Himeko glanced back over her shoulder, staring at the ball that lay against the wall as if it were mocking her.

  Her eyes shifted to Lisa. The libero's face was painted in frustration, but her body betrayed her; her limbs were visibly trembling.

  Slowly, Himeko turned back to face the net. Kevin wasn't smiling. There was no trace of his easy humor; instead, he wore an expression of absolute concentration - an expression he had almost never shown her during their entire training camp. The man standing there now resembled the demon she had analyzed in the championship VODs, not the playful partner she had grown accustomed to.

  The ball was cycled back to the Dragons' side, landing in Kevin's hands.

  "Service," Coach Elena commanded, punctuating the order with a sharp whistle.

  Tap, tap.

  Kevin bounced the ball against the hardwood. Once. Twice.

  His face remained the same intense concentration, but beneath the surface, hesitation churned. He wondered if she would understand what he was trying to say with this match. Why did she have to make things so difficult? During the camp, they had been in perfect sync, a resonance that proved they could elevate each other to new heights.

  Was this, unleashing his honest, unbridled power and passion - really the right way to reach her?

  Kevin closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then snapped them open.

  None of those doubts mattered.

  For Himeko Nakamura, he knew, anything less than 100% was simply not enough.

  With a confident stride, Kevin tossed the ball high and forward.

  Every step he took seemed to transmute the hardwood floor into gold, possessed by the touch of Midas. Every micro-movement he made: the slight dip of his shoulders, the deep coil of his knees, the backward sweep of his arms preparing for takeoff transcended perfection itself.

  One step behind the service line, he leaped into the air.

  Kevin whipped his arm forward, his sculpture resembling Apollo drawing a divine bow. The ball obeyed its master's command instantly, rocketing straight toward Lisa once again.

  This time, having witnessed the true power of the serve, Lisa did not flinch. The ball still hurtled toward her with terrifying force and velocity, screaming through the air like a demon intent on devouring its prey. Yet, Kevin had personally delivered this challenge to her; the only question remaining was whether she possessed the strength and skill to answer it.

  Lisa clamped her hands together, extending her platform forward and sinking into a deep squat to anchor her balance.

  BOM!

  The ball collided with the meat of her forearms, the rotation so violent it sent a jolt of agonizing pain shooting through the professional libero's nerves.

  Lisa gritted her teeth, straining every muscle to redirect the ball toward Willow, but the rotation was simply impossible. She couldn't control the ball; the ball was controlling her, the sheer drilling force driving her platform backward, crushing her arms against her own chest.

  Helpless against the onslaught, the ball exploded off her arms, sailing wildly out of bounds.

  Kevin studied Himeko's face. She looked more stunned now than in any moment they had shared before. Her expression was a riddle, difficult to decipher, yet beneath the shock lay something that looked far more like respect than irritation. If she wouldn't respect him as a friend, then she would be forced to respect him as a player. This was, perhaps, the very first time she truly acknowledged not just his ability, but his sheer presence to be on the same untouchable pedestal as Ivanka Symphony.

  TWEEEEEET!

  Kevin caught the ball with one hand.

  Tap. Tap.

  Kevin bounced the ball against the hardwood. Once. Twice.

  Kevin closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then snapped them open.

  The assaults arrived in a relentless rhythm, wave after crushing wave.

  Lisa's forearms were now a raw, angry shade of crimson, looking as though the skin might split and bleed in any second. Her breath rattled in her chest, harsh and ragged. She was drenched not just with the heat of exertion, but with the cold, clammy sweat of primal fear.

  There were moments when Coach Elena's hand twitched, her eyes darting to the bench to signal a substitution, yet every time, the blazing, defiant fire in Lisa's eyes stopped the command in her throat.

  The truth was: Lisa was panicking, and she was in agonizing pain. Yet, a question hung: what force was driving this introverted gamer, a girl who usually cared for nothing beyond her digital screens, to show such desperate?

  Himeko clenched her fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms, tormented by her inability to shield her teammate. Yet, amidst her frustration, a different emotion took root. In this brutal display, she found herself respecting Kevin's volleyball more than ever before.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Kevin struck the ball again. The power had not waned in the slightest.

  BOOM.

  The ball collided squarely with Lisa's forearms. The impact lifted the libero off her feet and threw her backward onto the floor. The ball, having won the collision, ricocheted lifelessly into the bottom of the net.

  TWEEEEEEEEEEET!

  Left with no other option, Coach Elena signaled the timeout. It was time to save Lisa from herself.

  The atmosphere on the Divers' bench was suffocatingly heavy. A thick silence shrouded the entire roster, and even Coach Elena remained wordless, struggling to find the right instruction. Faced with such an impossible force, what could they actually do to fight back?

  Efbi was pressing an ice pack against Lisa's forearms, and the libero's low, pained whimpers were the only sounds piercing the quiet.

  On the Dragons' bench, the mood wasn't much lighter. The team silently agreed that Kevin's serves had crossed the line into "excessive." Even the spiky-haired spiker, usually the first to crack a joke, sat in uncomfortable silence.

  Caeser, whose sense of chivalry ran deeper than his rough exterior suggested, stood up and grabbed Kevin by the collar.

  "What the hell are you doing, Kevin? What are you trying to prove?" He stared dead into Kevin's eyes.

  "They're going to face monsters next season. Today is just preparation." Kevin didn't flinch under Caeser's glare. His expression remained shadowed, his eyes dark as an abyss.

  "Couldn't you dial it back? Don't you think we could still dominate them without trying to take their heads off?"

  "So you're telling me I shouldn't give them my hundred percent?"

  They stared at each other for a long, tense moment. Caeser said nothing. Finally, he exhaled sharply and released his grip on Kevin's jersey.

  Kevin smoothed out his collar, turning his gaze back to the court as the whistle signaled the end of the timeout.

  "I aimed for angles that minimize long-term damage," Kevin said as he walked away. "If you step onto the court without the intent to fight, you've already accepted defeat."

  Both teams returned to the court, but the electric anticipation that had filled the gym earlier was gone, replaced by a heavy atmosphere.

  On the sidelines, Lisa sat slumped on the bench while Efbi pressed a bag of crushed ice against her throbbing forearms. The libero's eyes were red, burning with the tears of frustration rather than pain. She stared at the floor, consumed by the impotent rage of a gamer who had been disconnected in the middle of a boss fight, helpless to do anything but watch.

  Kevin glanced at the reserve libero stepping onto the court. She was young, and unlike Lisa, whose digital stoicism masked her nerves, this girl was visibly trembling.

  Kevin let out a quiet sigh. Sometimes, his own stubborn nature painted him into a corner. There was honor in breaking a shield that refused to crack, but there was no glory in crushing someone who was already broken before the play began.

  Once everyone was in position, the ball was tossed back to Kevin.

  He stood behind the service line, the ball heavy in his hand. His gaze drifted to Himeko. She wore the same face she always did: focused, stoic, unafraid. It was impossible to tell if his brutal dismantling of her teammates was inspiring her to rise or simply teaching her to hate him.

  Tap. Tap.

  Kevin bounced the ball against the hardwood. Once. Twice.

  He tossed the ball high. He caught his rhythm, his body coiling with the same terrifying power as before. But this time, his eyes scanned for the negative space.

  Kevin swung.

  BOOM!

  The ball slammed into the deep back corner of the court. The reserve libero hadn't even moved. She simply watched the ball land, paralyzed by the velocity.

  An ace. Kevin wouldn't torture those who weren't ready to accept the challenge. He would simply remove them from the equation entirely.

  BOOM!

  The next serve was a laser beam down the sideline. It landed inches from the paint.

  BOOM!

  This time, the Divers shifted back, expecting power. Kevin read the shift instantly. He altered his swing speed mid-air, contacting the ball with a deceptive pop. It floated over the net and died instantly, dropping like a stone into the center of the court while three Divers players dove desperately for a ball they had no hope of reaching.

  TWEEEEEEEEEEET!

  "End of the set!" Coach Elena called out. "Dragons win, 25-2."