On the court.
Miyamoto didn't push the pace. Instead, he dribbled the ball slowly across half court.
Daiki Aomine immediately stepped up to defend.
"Miyamoto, bring it!"
Miyamoto smiled faintly.
"No rush."
With that, he pushed the ball forward with both hands, sending it to Dicky Anthony, who was waiting beyond the three-point line.
Kosuke Wakamatsu was completely thrown off.
Isn't that foreigner a center? Why is he attacking from outside the arc?
After catching the ball, Dicky Anthony slowly dribbled toward Miyamoto. Miyamoto moved in sync, quickly setting a screen that sealed Wakamatsu off.
Wakamatsu grew even more confused.
What the hell? That foreigner is going at Aomine?
Aomine also sensed what Miyamoto was planning and frowned.
"Miyamoto, what's this supposed to mean?"
Miyamoto gave him a calm smile.
"Daiki, this is the first gift I prepared for you. Enjoy it."
Aomine blinked, still not following.
"What are you talking about? Say it clearly. Don't play riddles with me!"
Miyamoto shrugged with a grin.
"I'm not telling. Figure it out yourself."
With that, he ignored Aomine completely.
Left with no choice, Aomine turned his attention to Dicky Anthony, who was preparing to attack.
Damn it. Miyamoto's acting mysterious again. Guess I'll just take it head-on.
Even though he didn't understand, since it was something Miyamoto had prepared for him, he was determined to experience it properly.
After all… he was the one who brought him Maki photos every single day…
Dicky Anthony's expression looked strange—like he was furious but holding it in.
"Ready?" (English)
Aomine paused for a second, then nodded. He understood.
He lowered his center of gravity, bracing himself for a sudden drive. Dicky Anthony might be tall, but Aomine knew his speed wasn't slow at all.
When Aomine had tried to shake him off earlier, Dicky Anthony had kept up without any trouble.
Just as Aomine prepared for the drive, Dicky Anthony moved.
He gathered the ball with both hands and sprang straight up.
Aomine froze.
What the hell? A two-meter guy pulling up for a jumper? Aren't you supposed to be a center?
He knew it was too late to contest, so he didn't even bother jumping.
Dicky Anthony released the shot effortlessly.
Aomine turned his head to track the ball.
In the stands.
On Shutoku's side.
As soon as Dicky Anthony let it fly, Shintaro Midorima spoke without hesitation.
"Perfect trajectory. It's in."
Right after he said it, the ball dropped cleanly through the net.
The entire gym was stunned.
In the stands.
Taiga Kagami looked utterly confused.
"Isn't he a center? Why's he shooting like that?!"
Junpei Hyuga's expression turned serious.
"As a shooter, I can say this for sure—that foreigner is absolutely not a center."
"And his biggest weapon is definitely his shooting."
On Shutoku's side, Kazunari Takao asked in disbelief:
"Seriously? Midorima, with that height, he's really a shooter and not a center?"
Midorima nodded firmly.
"Yes. I'm certain. His form is smooth, natural, and confident."
"No one who hasn't trained their shot for years can shoot like that."
"So I can guarantee it—he's a shooter."
On Kaijō's side.
"You've got to be kidding. That height and he's not a center?"
Yukio Kasamatsu found it hard to accept. A two-meter-tall shooter—how do you even defend that?
Ryota Kise's expression grew serious. He pointed toward Atsushi Murasakibara on the court.
"You might not believe it, Senpai, but look—we already have a center out there. Murasakibara."
Everyone froze.
They had instinctively labeled Dicky Anthony as a center the moment they saw his height.
On the court.
Aomine had realized it too. This foreigner wasn't a center at all—he was a shooter.
Shoichi Imayoshi stared at Dicky Anthony and muttered,
"This is troublesome. With that kind of height, how are we supposed to deal with him?"
Possession changed.
Imayoshi didn't hesitate and immediately passed the ball to Aomine.
What else could he do? Miyamoto was guarding him. Trying to attack himself would just be asking for trouble.
Better leave it to the ace.
The moment Aomine caught the ball, Dicky Anthony closed in.
They squared off at the arc, the air between them thick with tension.
Aomine's face turned serious as he gave a slight shoulder feint.
Dicky Anthony didn't react at all, as if he hadn't even seen it.
Aomine narrowed his eyes, then suddenly drove hard.
His first step was explosive, and he blew past Dicky Anthony almost instantly.
But Dicky Anthony reacted quickly, recovering to cut off the lane and prevent him from getting deep inside.
Even so, Aomine's speed was overwhelming. Dicky Anthony remained half a step behind.
As Aomine entered the paint, Murasakibara rotated over to help.
Aomine clenched his teeth, thoughts racing.
He was trapped—no way back.
It came down to two options: force the shot or pass.
But would Aomine pass?
Obviously not.
He chose to attack.
But even forcing it had variations. This time, he decided on something unexpected.
Without slowing down in the slightest, Aomine leaped.
Murasakibara and Dicky Anthony jumped at the same time, both aiming to block him.
In the stands, Kagami's eyes widened.
"No way! He's still forcing it in this situation? There's no way that's going in!"
On the court.
After taking off, Aomine didn't shoot.
Instead, he kept drifting—flying behind the backboard, heading out of bounds.
Murasakibara had no choice. From behind the backboard, there was no angle to block, so he withdrew his hand.
The Seirin players were completely dumbfounded.
Was Aomine… giving up?
Just when everyone thought he had abandoned the play—
Something unbelievable happened.
From behind the backboard, Aomine flicked the ball upward with his right hand.
The basketball rose straight up from behind the board—
Then arced over it—
And dropped cleanly through the hoop.
In the stands, Kagami's mouth fell open.
"H-How… is that even possible?"
...
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