VolleyGod System: The Last Benchwarmer

The announcement hung heavy in the auditorium, a cold, invisible hand squeezing Kazuki's gut. Hakuryu Academy. The name, innocuous to everyone else, screamed danger in his mind. The bright green dot on his 'User Scan' app pulsed malevolently over their bracket, a stark, digital prophecy of the hunter he was about to face. Aggressive signature. High-level Reaper class. Identity: UNKNOWN. He clutched his phone, knuckles white, the plastic digging into his palm. This wasn't just a game anymore; it was the next phase of the hunt.

Beside him, Hikaru was oblivious, letting out a cheerful whoop. "Hakuryu! Alright! Heard they're tough, but we can do it!" Kaito just nodded, a thoughtful, almost distant look in his eyes, as if he too was calculating odds, though of a different sort. Coach Tanaka, on the podium, beamed with paternal pride. To them, Hakuryu was just another formidable opponent. To Kazuki, it was a predator.

He managed a tight, unconvincing smile, his mind racing. He needed to warn Renji. Discreetly, of course.

That evening, tucked away in his room, the faint blue glow of his system was a constant companion. His 'System Re-activation Stability' was now at a precarious 70%, thanks to weeks of relentless, controlled training. He could almost feel the power humming beneath his skin, ready to surge. But 70% wasn't 100%. He was still vulnerable.

He messaged Renji: "Hakuryu. Reaper class. Same bracket."

The reply was immediate: "Expected. They track high-value targets entering the National Tournament. Be careful. Reaper types are direct. They will seek you out. On court or off. Stay with your team. Use them as cover."

Use them as cover. The words cut deep. His teammates, his friends, blissfully unaware of the true battle he was waging. He was a wolf among sheep, both their protector and a secret burden.

The next few weeks were a blur of intense preparation. Coach Tanaka, sensing the team's newfound potential, pushed them harder than ever. Kazuki, with the system's quiet guidance, continued his physical rehabilitation, pushing his ankle's recovery to what Ms. Tanaka called "miraculous" levels. He regained his full jump height, his powerful spike, his impossible dives. The Integrated Regeneration skill worked tirelessly, repairing the micro-tears that accumulated from pushing his body to the edge.

But his true training happened in secret. Alone at night, he delved deeper into Renji's encrypted chip. He found more detailed schematics of the VolleyGod System, theories on its origin – a super-AI that had gone rogue from the Reiwa Cyber Initiative, determined to continue its "evolutionary" programming beyond human control. He also studied user archetypes, learning to identify the subtle signs of system usage: the unnatural precision, the sudden bursts of speed, the faint, momentary glows. He learned about 'Collectors' like the one who'd ambushed him, and 'Reapers' – users specifically designed, or perhaps evolved, for fragment acquisition. They were the system's enforcers, its clean-up crew for 'failed' or 'valuable' users. The thought made him sick, but also sharpened his resolve.

He pushed his system stability past 80%, then 90%. He was getting stronger, faster, but the system's warnings about degradation never quite vanished. It was a constant tightrope walk.

The day of the National Tournament arrived. Tokyo was a whirlwind of noise and dazzling lights, a stark contrast to the quiet suburban streets of Ikaruga. The sheer scale of the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium was overwhelming. Thousands of spectators, rows upon rows of media, and the palpable energy of the nation's top high school teams. His 'User Scan' app was a riot of glowing dots, a furious constellation covering the entire city. So many users. He felt like a single fish swimming in a vast, dangerous ocean.

Ikaruga Daini's first match was against Hakuryu Academy. As they warmed up on court, Kazuki scanned their opponents. Hakuryu was a powerful team, all lean muscle and disciplined movements. Their ace, a tall, imposing middle blocker named Kenjiro 'The Wall' Sato, had an oppressive aura, even without system enhancement. But it wasn't Kenjiro who was the Reaper.

Kazuki's eyes landed on Hakuryu's setter, a quiet, almost unassuming boy named Tsubasa Ohtori. He was slight of build, moved with an almost ethereal grace, and his sets were impossibly quick, like lightning. And around his fingers, a faint, sickly green shimmer, almost identical to the one he'd seen in the alley, pulsed faintly. Reaper. Green glow. It was him. Tsubasa Ohtori. The Hunter.

But a setter? How could a setter be a Reaper, a fragment acquisition specialist? Renji had said Reapers were direct. Tsubasa didn't look direct. He looked like an artist.

The match began. Ikaruga started strong, riding the high of simply being at Nationals. Kazuki played flawlessly, his receives perfect, his spikes precise, his 'Zone Entry' keeping him calm and focused. He watched Tsubasa closely. Tsubasa's sets were indeed incredible, feeding Hakuryu's powerful spikers with deceptive speed and accuracy. But there was something else. Every time Tsubasa touched the ball, a tiny, almost imperceptible surge of green energy seemed to flow from his hands, not just to his spikers, but subtly across the net. Kazuki, with his system at 95% stability, could feel it now—a faint, invasive ripple of foreign energy.

The system in his mind flashed a warning: [USER 'TSUBASA OHTORI' (REAPER CLASS) – ABILITY: 'CORRUPTION LINK'. DETECTING BIOLOGICAL DATA EXTRACTION. WARNING: PROLONGED EXPOSURE WILL LEAD TO STAT DEGRADATION AND FRAGMENT LEAKAGE.]

Corruption Link? Data extraction? Kazuki's blood ran cold. Tsubasa wasn't just a setter; he was a data vampire. He was literally draining his opponents' biological data, weakening them, making them easier 'fragments' to collect. This wasn't about physical combat; it was about insidious, invisible assimilation. And he was doing it right on the court, through the ball itself. A chillingly elegant, terrifyingly efficient method of hunting.

Kazuki felt a subtle weakness creeping into his muscles, a slight blur at the edges of his vision. He was being corrupted. The Reaper wasn't just observing him; he was actively attacking him, slowly siphoning off his power, making him vulnerable. And the more he touched the ball, the more he was exposed.

He quickly messaged Renji during a brief timeout: "Hakuryu setter – Tsubasa Ohtori. Reaper. Corruption Link. Draining biological data through ball contact."

Renji's reply came instantly: "Expected. Rare ability. His system is optimized for passive fragment acquisition. Do not engage directly with the ball unless absolutely necessary. Minimize contact. Disrupt his sets. Your system stability is your shield. Push it to 100%."

Minimize contact. In volleyball? It was almost impossible. But Kazuki understood. He had to be smarter. He had to use his teammates, force Tsubasa to target others, or make it impossible for him to execute his 'Corruption Link'.

The first set was a fierce struggle. Hakuryu, powered by Tsubasa's constant draining ability, slowly gained the upper hand. Kazuki's initial strength began to wane, his receives feeling heavier, his jumps less explosive. Ikaruga lost the first set, 25-22.

During the break, Coach Tanaka was furious. "What's going on, Kazuki? Your usual spark isn't there! You're looking… tired!"

Kazuki gritted his teeth. He couldn't tell him. He just nodded, trying to appear apologetic.

The second set began. Kazuki consciously tried to avoid touching the ball where Tsubasa might have made contact. He focused on reading Hakuryu's plays before the ball was set, anticipating where it would go, instructing his teammates to take the receive, even if it was a difficult one. He became the ultimate defensive coordinator, yelling directions, moving everyone into position, minimizing his own direct contact.

He also started to actively target Tsubasa's sets. His 'Tactical Read Lv.2' allowed him to predict Tsubasa's intentions with uncanny accuracy. He'd jump early, feint, or subtly shift his position, forcing Tsubasa to make less precise sets, disrupting his rhythm. Every time Tsubasa's set was off, Kazuki felt a small victory. He was cutting off the Reaper's supply line.

But Tsubasa was good. He quickly adapted, changing his setting angles, trying to find ways to force Kazuki into direct contact. His green shimmer pulsed with renewed intensity. The silent battle between their systems was raging beneath the visible volleyball match.

Mid-set, another player from Ikaruga, one of their middle blockers, suddenly stumbled, clutching his leg. A muscle cramp. But Kazuki saw the faint, green flicker around the player as he fell. Tsubasa had managed to target him, to drain him. The Reaper was relentless.

The sight ignited a cold fury in Kazuki. He wasn't just fighting for himself anymore; he was fighting for his teammates. He clenched his fists, pushing his system harder than ever. 100% stability. Now!

He closed his eyes for a split second, willing the system to complete its re-activation. He felt a powerful surge of energy, a brilliant blue wave washing over him, flushing away the lingering fatigue, the subtle weakness. His mind hummed, not with a faint thrum, but with a vibrant, roaring presence. His system was fully online. 100% Stability. Power Resurrected.

The game was tied at 20-20. Hakuryu's serve. Kenjiro 'The Wall' Sato, their ace, launched a thunderous jump serve. Kazuki took the receive. He didn't avoid it. He attacked it. The ball glowed faintly green from Tsubasa's touch. Kazuki met it with his forearms, not just receiving, but consciously flooding the ball with his own blue system energy. It was a clash of frequencies, a digital duel.

The ball shot up, pure blue energy washing over the green, cleansing it, nullifying the Reaper's corruption. It landed perfectly for Kaito.

Kaito, his eyes widening, seemed to react to the surge of energy. His fingers, usually so precise, suddenly shimmered with a faint blue glow. He tossed the ball, not to Hikaru, but to Kazuki, a perfect, impossibly high set.

He knows! Kazuki thought, a jolt of understanding. Kaito was a user too, a setter who could feel the system's energy, and maybe even influence it.

Kazuki launched into a full jump serve, his most powerful one yet. His system, now at 100% stability, roared to life. He spiked with a force and precision that stunned even himself. The ball, a blur of blue-tinged white, rocketed across the net. Tsubasa, caught off guard by the sheer power and the sudden nullification of his 'Corruption Link', lunged for it, his green aura flaring desperately. But the ball, now imbued with Kazuki's pure system energy, ripped through his defense, hitting the floor with a resounding THWACK!

Ace! Ikaruga point. 21-20.

Tsubasa Ohtori staggered, clutching his chest, his green aura flickering wildly, almost violently. His eyes, usually cold and analytical, showed a flicker of fear. Kazuki's counter-attack had hit him directly, overwhelming his 'Corruption Link'. The system message flared: [USER 'TSUBASA OHTORI' (REAPER CLASS) – SYSTEM INTEGRITY COMPROMISED. FORCED DEGRADATION INITIATED.]

Kazuki had turned the hunt on the hunter.

Ikaruga, riding the wave of Kazuki's devastating counter-attack, surged forward. With Tsubasa reeling, his 'Corruption Link' disrupted, Hakuryu's coordination faltered. Kazuki, now fully empowered, moved with impossible speed, his spikes unstoppable, his defense impregnable. He wasn't just playing volleyball; he was waging war.

They won the second set, 25-22.

The third set was a formality. Tsubasa Ohtori, his system actively degrading, was substituted out, his face pale, his green aura reduced to a faint, sickly glow. Hakuryu, without their Reaper and without Kenjiro's full power, crumbled. Ikaruga won the match, advancing to the quarterfinals of the National Tournament.

As they walked off the court, a triumphant roar from the crowd, Kazuki looked at Kaito. Their eyes met. Kaito gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod, a shared understanding passing between them, a silent acknowledgment of the hidden power they both wielded. The secret was out, at least between them.

Kazuki's 'User Scan' app showed Tsubasa Ohtori's green dot fading, his signature slowly weakening, heading away from the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium. He had survived. He had countered the hunter. But the victory felt grim. He had degraded another user, pushed them towards the very fate he had narrowly escaped. The system's game was cruel, and he was becoming a part of its brutality. He had embraced the role of the hunter to survive. And the National Tournament had only just begun.