Two-dimensional Life Starting from Fuyuki City/the World's First Master Huang Man Wants to Be G

Tezuka Kunimitsu said these words coldly.

Everyone understood what he meant.

Ryuzaki Sakurano and the others had no choice but to silently call Echizen Ryoma's name and support him.

"Student Yukinoshita, should we stop their competition?"

After hearing what Mo Yi said, Totsuka Ayaka also turned pale with shock, and asked worriedly.

"You bastard—"

Xue Naozi stared fiercely at Mo Yi, the hateful guy, everything he said seemed to come true, if true, it would be terrible.

The kind-hearted Yukinoshita Yukino couldn't bear the murderous tennis incident in front of her.

But when she was about to go up, and even took one foot, Mo Yi said with a grin:

"Just kidding, haha."

"···"

Xue Naozi clenched her fists, black air radiated from her whole body, and muttered:

"Only this guy, I will never forgive him, I will definitely kill him."

"Gollum—"

Totsuka Ayaka and Hikigaya Hachiman walked away nervously, so as not to be caught by Yukinoshita Yukino who had obviously turned black and sacrificed the flag.

"Um(⊙o⊙)..."

Echizen Ryoma looked at Mo Yi speechlessly, and complained frantically in his heart that it was so difficult for him to make the path of witnessing a higher realm even if he died. You fucking told me that you were joking.

Grass mud horse! !

Everyone also broke away from the tense atmosphere, and many students who were about to rush forward to stop it, or had already dialed the alarm or the hospital phone, couldn't help but uttered the same voice as Echizen Ryoma—MMP!

"but--"

Mo Yi looked at the obviously relieved Ryoma and said:

"Although there will be no danger to life, it may be very uncomfortable, um, much more uncomfortable than death!"

"Are you really mentally prepared?"

Echizen Ryoma looked at the maddening senior in front of him, nodded and said:

"Come on, Senior Mo Yi."

Mo Yi didn't say anything else, he threw up a new tennis ball, and then hit a serve to Echizen Ryoma that was no different from a novice.

Although Echizen Ryoma was puzzled, he still swung this serve that anyone who had learned tennis could return.

Just at this time--

"Echizen Ryoma, I like you!"

Echizen Ryoma looked at the orange-haired girl with two ponytails who confessed to him in a daze.

Ball [-]: Senior Mo Yi, you are a devil

My name is Echizen Ryoma, and I am a high school student. In the last year of campus life, I want to leave some good memories, so I plan to set foot on the stage of the campus festival.

In order to successfully be on the stage of the campus festival, I found two like-minded classmates, Ogiso Yukina and Kasa Touma, and worked hard for the common goal together.

However, just now, the school belle Ogiso Yukina confessed to herself, facing the other party's undeniable wish, I agreed.

···

But fate made a joke with me, until the end, I found out that the person I like is not Xuecai, but East Malaysia.

I tried my best to kiss Dong Ma, but suddenly, she pushed me away forcefully, shouting loudly with tears all over her face:

"Why are you so proficient! How many times have you kissed Yukina!? How far do you have to throw me away before you are willing!?"

······

"boom--"

When I watched East Malaysia leave our country by plane, the world in front of me suddenly shattered like a mirror.

"Dragon Horse—"

Ryuzaki Sakurano looked at Echizen Ryoma worriedly.

The previous senior named Mo Yi sent a serve to Ryoma that even she could resist. When she was still confused, Ryoma naturally swung back.

But Longma hit this simple serve to the net, and then stayed there for half a minute. In this situation, anyone can see that something is wrong.

"Snapped--"

Echizen Ryoma's racket slipped from his hand, his eyes were looking up at the sky at forty-five degrees, tears kept flowing, because everyone was quietly watching the strange development of the matter, so Aigaku and others could clearly hear what Echizen Ryoma muttered again— —

"It doesn't matter what the white album is.

Because there are no more songs to sing about.

There is no need for a love that cannot be conveyed.