"A monster!"
Aida Riko bit her fingernail again out of habit.
Teikō Middle School. Homi Academy.
Every player from this generation of those two schools was an incomprehensible freak of nature.
No one felt this more keenly than Seirin. After all, one of the legendary Phantom Sixth Man—Kuroko Tetsuya—was right there on their roster.
Seen in this light, Homi Academy's victory over the super-powered Teikō back in the day made perfect sense.
Setting aside Yuuto, the monster hailed as the strongest, even his teammates were monsters in their own right.
"Guess the teammates of monsters can only be monsters themselves?"
"I can't even imagine how terrifying those two teams would be if they reunited!"
They sighed collectively.
Thank god these players had scattered to different schools. Otherwise, no one else would stand a chance at the Inter-High or the Winter Cup.
While they were talking, Fukuda Sogo scored on a fast break.
On the next possession, seeing Haizaki making his move, Kise stopped holding back. He copied the skill set of a Fukuda Sogo player and nailed his own shot.
But immediately after—
Haizaki answered with a bizarrely-formed three-pointer.
"That's my shooting form!" Moriyama Yoshitaka's body jerked violently.
So this is what it feels like to face someone like Kise as an opponent?
It was absolutely miserable.
No matter what technique you had, all it took was one glance for him to copy it perfectly. That kind of talent was practically mocking everyone else's audacity to even dream of reaching the top.
"No, this isn't simple imitation." Kasamatsu Yukio's expression turned grave. "At this rate, everyone except Kise is going to forget how to play basketball."
His fears proved justified almost immediately.
After just one quarter, Kaijō—the regional powerhouse of Kanagawa—found themselves being dominated by the previously unknown Fukuda Sogo.
"What happened? We were winning in the first quarter!"
The Seirin players were baffled.
But Kise, the Generation of Miracles, and Yuuto all understood exactly what was happening.
They were individually strong, sure. But Haizaki wasn't just strong himself—he could make his opponents weaker.
Every player whose skills he plundered would suddenly become incompetent.
Take Kasamatsu Yukio's signature double crossover. After Haizaki stripped it from him, he either bounced the ball off his own foot or dribbled too high, getting picked clean by defenders.
Even Moriyama Yoshitaka's shooting touch had completely abandoned him. Aside from that opening three-pointer, he hadn't hit anything since.
By the end of the second quarter, Kaijō found themselves trailing Fukuda Sogo by double digits.
"So this is your old teammate, huh, Yuuto?"
The Seihō players felt chills running down their spines.
Homi Academy was truly something else. Their ace, Yuuto, was a freak who grew stronger the stronger his opponents became.
Their second-in-command, Haizaki Shōgo, could literally steal his opponents' skill sets.
Birds of a feather really do flock together!
Every single player those two teams produced was an absolute monster.
"He's still got a long way to go," Yuuto said simply.
A year had passed.
Haizaki's physical stats had improved across the board.
Proof that his talent was genuinely exceptional—even without training, his body hadn't regressed at all.
But still.
"Plunder has its limits."
"Limits?"
"Yeah. Just like Kise back in the day, Haizaki's Plunder can't affect us."
Akashi's calm voice cut through.
The "us" he referred to meant Yuuto and the Generation of Miracles.
This was Plunder's ceiling—it couldn't interfere with the distinctive personal styles of the Miracles or Yuuto.
Or to put it more bluntly: Plunder simply couldn't replicate the movements of someone at that level.
Take Midorima, for instance.
His shooting touch had already reached the absolute pinnacle.
Even Kise would need to expend massive amounts of time and stamina to copy it.
Plunder? Using your own rhythm to disrupt an opponent? Against Midorima, that was pure fantasy.
That was precisely why Akashi had concluded back then that Haizaki would eventually be surpassed by Kise.
Given Haizaki's personality, he definitely couldn't accept being Kise's backup. So Akashi had simply pushed him off the team.
However—
After Haizaki ended up with Yuuto, he'd shown a future Akashi had never foreseen.
Perhaps the current Haizaki had changed in ways Akashi couldn't predict.
The current Haizaki?
He had indeed changed, but he still couldn't break through the limits of his talent.
Of all the professional players in the world, those who truly broke past their own talent ceiling could be counted on one hand.
Durant, James, Curry—future superstars, none of them could achieve this. Even the Black and White legends of the '80s hadn't managed it.
The only player who truly shattered the limits of his talent was probably Jordan.
Probably?
Because throughout basketball's long history, no one had ever reached the level Jordan occupied.
In the post-Jordan era, the league had promoted countless "Next Jordans."
Among these prodigies were players who seemed to match or even exceed Jordan's raw talent.
And yet—
Not a single one of them reached Jordan's level.
Ironically, it was the "merely" talented Kobe who came closest to being like Jordan.
Yuuto believed that Jordan and Kobe might be among the very few who broke through their own ceiling.
Within basketball, those were the only two who came to mind.
In football, there was one universally acknowledged player who shattered his talent limits: Cristiano Ronaldo.
All told, Yuuto could count across all sports and come up with only three such players.
That alone showed just how impossibly heaven-defying it was to break one's talent ceiling.
And Haizaki—
He couldn't do it. Not yet.
Plunder was like a cage, trapping him right where he stood.
This isn't looking good. Haizaki glanced at the scoreboard, sensing crisis.
He already knew about Kise's Perfect Copy.
A mere 12-point lead wasn't nearly enough to secure victory. He needed either a bigger cushion or to force out Kise's Perfect Copy as early as possible.
Then—
Smack! He slapped his own head hard.
"Dammit, when did I start thinking about this tactical crap like that guy Yuuto?"
He hated to admit it, but his year at Okukozome had genuinely changed him.
That's exactly why, after getting his revenge, Haizaki had decided to leave—terrified of turning into a "basketball person" like Yuuto.
But a year later, stepping back onto the court, those damn memories came flooding back like a tidal wave.
Well...
"Whatever, I'll think like him if I have to. Let me crush Kise first."
...
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