Tōō Academy quickly fell back on defense. Their formation looked loose, but that was the nature of man-to-man defense—if the offense wasn't strong enough, breaking through would only become harder.
With no other choice, Yukio Kasamatsu passed the ball to Kise Ryouta.
The moment Kise received it, his gaze sharpened—yet deep inside, he was filled with anxiety.
I'm reaching my limit…
His stamina had already been pushed to the brink.
Sensing something off about Kise, Aomine Daiki narrowed his eyes slightly—like a beast lurking in the shadows, baring its gleaming fangs.
Kasamatsu, who had just passed the ball, also noticed something wrong. His pupils shrank as he feinted left and right before suddenly sprinting forward, stepping directly in front of Aomine.
That brief opening—
Kise seized it instantly.
Driving into the paint, he leapt, preparing to slam the ball into the hoop.
But the black figure twisted past Kasamatsu's screen in a flash—
Aomine followed Kise into the air.
Both gripped the ball with one hand.
Feeling the overwhelming force coming from Aomine, Kise clenched his teeth and roared—
"Ahhh!!"
BOOM!
The ball was forcefully dunked into the hoop.
The score jumped to 74–58.
The gap had narrowed to just 16 points.
After landing, Aomine glanced at Kise again, a faint smile curling on his lips—part delight, part realization.
Kise said nothing. He simply turned and walked away.
I really wanted to say…
"How were those plays, Aomine?"
But he had no strength left—not even to speak.
Even breathing had become difficult.
This was the result of extreme overexertion—muscles pushed too far, oxygen depleted throughout his body.
Tōō took possession.
As soon as they crossed half-court, Imayoshi Shoichi passed the ball to Aomine.
The message was clear—
As the ace… go score.
Aomine dribbled forward, shaking off Kise, breaking past Mitsuhiro Hayakawa, and leaping into the air for another dunk.
Kise raised his hand to contest—
But Aomine's eyes were filled with excitement.
The thrill of the hunt.
At the moment both hands met the ball—
Aomine went all out.
His expression twisted, his brows standing on end as he poured every ounce of strength into the play.
Kise roared in response, muscles bulging, veins protruding—his arm almost resembling a mythical beast's limb.
Everyone thought Aomine would be blocked again—
But the result… was completely unexpected.
"BOOM!"
A violent dunk.
The ball slammed through the net.
Aomine landed steadily—
But Kise, after landing, lost all strength in his legs.
He fell backward onto the court—
Unable to get up.
The referee immediately called a timeout.
A stretcher was rushed onto the court by medical staff in white coats.
Lying on the ground, Kise slowly closed his eyes and whispered softly—
"I… did my best…"
His head tilted to the side.
And he lost consciousness.
In an instant, chaos erupted in Kaijo's bench and on the court.
All the players rushed toward the fallen Kise.
Soon, the team received the doctor's diagnosis—
"Severe muscle overuse. Skeletal muscle damage. Muscle strain. Possible joint wear. Muscle breakdown is uncertain—we'll need further examination."
Kise was taken to the hospital.
Unable to continue, Kaijo was forced to substitute him out.
But with seven minutes left in the fourth quarter—
The moment Kise fell, Kaijo's hope had already vanished.
Without him, the game lost its meaning.
Still, no one left. The audience remained, discussing what had just happened.
"Shogo-kun… Kise Ryouta… he'll be okay, right?"
"I don't know," Haizaki replied calmly. "But it shouldn't be too serious. It's likely muscle and skeletal strain from overusing [Immovable King Form]."
"With his current physical condition, one quarter is probably the ideal limit for that ability. Using it beyond that in the fourth quarter is what caused the collapse."
Haizaki's explanation was clear and precise.
After countless simulations and analyses in his mind, he was confident—
He could steal that ability.
Though he wouldn't be able to use it for long.
As for the impact on Kise?
Minimal.
Because this was Kise's awakened skill—
Something rooted in his muscle memory, much like Aomine's [Formless Shot].
You could imitate it—
But you couldn't change the ingrained habits within someone's muscles.
Just like Aomine couldn't replicate Haizaki's [Pillage].
For ordinary techniques, Perfect Copy or stealing was easy.
But for the Generation of Miracles' unique abilities—
It was extremely difficult.
Those weren't just skills.
They were talent.
Not something you could simply copy or take at will.
And some abilities—
Whether copied or stolen—
Came with a price.
That was precisely why Haizaki had developed [Pillage] in the first place.
Some techniques, once copied, couldn't be used repeatedly. Overuse would strain—or even damage—the body.
Because of that, he had to alter their rhythm, making them his own.
At first, it was simply adaptation—
But later, he realized it could disrupt others as well.
And thus, [Pillage] was born.
The reason why Aomine and Kise's future [Perfect Copy] could only be used briefly—
It was the same.
The burden on the body.
After hearing Haizaki's explanation, everyone finally understood—
The Generation of Miracles possessed overwhelming talent…
But the conditions to use it were just as harsh.
The most basic requirement—
A body strong enough to handle it.
That was why Haizaki trained relentlessly every day—
Fencing, kickboxing, swimming, running…
All to steadily improve his physical condition.
So he could freely use his abilities.
Beside him, Shimizu Rena seemed to have discovered something incredible, scribbling rapidly in her notebook.
On the other side, Midorima Shintaro suddenly stood up.
"The rest of the game won't change. It won't be interesting anymore. I'm going to the hospital to check on Kise. You all head back."
"Shin-chan, want me to come with you?"
"No need."
At those words, the Shutoku players fell silent.
Haizaki also said nothing.
His relationship with Kise had never been good.
Though he respected Kise's determination and spirit in this match…
He wasn't about to play the saint.
So he chose silence.
And naturally, Shimizu and the Fukuda Sogo players followed suit.
As the discussions continued—
The remaining seven minutes slipped by unnoticed.
The winner, of course—
Tōō Academy.
As for the final score…
It was too one-sided to even mention.