Net King’s Beginning With Breathing Method

"Next, the World Cup round-robin tournament is about to start. The South Korean team will play against the Neon team!"

A loud broadcast sounded in the wide venue.

After a bilingual broadcast, the eight players expected to play on both sides also lined up in front of the net.

"It's finally about to start."

On the second floor stand very close to the stadium.

A young man wearing religious clothing with a cinnabar red dot on his brow frowned slightly.

"Oh, these damn sticks will do this."

Beside him, another dark-skinned muscular man yelled in disdain.

"Garda, pay attention to your words and deeds. I don't want to get into trouble here."

"Sharma, put away your set in front of me, I don't care about your caste."

The burly muscular man named Garda laughed.

His somewhat mocking words made the young man in religious clothes frown even more.

Pulling a distance away from the opponent without a trace, a trace of disgust emerged in Sharma's heart.

"Thailand's failure is doomed."

Sharma couldn't help but remember what the coach had said to him before he left.

Their India wants to dominate Asian tennis, the only thing they need to care about is three opponents.

One is China, the other is Neon, and Australia is forcibly included by the World Tennis Association.

All three have places where they can learn from India.

As for South Korea and Thailand, both of which are the top 32 in the world?

One is despicable and one is arrogant. It is destined to not go too far.

Thinking of this, Sharma even stopped paying attention to the Thai team leader who came to him again, and carefully observed the field with her eyes.

The team leader sent by Neon this time seemed a bit too young.

Before the net.

Jackie Yu smiled and shook hands with Park Minsu who was opposite.

Except for the eyelids that had obviously moved the knife, the other side looked really good in other respects.

Good temperament, handsome face.

But it's a pity that I did some disgusting things in the back.

"I hope we can have a friendly exchange this time."

Released his hand, Park Minsu smiled cheerfully.

At the same time, his gaze swept all the members of the Neon team inadvertently.

"Yes, we will also respond well to Captain Park's reception."

The shirt squinted his eyes and swept all the South Korean players in a hurry.

The atmosphere froze.

Park Minsu reacted quickly and smiled reluctantly, "That's good."

After speaking, both sides turned and walked towards their positions at the same time.

His face sank slightly, and Park Minxiu glanced at Li Dazhong with cold eyes. The latter was already pale with a layer of sweat on his forehead.

If something happens, then he is probably the one who was pushed out.

"Captain, it should be okay, even if it doesn't have that, but I think that the opponent's age should be a freshman in high school, and I am afraid that the strength will not be much stronger."

Quan Guangyao, No. 2 on the side, noticed the change in his captain's complexion, and hit a round.

Park Min-soo nodded, and then said in a low voice: "The action can be a little bigger during the game, and the referee will be on our side this time."

"Yes!" everyone in the South Korean team responded in unison.

"Even if you don't get the trick, but... I'm sure to win this game!"

Park Minsu smiled and looked at the large number of media on the sidelines, and suddenly roared in his heart.

...

"Next, the doubles number two match is about to start, with Lee Dae-jong and Russo Nam of the Korean representative team, and Yuma and Mutsu of the neon representative team."

"The players from both sides are invited to play."

The loud broadcast sounded again, and then it was overshadowed by the shouts of South Korean fans.

"Li Dazhong!"

"Russell South!"

In the commentary booth, the two commentators were excited.

"The player Li Dazhong is very good at running volleys and can accurately grasp the opponent's flaws. He is a very fast scorer."

"Well, Russell Nan is very good at bottom line defense because of his physique, and his strength is also at the level of a Hercules!"

"Hey, it looks like the Neon team has sent a pair of twins."

"I think it doesn't matter if you are twins. Our players have had experience in many competitions."

Scrolling back and forth through the slightly thin materials in their hands, the two commentators sang and sang and explained.

"Senior, check the two lows first, and then finish them."

On the side of the court, the shirt snorted leisurely.

He really couldn't stand the two silly explanations, and he didn't know which Korean genius invented it.

The commentary went directly to the scene?

"Um!"

The Mutsu brothers nodded tacitly, and their handsome faces were full of chill.

From morning till now, they have been holding back the fire.

After guessing the side.

"At the beginning of the game, the South Korean team representatives Lee Dae-jong and Russell Nam will serve, and the game will end!"

Nod.

Russell South, who is like an aerobics coach, stands in the backcourt.

After taking out a tennis ball from his pocket, he glanced around among the Mutsu brothers.

"Go there for me!"

He snorted, and then he threw the tennis ball in his hand abruptly.

Bang!

His toes were only slightly cushioned, and his arms were very thick and waved down in the air.

"Is this an anti-aircraft gun like Feng Chang Taro?"

Seeing this familiar movement, a hint of surprise flashed in Yuu Yu's eyes.

This guy named Russell Nan has put a lot of effort into serving.

Boom!

The tennis ball blew dullly on the ground, and then it flew straight out.

"15-0!"

The Mutsu brothers looked at each other, and both of them had a little more seriousness on their faces.

If they serve fast and vigorously, they also have to play a bit more vigorously.

After scoring a hit.

Russell Nan pretending to be chic, stroked his hair backwards: "How about it, are you scared?"

Then, a flash of flash struck.

Smiling, he threw the ball again.

Bang!

The tennis ball once again brought a violent whistle in the air.

But this time.

Snapped!

The racket in Mutsu Yuma's hand easily intercepted the path of the tennis ball.

"Although your serve is great, the trajectory is too simple."

A hint of sarcasm flashed in Mutsu Yuma's eyes.

In order to pursue the stability of the ball, the opponent sent it to the receiving area close to the center line just now.

Whizzing!

The tennis ball was pulled back by Mutsu Yuma, only to slash the bottom line diagonally.

"What's so good about?"

Huh!

At this moment, a figure quickly jumped to the front of the tennis ball, and it was Li Dazhong who was already ready to strike.

"At my speed, don't want your tennis to land!"

With a smug smile, his arm twitched.

Bang!

The tennis hit precisely on the side of Mutsu Yuma's foot, who was not close enough.

"30-0!"

"Wow, so handsome!"

On the sidelines, there was another violent cheer!

"It seems that the other side is still a bit capable."

The Mutsu brothers looked at each other, there was no trace of panic in their eyes.

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