Ryonan's possession.
Thump… thump… thump… The basketball hit the court under Akashi's palm, each strike echoing like a drumbeat in the arena, sending invisible tremors into the hearts of the Shohoku players.
Their eyes followed him as he advanced steadily toward their half. The pressure emanating from him was heavier now, more suffocating than before.
He actually changed the entire team with just a few words.
Takenori Akagi clenched his fists, feeling a nervous energy he hadn't even realized before.
Miyagi Ryota squared off against him first, attempting to block his path. Even standing there, he felt the weight of Akashi's presence, an aura that radiated authority and danger.
What a terrifying guy… he thought inwardly.
Akashi moved forward calmly.
As Miyagi raised his hand to steal the ball, Akashi subtly flicked his wrist, passing the basketball through a narrow gap to Koshino Hiroaki, who was sprinting to the outside.
Koshino received the ball, prepared to shoot—but Mitsui Hisashi, anticipating the move, leapt toward him, blocking the shot.
Koshino didn't falter. Pressing the ball low, he passed accurately to Fukuda Kiccho, who had cut behind Mitsui. Two strides later, Fukuda soared into the restricted area, flicking the ball into the hoop.
Damn it. Mitsui wiped sweat from his cheek, frowning. Their movements… are coherent now. No more awkwardness.
Shohoku regained possession.
Miyagi dribbled slowly, controlling the rhythm. "Don't rush. Let's score first," he instructed.
The words had a calming effect; Shohoku players relaxed, but Miyagi's gaze never left Akashi, who remained still near his three-point line, hands hanging loosely, eyes calm.
The stillness unnerved him.
He charged. Rapid dribbles, lowered stance, approaching Akashi's left side—just as planned. Akashi shifted subtly, arm raised, blocking the breakthrough route.
Exactly what I wanted, Miyagi thought.
The moment was set. Miyagi flicked the ball diagonally backward toward Mitsui, whose path was open. The pass was clever, concealed, and fast.
But Akashi's heterochromatic eyes narrowed. A faint light flickered.
Two golden halos emerged. Emperor Eye.
Time seemed to slow. Every subtle motion, every trajectory was instantly analyzed.
Akashi's hand shot out, fingertips grazing the basketball mid-pass. Snap. The ball was under his control before anyone could react.
He pivoted, circumventing Miyagi effortlessly, dribbling toward Shohoku's paint.
Miyagi stood frozen. How could he… see everything?
Akashi approached an empty basket and executed a flawless three-step layup. Swish. The ball passed through the net.
He landed and calmly surveyed the Shohoku players. "Your game ends here," he said.
Shock froze their expressions.
Akashi's voice remained flat, but heavy with certainty. "Your current strength is only this much. There will be no more progress in this game."
He paused, focusing on Miyagi. "Your pass just now… seemed accidental, but it was inevitable. Sakuragi Hanamichi isn't good at shooting, and passing into the paint was risky. You had only two options: Rukawa Kaede, tightly guarded by Sendoh, or Mitsui Hisashi. I simply coordinated with your movement. The moment you prepared to pass, I would intercept. The ball was mine."
Miyagi's fists clenched. His body trembled. "Impossible… His center of gravity was thrown off… Even then, he… stopped the pass?!"
In the stands, Shinichi Maki's eyes widened. "Could it be…?"
Kiyota Nobunaga leaned over, bewildered. "What happened, Captain?"
Maki's gaze was sharp, analyzing. He… deliberately suppressed his rhythm before? All for this moment?
The thought sent a chill down his spine. Akashi had controlled the flow of the game, predicted every action, and waited for the perfect moment to strike.
Mitsui Hisashi's eyes reflected disbelief. "From the very start… this was his goal?"
Takenori Akagi finally understood. "So… Sakuragi Hanamichi was a decoy. Everything else was calculated."
Akashi continued walking back to his half. "I never expected Sakuragi to be fouled out. Victory cannot rely on uncertain probability. My plan was simple: keep him from assisting, neutralize threats under the basket, and control the outside. Rukawa Kaede is talented, but not Sendoh's equal. Your hope for points relied on outside shots."
He glanced at Mitsui. "And your outside was already running on fumes."
Mitsui braced himself on his knees, chest heaving, jersey soaked with sweat. Even if he had received the pass successfully, fatigue might have prevented a shot.
Shohoku's bench watched, stunned.
Kogure whispered, "So… we've been trapped from the very start?"
Ayako's face showed disbelief and barely concealed despair. "How could this be…"
Anzai Mitsuyoshi quietly sighed, removing his glasses to wipe the lenses. "Calculated… so thoroughly… without even a chance to counterattack."
All eyes turned to the red figure controlling the court, and for the first time, everyone truly felt the depth of Akashi Seijuro's genius.