time, the male protagonist's cruise ship was sailing in a thunderstorm. He was holding an umbrella, and because the umbrella ribs were made of metal, they formed a path for electricity, and he was struck by lightning and fell into the sea."
"...So how did they end up together?"
"The male lead has a severe cold and a fever of 50 degrees Celsius. He awakens his memories and takes the opportunity to grab the female lead's hand and say a lot of his true feelings."
Wang Yueling thought about it seriously: "50 degrees is still alive?! And he can still confess?!"
"Yes. The female lead was incredibly moved and agreed."
The two looked at each other simultaneously, then said at the same time, "You're sick."
Mukahi, who was stretching nearby, peeked over and asked what they were talking about. Shinobu said they were discussing classic romance tropes.
Xiang Ri immediately became interested, joined the discussion, and contributed a new case. He said his cousin had just finished reading a book last week where the male protagonist, in order to pursue a female protagonist who was a professional tennis coach, pretended that he couldn't play tennis and lost both legs in an accident. He hated the female protagonist, became a coach himself, and finally played against the team led by the female protagonist in the national tournament.
Wang Yueling was brutally defeated by the plot and commented with a few words: "This is even more insane."
The three formed a makeshift book review group and had a lively discussion on the bench.
When Atobe passed by, he overheard their conversation, paused for a moment, and gave them a look that said, "You three are so boring."
But he didn't leave. He stood there and listened to Oshitari's analysis of the protagonist's thought process, and finally added a comment: "That scene where he pretended not to know how to play tennis was so fake. People who truly love tennis would never pretend not to know how."
The three of them looked up at him simultaneously. Shinobu adjusted his glasses and said with a smile, "Kei, you've started reading romance novels too?"
Atobe left with the words, "I don't watch anything that's not flashy," and turned to leave.
Wang Yueling leaned back on the bench and chuckled as she watched his hurried retreating figure.
For the past three weeks, getting together to joke and complain about the plot has become a regular activity at Hyotei.
Renzu is a senior researcher of romance novels, responsible for providing materials, Wangyue Ling is responsible for sharp criticism, and Xiang Ri adds folk examples from the side.
Occasionally, Jiro would join in, but he would always fall asleep while listening. When he woke up, he'd find the topic had jumped three times, and he'd ask blankly, "Is that male lead still soaking in the sea?"