Haikyuu: Zero To Almighty-Chapter 546: The World Championship

The FIVB Volleyball Men's Club World Championship—commonly referred to as the Club World Championship—is an international men's volleyball competition organised by the FIVB (Fédération Internationale de Volleyball).

Unlike the World Championship, where teams represent their nations, the Club World Championship features top-tier professional club teams, representing the pinnacle of volleyball from across every continent.

This year's tournament includes eight teams:

Host: Italy's Trentino Volley (automatically qualified without needing to compete in the CEV Champions League)

Europe Champions League Winner: Poland's LUK Lublin

Europe Champions League Runner-Up: Russia's Nizhnev Club

South America Club Champion: Argentina's CA San Juan

South America Runner-Up: Brazil's ASAS São Paulo

Asia Club Champion: Japan's Ryujin Club

Asia Runner-Up: Qatar's Al-Rayyan Club

Africa Club Champion: Congo's Mazembe Club

These eight teams will be divided into groups, playing a round-robin followed by knockout matches to ultimately determine the best club in the world.

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In July, the participating clubs submitted their final 12-man rosters to the FIVB.

For Japan's Ryujin Club, the lineup was as follows:

(T/N: Of course, this is a fictional setup—no single Japanese club could realistically compete at this level, so this "All-Star Team" was assembled to represent Japan on the world stage.)

Outside Hitters: Kiryū Wakatsu, Bokuto Kōtarō, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Ojiro Aran

Middle Blockers: Hirugami Fukurō, Meian Shūgo, Hondo Sakuma, Nitta Asahiro

Opposite Hitters: Kunimi Akira, Hoshiumi Kōrai

Setters: Miya Atsumu, Iizuna Tsukasa

Liberos: Komori Motoya, Heiwajima Toshirō

At that moment, the entire team had been gathered by Coach Suzaku at the Ajinomoto Training Centre.

"Didn't expect to be on the same team as you, Bokuto," Kiryū Wakatsu said with a smile.

"Wakatsuuuu~! Same here, this is awesome!" Bokuto Kōtarō beamed, throwing his hands up in joy.

"Atsumu, Rintarō's not on the roster, huh," Ojiro Aran glanced over at the middle blockers. They were all familiar faces from after their high school days.

"Guess it's not surprising Oikawa didn't make it…but even Kageyama's gone overseas now," Miya Atsumu muttered, for some reason commenting on someone completely unrelated.

"Atsumu, I meant that we're the only ones from Inarizaki," Aran continued. "Heisuke didn't make the cut either."

"Yeah, well, that's fine. I'm gonna beat all of them anyway."

"If only Osamu were still playing…" Aran murmured. "Even that guy from Aoba Johsai got selected. If Osamu had stuck with volleyball, he definitely had a shot."

"Aoba Johsai?" Atsumu perked up at the mention.

"Ah, right!" Atsumu suddenly pointed at someone across the court. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

It was Kunimi Akira.

"Che." Kunimi shot him an annoyed glance. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ugh…" Atsumu scowled. In his mind, Kunimi had always been around the same level as that self-absorbed guy Osamu, so he'd never really taken him seriously. They hadn't even crossed paths in last season's playoffs.

"Loser." Kunimi said the word softly, turning away without another glance.

"HUH?!!!"

A vein bulged on Atsumu's forehead. "What did you just say?!"

Kunimi looked back, feigning confusion. "Oh, I assumed you only fell short in volleyball skill compared to Taichi. Didn't expect your hearing to be worse too."

He enunciated clearly, word by word:

"L-O-S-E-R."

"FIGHT ME!!" Atsumu shouted, shoving past Aran and storming straight toward Kunimi, practically headbutting him.

"Cut it out, you two!"

Two large hands suddenly clamped down on the backs of both their necks.

"You're both adults, aren't you? You wouldn't be acting like a couple of kids now, would you?" came a hearty laugh from Iwaizumi Hajime, the team's physical trainer.

"Yes, Iwaizumi-senpai," Kunimi replied, glancing to the left.

"Ack—okay, okay, I get it! Could you let go now?" Atsumu grumbled from the right.

"Haha, no problem—get along, alright?" Iwaizumi Hajime released the two and gave them both hearty slaps on the back.

Miya Atsumu sheepishly returned to Ojiro Aran's side. "Didn't expect Aoba Johsai to have two guys here. Though technically, Iwaizumi only counts as half, since he's not a player."

"Wait, that means Inarizaki wins!"

"What are you on about?" Aran rubbed his temple, exasperated.

"Seijou, Fukurōdani, Kamomedai, Mujinazaka—just one guy each. But we have two!" Atsumu said in a conspiratorial whisper. "You get it, Aran? We win!"

"But Itachiyama has three people." Aran reluctantly followed Atsumu's twisted logic.

"You serious?!"

"Iizuna Tsukasa, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Komori Motoya," Aran counted flatly. "You should remember them."

Of course Atsumu remembered—it was Itachiyama who had crushed Inarizaki twice in the finals, earning themselves the title of "The Kings," while Inarizaki had to settle for being the strongest challengers.

"Damn it! All because that idiot Osamu ran off to make rice balls…" Atsumu grumbled. "By the way, I haven't seen Rintarō or Heisuke anywhere?"

"..." Aran's face seemed to deepen with frustration. "Were you even listening to me earlier? I literally just told you that."

"You did?"

Seeing Atsumu's genuinely confused expression, Aran snapped.

"What the hell—now you look like you're actually hearing me for the first time?! I've been talking to you this whole time!"

Atsumu flinched at the outburst and abruptly bowed at a perfect ninety degrees. "I'm sorry, Aran!"

"Wha—what's with you?! Apologising so earnestly out of nowhere—what's that supposed to mean?!" Aran stammered, caught completely off guard. "D-damn it, now you're making me want to forgive you!"

Like he'd seen a ghost, Aran turned and fled, leaving Atsumu chasing after him.

"Why are you running?!"

A sudden gust of wind swept through the gym as Atsumu sprinted past. Sakusa Kiyoomi, who had been chatting with Iizuna and Komori nearby, wrinkled his nose in disgust and tightened his mask.

"Idiot. He's becoming more and more like Bokuto."

"That's kind of harsh," Komori said worriedly. "But…are you getting along okay with the rest of the team?"

BANG!

"Hey, everyone!"

The gym doors burst open with a loud slam, and all heads turned toward the noise.

Striding in at the front was a man who wasn't particularly tall—visibly under 180 cm—but carried himself with commanding presence. His slicked-back hair gleamed under the lights, not a strand out of place. Perched on the bridge of his nose was a pair of dark, intimidating sunglasses, the kind that glinted coldly at the edges. He wore a sharp black suit tailored perfectly to his muscular frame, its fabric catching the light with a steely sheen.

Behind him, a phalanx of massive men marched in single file, each one just as imposing as the last. Dressed identically in black suits, they were like mobile walls of muscle. Easily averaging over two meters tall, their hulking figures radiated raw physical power, and their mere presence felt like a wall of pressure.

"Wh-what…the Mafia?!"

"Yaku!" Iwaizumi beamed and strode forward.

"Yo!" Yaku Morisuke casually removed his sunglasses. "Brought my whole squad to settle the score with you guys!"

Radiating a presence of a Mafia Boss, Yaku Morisuke had arrived—with his team from Russia—Nizhnev Club, responding to the invitation for the Club World Championship!

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