"The Zone's consumption is this immense." Mibuchi Reo had once been brought into the Zone through Akashi's passes.
Of course, that wasn't the true Zone—it could only draw out 90% of the body's potential.
The consumption was significant, but not enough to exhaust someone this quickly. That 10% difference was far greater than he'd imagined.
"It's not just the Zone," Akashi said, one hand resting on the armrest, eyes fixed on the court.
"It was their strategy. From the very beginning, Yōsen fell into Seihō's trap."
Trap?
What trap?
The Rakuzan players turned to look at Akashi.
"They changed their pace this game not just because it was more efficient, but because Yuuto's fast breaks meant only Murasakibara could keep up."
"From the first quarter onward, Murasakibara was forced into countless sprints up and down the court. For someone his size, that's fatal."
Big men naturally expended more energy than guards. The paint demanded constant physical battles, with tip-ins and box-outs draining stamina.
More crucially, this game had Murasakibara being run like a dog by Yuuto.
Put it this way: even if Murasakibara hadn't accidentally entered the Zone, he probably wouldn't have lasted until the final whistle.
"From the very first possession, Yōsen was already behind."
Just like chess.
From the first move, victory might already be determined.
Seeing multiple moves ahead—that was what they called court vision.
"This..."
Araki Masako also realized it belatedly.
She whipped her head toward Seihō's bench, where Yamashita Shigeo sat playing his usual Zen master act, and couldn't help but curse: "Old fox!"
All that talk about changing tempo to counter Yōsen was a lie.
From the start, Seihō had been targeting Murasakibara alone!
But realizing it now was useless. Murasakibara's body had reached its limit; he couldn't continue.
Watching him stubbornly refuse his teammates' support, struggling to stay on his feet—she felt nothing but regret.
"Even if you'd figured it out from the start, the result would be the same, Araki." Yamashita Shigeo opened his eyes. "Without Murasakibara, who on Yōsen stops Yuuto?"
"At the end of the day, this is simply a gap in strength. Yuuto is stronger than Murasakibara, so we won. It's that simple."
Yes.
It really was that simple.
If Murasakibara's Zone could have forced Yuuto into Demon Mode or his own Zone, Yōsen wouldn't have been completely without hope.
They still had Himuro Tatsuya as their second ace.
Even trailing by more than ten points, as long as Yuuto and Murasakibara went down at the same time, Yōsen would have had a chance.
So.
This result came down to Murasakibara not being strong enough—or rather, Yuuto being too strong.
On the court, Murasakibara had forced himself upright, preparing to rejoin the offense.
But Araki Masako had already walked to the scorer's table with a substitute beside her.
Her expression was grim.
Murasakibara knew his coach wasn't blaming him, but herself.
Realizing this only made him feel worse.
For the first time in his life, he so desperately wanted to win. He wanted to try, to give everything for a game. And this was the result.
No—precisely because he wanted to win, losing hurt this much...
"I really do hate losing!"
TWEET!
Taking advantage of a dead ball, Yōsen made their substitution.
Murasakibara pulled out his hair tie. His long purple hair, soaked with sweat, tumbled down.
Head lowered, he staggered off the court. Sweat dripped continuously onto the floor.
But no one could see his face. They couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.
"Don't cry. You did great, Murasakibara." Araki Masako carefully placed her hand on his back, guiding him to the bench. "It's my fault as a coach for not doing my job."
...
Murasakibara was out, but the game continued.
Yuuto glanced one last time at Murasakibara, then threw himself back into the game, never looking his way again.
Without the Generation of Miracles' genius center, Seihō's offense became unstoppable.
WHOOSH!
A pass came without any warning, threading through Yōsen's defense.
The ball reached Iwamura. Neither Okamura Kenichi nor Liu Wei reacted in time.
They didn't possess Murasakibara's monster-like athleticism.
But Yōsen hadn't given up. Their tactical focus immediately shifted to Himuro Tatsuya.
"Murasakibara worked that hard. We have no reason to back down!"
"Keep pushing! Don't let them look down on us—we're Yōsen!"
Okamura Kenichi roared.
This captain who'd originally started playing basketball because he heard it would make him popular with girls—he tried to replace Murasakibara as Yōsen's anchor in the paint.
But when he received Himuro's pass and turned to dunk, Yuuto's hand shot out from the shadows and viciously swatted the ball away.
How is he this strong! Okamura's heart lurched.
The force behind that block was absurd. No wonder Murasakibara could barely overpower Yuuto in strength.
But immediately he spun around and bellowed: "Get back! Watch their fast break!"
Yōsen's spirit never wavered, earning the crowd's respect.
Unfortunately, the scoreboard recorded just how futile their resistance was.
By the end of the third quarter, Yōsen trailed by 29 points.
At this margin, it was essentially a foregone conclusion—Seihō would advance.
Yet Okamura and the others still refused to come off. This was their final game of high school.
This was the Winter Cup, not the Inter-High.
Their high school careers didn't have another summer.
Thinking of this, Murasakibara couldn't help but sniffle. He was supposed to have fought alongside them until the end, but instead he'd become a miserable liar!
...
On the other side.
Yamashita Shigeo had Yuuto sit out the fourth quarter.
No objections.
The 29-point lead was more than enough. Seihō's advancement was set in stone.
This game, Yuuto played all three quarters—30 minutes total—dropping a game-high 48 points, 7 rebounds, 10 assists, 6 blocks, and 7 steals.
His stat line was as gaudy as ever.
But what left the deepest impression was his third-quarter battle against Murasakibara's Zone without falling behind.
That scene was simply too shocking.
"Now it's our turn."
"Yeah!"
Seirin's mood hadn't lightened despite the game being decided. If anything, they'd grown more serious.
Because Seihō was even stronger than they'd imagined.
Over the summer, they had all improved to varying degrees.
Kagami Taiga had overcome his dominant-hand issues—both hands now equally skilled.
Izuki Shun had used his eagle eyes to learn Yuuto's Eagle Claw.
Hyūga Junpei had learned the Barrier Jumper from Aida Kagetora.
Kiyoshi Teppei had returned, and this was Seirin at their peak.
Yet even so, they lacked confidence.
Because their opponent was Seihō—with a monster in their lineup who could stand alone against the Generation of Miracles!
But they wouldn't back down.
"This time, we're definitely settling our Inter-High grudge."
"YEAH!"
...
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