Hey everyone!
Just a quick heads-up — this chapter was missing, and even the original author didn't post it. So, the next chapter may feel like it skips ahead a bit or lacks some context.
To keep the story flowing, I've written my own version of what might have happened during those missing parts, based on the characters and storyline. I've done my best to stay true to the original tone and direction.
Please also note that there are a few other chapters missing earlier on, and there might be more missing in the future. If that happens, I'll continue to fill in the gaps as best I can or you can just ignore my chapter as some random bullshit or an advertisement.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Whistle!
The gym resounded with tension as Akira prepared to serve again.
Karasuno was up by 5 points, and Akira had already delivered multiple devastating serves—each one unpredictable, unreadable, and nearly impossible to receive.
Across the net, Mujinazaka stood frozen, eyes locked on his every movement.
"He's too calm..."
"I can't read anything from his posture..."
That thought echoed through the minds of Mujinazaka's receivers. Was it going to be another powerful jump serve? A jump float? A hybrid? Every possibility twisted into doubt.
Tap.
Akira tossed the ball into the air again—slightly lower this time.
The toss looked too shallow for a power serve, yet too sharp for a float.
What is it?!
The moment his palm connected with the ball—Bang!—the gym echoed with the sharp sound of skin against leather.
Wooooosh!
The serve curved just slightly in the air, dipping sharply toward the corner of the court.
"Line shot!"
Mujinazaka's libero lunged for it.
Thud!
He made contact—but the ball ricocheted awkwardly off his arm and veered toward the side wall.
Out of bounds.
Whistle!
Karasuno scores again!!
The crowd stirred, and even the announcers were at a loss for words.
"That… was a hybrid serve."
"Was it… intentional?" one of them muttered. "He blended the mechanics of a jump serve and a float!"
"No way… Akira's serve is evolving mid-game?"
. . . . . . . . .
On Mujinazaka's bench, Coach Kusumi clenched her fists.
"He's toying with their nerves."
"He's not just strong—he's reading their mental state."
"He's serving against their minds, not just their formation."
. . . . . . . . .
Meanwhile, Akira silently stepped back again. No celebration. No fist pump. Just focus.
The ball was handed to him.
His eyes scanned the back row of Mujinazaka again—no expression on his face.
Back across the net, tension built like a storm cloud. Mujinazaka tried to keep their composure, but the nervous sweat, the shifting feet, and the clenched jaws said it all.
They weren't just receiving a ball anymore.
They were facing the uncertainty of it.
And Akira? He thrived in that uncertainty.
Whistle.
The toss. The strike.
This time, the serve floated—almost slow motion compared to the last one—but dead silent, with zero rotation.
A jump float again!!
The libero hesitated, expecting a fast jump serve—and his delay cost them.
Thump!
The ball hit the court again—untouched.
The crowd gasped.
That was three points in a row since the last chapter—and each serve was different.
. . . . . . . . .
"Coach..." one of Mujinazaka's assistants whispered nervously. "Should we call for a timeout?"
"No," Kusumi responded firmly.
"If we burn the timeout now, we'll only confirm their momentum."
"But the players—"
"They need to break this on the court. Or they won't recover their rhythm at all."
. . . . . . . . .
Back in the Karasuno stands, even Hinata's jaw was slightly open.
"Is Akira even human?" he whispered.
Kageyama, standing next to him on the court, smirked to himself.
"He's still holding back."
. . . . . . . . .
Akira walked back again, unbothered, breathing steadily.
This time, Mujinazaka made a change—they shifted their formation. Pulled the libero further in. Moved Kiryū one step forward to cover the blind spot.
They were adapting.
Finally.
Akira's eyes narrowed. He noticed the slight shift in formation.
Toss.
Jump.
Swing.
The ball zipped low and fast, just skimming the top of the net—an ultra-low jump serve!!
Kiryū moved instinctively—
Boom!
He received it.