Yuuto felt he'd been pretty lucky. Neither of the coaches he'd encountered was a famous strategist on par with Shirogane Kozo.
But they genuinely cared about him and wanted the best for him.
Still, for Yuuto—a backup plan?
Once he left, he had no intention of coming back.
He'd already completed simulations of the first three Winter Cup victories.
He'd acquired a vision talent, a blue-tier Iron Constitution talent, and a ball-handling enhancement talent.
The vision and ball-handling talents were fusion materials he planned to feed into his Demon Eyes and Tezuka Zone to upgrade them.
But they weren't high-level enough yet to cause a qualitative breakthrough.
The Iron Constitution, though blue-tier, reduced injury risk and improved stamina.
If he obtained a green-tier Iron Constitution later, he could fuse them.
Then—
The quarterfinals arrived.
That day—
Every one of the arena's 25,000 seats was occupied. Fans who couldn't grab seats were forced to stand.
So the actual attendance exceeded 25,000—probably closer to 30,000.
Amid thunderous cheers, Yōsen made their entrance.
"Here comes Yōsen!"
"First round, second round, third round—all unprecedented shutout victories!"
"The legendary ultimate shield, Akita Prefecture's Absolute Defense!"
Yōsen's presence was overwhelming.
Three players standing over two meters tall loomed like mountains, radiating crushing pressure.
From the opposite tunnel—
Yuuto led his team onto the court.
The reception was a tidal wave of cheers.
Their average height didn't match Yōsen's, but they commanded even more attention—three pillars of darkness among the chaos.
Himuro Tatsuya's gaze found Yuuto first, then drifted to the stands, locating his brother and his teacher.
Finally—
He removed the ring from around his neck and carefully put it away.
"Seeing them in person... the feeling is even more intense."
"Completely different from Tōō's aggressive pressure. It's more like..."
"The crushing weight of a deep-rooted ancient tree."
Hyūga Junpei finished Izuki Shun's thought. Yōsen's height advantage was simply too stark.
Just watching from the stands, the pressure was immense. Facing them head-on, Seihō must be experiencing something else entirely.
"But look—their expressions are calm. Completely unaffected."
"That's the national championship team for you."
Aida Riko and the others tensed at Yōsen's intimidating interior height.
But Seihō didn't.
The referee carried the ball to center court.
The game was about to begin.
Tweet!
Setting aside the monster that was Yuuto, every player on that team was remarkably composed. Their confidence was extraordinary—this was what a championship squad looked like.
After the opening whistle, Murasakibara won the tip-off for Yōsen.
But—
Tweet!
The referee blew his whistle again. Murasakibara had been called for a tip-off violation.
"Huh? That's not allowed?"
Murasakibara scratched his head, certain he hadn't committed a foul.
His Yōsen teammates reacted in various ways.
Some instructed him: "You went too early. Touch it a beat later next time."
Some consoled him: "No big deal. Just be more careful."
Some were stricter: "You've done this before. Stop coddling him."
They chatted among themselves "harmoniously," treating him like a child who needed patient guidance.
They showed zero frustration over losing the first possession.
The spectators, on the other hand, were fascinated.
"Just looking at his reach, he's already taller than Taiga." Alexandra had come to watch in person today.
She wanted to witness firsthand whether the clash between Generation of Miracles members was truly as earth-shattering as people claimed.
Kagami was her proudest student, possessing heaven-defying talent when it came to leaping ability.
But—
"That height, that wingspan, those reflexes—he's an absolute interior monster." Alexandra took a deep breath.
Setting aside athletic ability, which she hadn't seen yet, Murasakibara's static measurements were already off the charts.
"How many times are you going to pull this stunt?"
Amid the astonished murmurs, Yuuto's voice cut through.
He stared at Murasakibara, utterly unfazed by the height difference, his expression pure mockery.
"If you're trying to intimidate us with this little trick, it's pathetic."
"Who do you think dominated this country?"
The moment his words landed, Yōsen's "harmonious" chatter died instantly.
They'd had similar thoughts, admittedly.
Losing or keeping the opening tip didn't really matter.
Jump ball rights alternated fairly. Getting called for a violation just meant losing one scoring opportunity.
So using Murasakibara's foul to shock opponents was actually a decent trade-off.
But this Seihō king in front of them...
"Let me show you what a real intimidation looks like."
Yuuto spread one hand. Kasuga Ryuhei, reading his captain perfectly through years of partnership, immediately tossed him the ball.
Smack! Yuuto caught it one-handed.
"Get ready, Yōsen."
The instant the words left his lips, he exploded forward, accelerating into a streak of light hurtling toward their basket.
"So fast!"
Fukui Kensuke's expression warped.
People were amazed by Yōsen's interior height? Well, so was he!
Actually facing this Seihō king, the pressure was absolutely absurd.
His body scrambled to shift laterally, cutting off Yuuto's driving lane.
But—
Almost simultaneously, Yuuto's figure separated from his, moving in the opposite direction.
One step, blown by!
Completely unstoppable. Haizaki wasn't even in the same league.
"I'm not done." Himuro Tatsuya's demeanor turned frigid—no trace of his usual warmth toward opponents. Like a shard of ice, he closed in.
He'd anticipated Fukui's failure and positioned himself immediately, forming a pincer with his teammate.
But—
Yuuto's pupils contracted sharply. Two deep crimson rings exploded outward from his irises, engulfing the entire court.
What is this...? Himuro's aura grew even colder, chills running down his spine.
Unlike their streetball encounter, when Yuuto hadn't used his "eyes."
Today was different. He was finally experiencing the Demon Eyes' power firsthand. Just that one look, and it felt like he'd been completely seen through.
The sensation was indescribable.
Tap, tap, tap...
In a daze, he watched Yuuto's body weave rapidly, the ball flickering between his hands.
And me?
His body was moving involuntarily, following his opponent's rhythm.
The terrifying part? Fukui was doing the exact same thing.
They were so focused on what was directly in front of them that they hadn't noticed—but from the sideline, Araki Masako had already risen to her feet.
What am I seeing?
Yuuto split into three, generating two afterimages that shot out to his left and right simultaneously.
But both were decoys.
From the spectators' perspective, Himuro and Fukui looked like headless chickens, lunging left and right, opening a clear path down the middle.
"Tatsuya! Fukui!"
Yōsen's bench shouted warnings. The two snapped back to reality.
As they turned—Yuuto was already blowing past them like a hurricane through the gap they'd created.
"How is this possible?!" Himuro's jaw dropped. "He's gotten even stronger!"
...
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