Up until now, Fukuda had been guarding Nango.
This time, however, Barkley waved him off.
"I'll take him."
Fukuda frowned, clearly unwilling — but he wasn't the protagonist of this stage. He could only step aside and watch.
Barkley stood at the three-point line, clapping loudly.
"Come on, kid! Let's go!"
Nango smirked and dribbled forward slowly.
Barkley spread his arms wide. With that wingspan and size, once Nango entered his defensive range, escape would be nearly impossible.
Sound familiar?
Of course it did.
Nango bullied smaller players the same way all the time — he knew exactly what Barkley wanted.
So instead of forcing contact, he suddenly changed direction and accelerated.
Barkley reacted instantly and slid over to cut him off.
Left.
Right.
Left again.
Three sharp feints in a row — Barkley didn't bite.
He didn't retreat either.
But that…
Was exactly what Nango wanted.
The moment Barkley paused to read the play —
Nango dipped his knees and brought his hands together as if preparing to gather the ball.
Barkley lunged forward.
And in the next instant—
Nango's left hand dropped again.
One step past him.
A fluid fake.
The "Worship Buddha" fake.
Barkley froze, eyes wide, as Nango slipped by.
The crowd exploded.
He… beat him?!
An NBA MVP?!
"Amazing!!"
"He's just a high schooler?!"
"One more! One more!"
Nango finished the layup cleanly.
Aida Yayoi trembled slightly, nearly forgetting to press the shutter.
She thought the match was already decided.
Instead — she was watching a new star being born.
Nango ignored the cheers.
He was already thinking about the next possession.
That only worked because of the previous shot…
He won't fall for it twice.
By pure ability, he couldn't beat Barkley.
But with timing… tricks… and courage—
He could still shake him.
After all, someone with nothing to lose fears nothing.
Right now, he only needed one mindset:
Swing without hesitation.
Next possession — Barkley's ball.
He was genuinely irritated.
He had just been tricked by a random high school kid.
Unacceptable.
He backed Nango down immediately, using his massive hips to bulldoze toward the paint.
Nango was pushed backward step by step — completely powerless.
That body was simply unfair.
At the free-throw line Barkley spun—
BOOM!
A violent dunk.
After landing, he beat his chest and roared toward the sky like King Kong.
The crowd murmured.
"Is he… mad?"
"He actually got serious."
Kainan's bench looked uneasy.
Kiyota whispered, "Miss Aida… will he be okay?"
Yayoi smiled calmly.
"That's just his style."
Nearby, Lance the manager shook his head.
"…Idiot. Fighting a kid this seriously?"
Nango received the ball again at mid-court.
This time Barkley stayed near the arc, cautious.
As long as he didn't get blown by, he could stop everything.
So he waited.
But Nango didn't walk into the trap.
One step outside the line—
He stopped.
Rose instantly.
Released.
The shot flew almost straight upward — a noticeably quicker form than before.
Barkley reacted fast… but still late.
He turned, already convinced.
Rushed shot. Bad form. No way—
Swish.
Silence.
Then uproar.
"What?!"
"That went in?!"
"That had to be luck!"
"No — he was the national MVP!"
Even Lance stared, stunned.
This kid… wasn't ordinary.
Nango himself was surprised.
My touch is ridiculous today…
His usual jumper was a high-release two-motion shot — safer against defenders.
But against Barkley, that wasn't fast enough.
So he switched to a one-motion quick release — almost like drawing and firing a gun.
And now…
It was working.
He lowered his stance.
Time to plan the next attack.
Defense?
He could give that up.
Today—
He would win by scoring.