The more she learned, the more terrifying it became.
On the court, nineteen seconds had already ticked off the shot clock.
Seeing that Himuro couldn't shake free from Tsugawa's coverage anytime soon, Fukui rushed over to provide an outlet. He received the pass and immediately pulled up for a shot.
Too rushed.
Nobody had high hopes for this attempt—there'd been virtually no time to set his feet.
But—
"Our rebounding ability at Yōsen is the best in the country!" Fukui wasn't counting on making the shot anyway.
His goal was simply to deliver the ball to the basket area.
Clang!
The shot predictably clanged off the rim.
Instantly, the paint became a war zone.
Yōsen's three towers in their purple-and-white jerseys moved in unison.
Thump!Thump!
Okamura and Liu Wei drove their backs hard into Iwamura and Ōmuro.
Iwamura could match his opponent in raw strength, but his frame was completely outclassed.
In a one-on-one battle for position, the odds would've been fifty-fifty—Seihō's former captain was more agile and had quicker reflexes.
The problem was—
Okamura had no intention of fighting Iwamura for the rebound. His job was to prevent Iwamura from getting it at all.
"Simple math, really. We have three guys, you only have two!" Okamura's rugged face split into a grin.
Then Murasakibara's towering frame launched skyward. The instant the ball bounced off the rim, his massive hand snatched it and hammered it through the hoop.
2-2!
Yuuto's opening attack had been spectacular, but Yōsen's advantages were equally obvious.
"Over the course of a game, a team's shooting percentage hovers around fifty percent. An exceptional performance might push that to sixty."
"In other words, about half of all shots—theirs and ours—will miss. That's precisely why basketball is a big man's sport."
Araki Masako stood on the sideline, wooden sword in hand, her expression calm yet confident.
Yōsen's greatest weapon was their interior height.
That height would give them far more rebounding opportunities, effectively limiting opponents' second-chance points while creating more of their own.
Through this attrition, Yōsen could simply outscore their opponents in possessions.
This was an enormous advantage.
"Control the paint, control the game. That truth never changes."
She cast a meaningful glance toward the opposing bench at Yamashita Shigeo.
This veteran coach had also built his reputation on defense, yet his Seihō pursued something called "mobility." Putting the cart before the horse, really.
Yamashita's expression remained neutral. This was exactly what he'd anticipated.
Murasakibara Atsushi. Okamura Kenichi. Liu Wei.
Yōsen's three-tower frontcourt all stood over two meters. Though the other two lacked Murasakibara's athleticism, their standing reach alone exceeded what most players could achieve even at their highest jump.
However—this was Yōsen's strength, but also their weakness.
"Nice one!"
Okamura walked over to slap Murasakibara's shoulder, praising his dunk.
And Iwamura?
He'd already sprinted to the baseline, signaling for an inbound pass to Kasuga.
Kasuga caught it and immediately heaved the ball upcourt.
Yuuto burst forward like a hurricane, smacking the ball into his hands.
Himuro and Fukui reacted quickly, racing back on defense.
But—
Yōsen now faced a 2-on-3 disadvantage in the frontcourt.
Bam!
Yuuto drew Himuro's attention, then fired a bounce pass.
Smack!
The ball ricocheted off the hardwood to Tsugawa. The buzz-cut defender caught it and finished with an easy layup for two more points.
By the time Seihō completed their fast break, Yōsen's three towers had barely crossed midcourt.
"A quick-release fast break—completely different from the old Seihō."
Seihō's transformation caught many by surprise.
What kind of team had Seihō been before?
A squad that employed the most reliable, orthodox approach—rarely taking risks because they were confident that playing their game would defeat anyone.
But today, their tempo was lightning-fast. At least their first two possessions had been blisteringly quick.
"So even Seihō doesn't feel confident beating Yōsen's three towers in a half-court game. They have to push the pace."
Fast breaks. Transition offense.
Against a team like Yōsen, most opponents would adopt a similar strategy.
"You think that's enough to break our Absolute Defense? How naive, Coach Yamashita." Araki remained unflustered.
Next possession.
Fukui pulled up from mid-range again.
With detailed scouting intel, Kasuga's defense was airtight, applying maximum pressure.
Unfortunately, Fukui wasn't shooting to score—just to get the ball near the rim.
Clang!
Another putback slam from Murasakibara.
"See that? Your king's intelligence is useless against Yōsen." Fukui's eyes glinted with provocation.
That predictive analysis that gave other teams headaches—that even troubled Rakuzan—meant nothing against Yōsen.
He wanted to see frustration, even anger, on Kasuga's face.
Instead—
Kasuga only looked impressed.
Everything was unfolding exactly as Yuuto had predicted.
From tip-off until now, every move Yōsen made had been anticipated.
"Sometimes I really feel like you've already played this game once before."
This predictive ability was like the mysterious Mayan prophecies—they'd said humanity would reach space, and in 1969, Armstrong walked on the moon.
"The game just started. Don't get careless."
"Keep up the defense. The more stable our rebounding becomes, the harder it'll hit them later."
Yuuto issued the reminder and jogged toward the frontcourt.
This had happened in his simulation too.
After repeatedly chucking shots and feeding the ball to the paint for Murasakibara's putbacks, Fukui would exploit Kasuga's tension. He'd fake out his defender multiple times to draw fouls—even converting some and-ones.
Yōsen's three towers and Himuro were their marquee players, but floor general Fukui was no pushover either.
After all, he was the starting point guard for Akita's dominant powerhouse.
"Got it. I won't get too aggressive." Kasuga nodded. He'd memorized every detail of the enemy's scouting report.
Right now, Yōsen held an absolute rebounding advantage, but that was temporary. Later on, things might change.
Kasuga took a breath and followed his teammates, bringing the ball across halfcourt.
...
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