At that moment, Aomine Daiki was utterly shaken.
He finally realized—
Haizaki Shogo's speed, strength, and explosiveness… had all climbed to an even higher level.
He had surpassed him. Completely.
And that voice—
"Aomine… I think I've already become unbeatable."
—echoed in his mind again and again.
It sounded almost hypnotic… laced with faint disappointment… and a quiet, undeniable arrogance.
"Don't mess with me… I'm really being looked down on by a guy like you?"
Aomine sank deeper.
Deeper into the Zone.
So deep that even his awareness began to blur.
And then—
He got faster.
But Haizaki remained unmoved.
His defense was airtight—no openings, no hesitation.
He had already said what he needed to say.
He wasn't about to get slapped in the face and lose now.
SMACK!
In a flash, Haizaki stole the ball.
He exploded forward like lightning—
And behind him, Aomine chased, equally ferocious.
There was no surprise in Aomine's eyes.
Only one thought:
Get the ball back.
Haizaki leapt.
Aomine followed, arm stretched out to contest.
But—
BOOM!
Like a battle axe cleaving downward, Haizaki slammed the ball into the hoop.
The entire backboard trembled.
At that exact moment—
The buzzer for the third quarter sounded.
Score: 78–68. Fukuda Sogo leads by 10.
Haizaki returned to the bench with his teammates, taking the towel from Shimizu Rena and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Even for him, this level of intensity was draining.
But exhaustion?
Not yet.
Not even close.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Aomine.
You're reaching your limit… aren't you, Aomine?
Shimizu Rena watched him, puzzled.
This version of Haizaki…
It was her first time seeing it.
Cold. Focused.
And strangely captivating.
On the other side, Aomine grabbed a towel and water from Satsuki Momoi, wiping away the sweat pouring endlessly from his body.
No matter how much he wiped—
It didn't stop.
It felt like his body was losing control.
"Aomine…"
"Yeah. Don't worry… I'm enjoying this."
"Mm…!"
Momoi smiled—but beneath it, her eyes were filled with worry.
=======
Nearby, Coach Harasawa Katsunori's expression was the complete opposite.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
Hope.
A little more… just a little more…
Aomine was close.
So close to breaking through.
There was still one quarter left.
Enough time—if Haizaki kept pushing him.
And only now did Harasawa truly look at Haizaki.
What he saw shocked him.
Haizaki wasn't as exhausted as Aomine.
He looked… composed.
Steady.
Don't tell me…
This "guided match"… wasn't accidental?
He's doing it on purpose?
A chill ran down Harasawa's spine.
Then he shook his head.
Impossible… he's only a first-year.
The whistle blew.
Fourth quarter.
The crowd quieted.
Every eye was locked onto the court—
onto the two players whose eyes crackled with lightning.
For Midorima Shintaro, however, it wasn't just awe.
It was envy.
He had entered the Zone twice before…
But he couldn't control it.
He still didn't understand the trigger.
Meanwhile, Aomine and Haizaki could enter and exit at will.
That meant control over stamina.
Control over rhythm.
And rhythm—
Was the key to victory.
Midorima adjusted his glasses, the envy in his eyes fading into firm resolve.
If I can't be like them… then I'll perfect what I can control.
That was his way.
A man who did everything humanly possible—then left the rest to fate.
=======
On the court—
Aomine charged forward.
A blur of motion.
To everyone else, he was nothing more than a gust of wind.
Even Imayoshi Shoichi could only squint, his thoughts spiraling.
This… is the level of the Generation of Miracles…
Even with my instincts awakened… I can't keep up.
And Haizaki… he's even worse.
He's still faster than Aomine.
This entire situation… he forced it.
Just how deep does this monster go…?
Before Imayoshi could finish his thoughts—
Haizaki struck again.
SMACK!
Another steal.
Two streaks of lightning tore across the court.
The wind they created whipped past Imayoshi, snapping him back to reality—
Only to realize something terrifying.
He couldn't move.
None of them could.
Pressure.
Overwhelming pressure.
Their bodies instinctively froze—
a subconscious defense against danger.
They weren't completely immobile…
But they couldn't react.
Couldn't keep up.
Haizaki entered the paint.
Ignored everyone.
Leapt again.
Aomine arrived just in time, reaching up to block—
BOOM!!
A devastating dunk.
The ball slammed into the floor with lingering force.
Aomine landed.
His eyes… were unfocused.
That look—
Haizaki knew it well.
He's there.
At the second gate.
Facing the gatekeeper.
Haizaki stood still, expression cold—then slowly smiled.
And spoke the words he had been waiting to say.
"My gatekeeper… is myself."
He looked directly at Aomine.
"And you, Aomine… who is yours?"