With that, Daiki Aomine began dribbling nonstop, his movements turning increasingly chaotic and unpredictable.
Dicky Anthony's eyes sharpened as he locked his focus entirely on Aomine.
The next second—
Bang!
Swish!
A gust of wind seemed to brush past Dicky Anthony. By the time he snapped back to himself, Daiki Aomine had already vanished from in front of him.
Dicky Anthony's heart jolted.
'Oh my God, how is he that fast?!'
Aomine exploded forward at full speed, blowing past Dicky Anthony's defense in an instant.
After breaking through, Aomine didn't charge straight into the paint. Instead, he pulled up sharply near the free-throw line for a sudden jump shot.
Dicky Anthony reacted quickly, adjusting his footing and rushing over to contest.
He leapt high, using his height and wingspan to completely seal off Daiki Aomine's shooting lane!
Aomine couldn't help but sigh in admiration.
"Terrifying talent."
He let out a soft chuckle—and his shooting form changed midair.
Both hands released the ball at once, shifting into a one-handed grip with his right hand.
Aomine stretched his right arm out fully in midair, then flicked it.
The ball slipped past Dicky Anthony's side.
[Formless Shot]!
Seeing the ball fly off at that angle, Dicky Anthony relaxed.
In his mind, Aomine had been forced into that awkward release because his defense had shut him down.
What he didn't realize was that this wasn't a desperate adjustment.
It was Aomine's standard move.
His most comfortable move.
The basketball arced strangely through the air, traced an almost unnatural curve, kissed the backboard—
Swish!
In the stands, some spectators who had only come along for fun looked puzzled.
"That was pure luck, right? How does something like that even go in?"
Those who had seen Daiki Aomine play before merely smiled knowingly.
"You've got it wrong. Aomine isn't lucky."
On the court, Dicky Anthony froze for a moment.
'A lucky shot?'
It wasn't strange for him to think that. He had never faced anyone who shot like that before.
Normally, that kind of release only happened when a player was forced into a bad position.
Dicky Anthony shot Aomine a strange look and said in clumsy Japanese,
"Your luck… very good."
Aomine understood him. He didn't argue—just smiled faintly.
"Then I hope my luck stays this good."
With that, he turned and jogged back on defense.
Possession switched.
Atsushi Murasakibara passed the ball to Miyamoto Tokima, who brought it slowly across half court.
Once over the line, Miyamoto Tokima handed it off to Dicky Anthony.
After all, the first quarter belonged to Dicky Anthony. The second quarter would belong to Miyamoto Tokima.
The moment he caught the pass, Dicky Anthony felt how perfect it was—it landed exactly in his most comfortable shooting position.
Without the slightest hesitation, he rose up for the shot.
Aomine had already been on guard. The instant Dicky Anthony jumped, he jumped as well.
But from a stationary takeoff, Aomine still couldn't reach that release point.
So he went back to his old method—
Blindfold defense.
If he couldn't block it, he wouldn't let Dicky Anthony shoot comfortably.
Aomine's right hand shot forward, covering Dicky Anthony's line of sight.
Miyamoto Tokima twitched at the sight.
Damn it. Aomine had truly mastered the essence of that blindfold defense.
And it was obvious he'd trained it extensively.
Blindfold defense was extremely difficult. If an ordinary player tried it, they could easily smack the opponent in the face and draw a foul.
Only someone who had drilled it repeatedly could execute it so precisely.
Clearly, Aomine had reached that level.
Dicky Anthony's vision went dark. Beyond that outstretched palm, the rim disappeared.
With no other option, he shot by feel.
Thanks to Miyamoto Tokima's perfectly placed pass—and the fact that Dicky Anthony had already locked onto the rim's position beforehand—
The shot was steady.
Precise.
Swish!
Aomine could only laugh helplessly.
"You're the lucky one."
He had executed blindfold defense perfectly. He was certain Dicky Anthony couldn't see the rim.
And yet—it still went in.
Possession switched again.
Aomine dribbled slowly into the frontcourt.
Facing Dicky Anthony, he once again relied on streetball techniques to attack one-on-one.
Dicky Anthony might have been familiar with streetball, but he couldn't keep up with Aomine's speed.
Aomine's intensified training had pushed his quickness to another level—
Far beyond what it had been in the original story.
With his towering frame, Dicky Anthony simply couldn't match Aomine's acceleration.
And so the game settled into a deadlock.
Dicky Anthony couldn't stop Aomine's drives.
Aomine couldn't stop Dicky Anthony's shots.
They were completely locked against each other.
Watching this, Miyamoto Tokima felt genuinely pleased.
It proved Aomine hadn't wasted his talent.
He was working. Improving.
If one had to compare—
The current Daiki Aomine could easily crush the lazy version from the original story.
After all, Dicky Anthony was the captain of The Venomous Snakes.
If Aomine could contend with him, it meant his strength had already surpassed many American streetball players.
With three minutes left in the first quarter—
Dicky Anthony decided to turn it up.
On one offensive possession, his gaze shifted.
A cold, razor-sharp aura burst from his body.
In the stands, Taiga Kagami's expression changed drastically.
"Animal Instinct again?!"
Junpei Hyuga cursed under his breath.
"What the hell—how is this happening? That makes two! Kirisaki Daiichi actually has two players with Animal Instinct?!"
Over on Shutoku's side, the mood turned heavy.
Kazunari Takao broke into a light cold sweat.
"Hey, hey, hey… one wolf wasn't enough, and now there's another? Who's supposed to beat that?!"
Shintaro Midorima clenched his fist tightly—then slowly released it, his thoughts unreadable.
On the court—
"Hiss… hiss…"
A vivid green serpent slowly materialized behind Dicky Anthony.
It flicked its tongue, its eyes locked firmly onto Daiki Aomine.
Dicky Anthony himself seemed to change.
His eyes grew unfocused, and he muttered under his breath—
"Hunt…"
...