"Your defense isn't much better. Don't lump me in with those sewer rats."
Lillard's face was smug.
His projected draft position wasn't as high as Yuuto's.
Though dubbed one of the most NBA-ready prospects, his age meant his ceiling was limited.
The NBA was a place that worshipped raw talent, and youth typically meant higher potential and malleability.
Once a player passed twenty, they were considered to have diminished upside—their value discounted.
Of course, there were exceptions. Like Duncan—a historically great power forward.
He'd played all four years of college before entering the draft, yet still triggered a league-wide tank-a-thon.
But Duncan was the exception.
Jerry West had recognized as early as Duncan's freshman year that if he declared, he'd be the undisputed number one pick.
But Duncan stayed to fulfill his mother's dying wish.
His mother had passed from cancer when he was fourteen.
On her deathbed, she'd asked him to complete his college education.
She probably never imagined her son would become such an extraordinary basketball talent.
If she could have stayed by his side, Duncan might have left for the NBA much earlier.
After all, completing a degree was about securing a future.
Professional athletics was a brutal winnowing—every player who made it was someone chosen by fate.
"Ignore him, Yu. Play your game."
"I will. This kind of trash talk is nothing to me."
After saying this, he immediately added:
"Give me the ball."
Mosely hadn't even crossed halfcourt yet, but he already knew he wasn't getting any touches.
He brought the ball up and handed it to Yuuto. His teammates instantly spread the floor, clearing out to build a one-on-one stage.
Lillard saw it and stepped up without hesitation.
He lowered his center of gravity, arms spread wide.
Defensive technique mattered, but attitude mattered more.
Tonight, Dame's attitude was exceptional.
Yuuto lowered his stance too, then suddenly jabbed right.
This time, Lillard shifted his weight to cover it—but Yuuto crossed over simultaneously.
In a heartbeat, Lillard's defensive balance was destroyed. He tried to recover with his speed.
But—
Yuuto seemed to read his movement before it happened. Before Lillard could reset, Yuuto crossed over again, his body brushing past his defender toward the opposite side.
Lillard gritted his teeth and gave chase, his elite core strength and speed allowing him to recover.
It was useless.
Yuuto's Demon Eyes had already seen through everything. A lateral step-back created separation once more.
This step-back jumper—in an era when players either launched from deep or attacked the rim—was considered flashy but inefficient.
The lateral step-back, in particular, was frowned upon by experts.
No other reason: too unreliable.
But this quick step-back jumper created massive separation from defenders. With excellent body balance and flexibility, it became nearly unguardable.
Swish~
The ball dropped through.
Yuuto landed and tapped his wrist—Lillard's signature celebration.
But Lillard didn't have that celebration yet, so he had no idea what the gesture meant.
After a moment's thought, he decided Yuuto was mocking him.
Is he saying his offensive possessions take way less time than mine?
Dame's reading comprehension was perfect. He was pissed.
He swore he'd make this cocky Asian kid pay tonight.
After that basket, the duel escalated.
Lillard was listed as a point guard but played nothing like one—he'd been firing at will since tipoff.
Who says you can't be unguardable?
Right back at you.
Lillard attacked immediately, as if competing against Yuuto. After crossing halfcourt, he accelerated toward the three-point line, then pulled up and launched.
This ridiculously difficult, audacious three-pointer—Lillard just let it fly.
And this unreasonable shot went in.
"He hits it! An incredible three-pointer! Damian Lillard is trying to prove he's the better college player!"
Lillard answered back. Yuuto had no great solution for that kind of shot.
His brain worked furiously, searching for a counter.
But his brain told him the exploitable windows were few—this guy's shot difficulty was just too high.
And high-difficulty shots were often indefensible. Like Curry's gravity.
This was what made Lillard dangerous.
He'd always been one of the league's most explosive scorers.
Once hot, he could drain shots from anywhere.
Unlike J.R. Smith's volatile streakiness, Lillard had speed—his driving game was a safety net.
That's why Lillard could become an All-Star despite his defense. His offense was just too sharp. When he was on, it covered everything.
Seconds later—
As if proving a point, Yuuto showed he could match whatever Lillard did—and do it better.
His signature fadeaway.
Lillard couldn't reach it.
His body wasn't as strong as Yuuto's—one back-down and defending became impossible.
But he jumped anyway, fingertips grazing only air.
Swish!
Another basket. The arena erupted.
Superstar duels were everyone's favorite.
The invisible pressure would build with each exchange.
A feeling that if you missed this one, you'd already lost.
"Look at this—Yu and Damian have turned this game into their personal show!"
"They've scored every single point for both teams since tipoff!"
The commentators were electrified.
Nothing beat watching two future NBA stars trade buckets.
"Yu is still Yu—the Yu we know—but tonight Damian is making a statement! He won't be overshadowed by talk of Yu or AD!"
But even these freaks couldn't sustain a full game of iso ball.
After both finally misfired, they silently agreed to involve their teammates.
"Don't iso him right now," Steve said during a free throw break, pulling Yuuto aside. "Use your abilities. Observe. When you're ready, go for the kill."
He obviously wanted Yuuto to destroy Lillard, but first-round talents were first-rounders for a reason—not easily dismissed.
...
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