Yuuto needed only a half to prove he had nothing left to prove.
Even a stage like March Madness couldn't affect his performance.
He was a big-game player.
However—
His teammates were affected.
Many of them had lost their shooting touch in the physical, grueling battle.
After all, without Yuuto, this Bruins team wouldn't have even qualified for the tournament this year according to the original timeline.
After several failed attempts to get his teammates going, Yuuto decided to take over himself.
After two consecutive drives to the basket—one score and one trip to the line—the Wildcats immediately tightened their coverage on him.
But Yuuto seemed to anticipate this. He suddenly cut back on his drives and started solving problems with his jumper instead.
He'd already abandoned the Mirage Shot.
Experience proved that move only worked in women's basketball. In the men's game—forget the NBA—even the NCAA was too fast for such a slow-release technique.
Ten minutes into the second half.
Yuuto's point total had climbed to 27. Breaking 30 was a certainty; 40-plus wasn't out of reach either.
Mosely and the other Bruins saw this and immediately understood their role.
They poured all their energy into defense.
This defensive focus created problems for the Wildcats. Their team offense no longer flowed like a tide—under UCLA's relentless pressure, they started clanking shots.
Seeing this, Lillard realized his moment had arrived.
His team needed him to step up!
But—
Yuuto's defensive pressure had become suffocating.
He was like a shadow attached to Lillard, denying any space for drives or shots.
In the end, Lillard had no choice but to rely on pure talent—a massive step-back three from well beyond the arc, rising into his jumper.
Clang~
The ball hit the backboard.
Swish~
It bounced in.
Lillard landed on his rear and slid backward, pounding his chest with his fist.
"Fuck! Lucky shot!"
Steve cursed from the sideline.
Nothing you could do about that—pure individual ability plus luck.
But Lillard had been draining shots like this all game.
After getting up, he made a gesture of checking his watch, then throwing it away.
"No Yu Time tonight. I just threw away your watch."
Idiot, that's YOUR celebration.
Yuuto complained internally, but he also felt some frustration.
These All-Star caliber talents are such a pain.
When a player's talent reached a certain level, sometimes their only real opponent was themselves.
Especially someone like Lillard—when he was in the zone, there was nothing you could do except pray.
All you could do was double-team him and deny him the ball.
Yuuto's adjustments had already maximized his defense—virtually flawless—yet Lillard kept putting the ball through the damn hoop.
"You'd better pray Jesus keeps blessing you all night."
At this point, it had nothing to do with defensive quality. He'd provided maximum contest and contact. Making those shots was just the opponent being talented.
Then—
Yuuto posted up for the ball. His teammates immediately spread the floor for isolation.
Lillard held his breath, focused. The other Wildcats stood ready to help.
For Yuuto, Lillard's individual ability was maddening.
Little did he know—
The Wildcats felt even more helpless.
Despite all their defensive schemes, they'd still allowed Yuuto to score 10 points in 10 minutes of second-half action.
And this was the second half—wasn't his shooting supposed to decline with fatigue?
Of course it did, but compared to others, his efficiency dropped less as his stamina waned.
Facing Lillard, Yuuto exploded forward without hesitation.
That absolute speed made him look like a beam of light slicing through the defense.
"Don't even think about getting past me, rookie." Lillard had speed too—he spun immediately to keep up, reaching to disrupt.
But Yuuto deliberately leaned in, using his body to create space, physically pushing Lillard back to carve out a shooting window.
Then—
Ball gathered.
Elevation.
Body tilting backward in mid-air.
Help defenders arrived, arms fully extended, but couldn't reach him.
They could only watch as Yuuto's legs kicked in the air, his body fading further away as he released.
Swish~
Another bucket. His 29th point of the game!
"It's good!"
"Yu is proving that March Madness is no different from Pac-12 play for him!"
"He's going over 30 again tonight—in a tournament game—and nobody can stop him!"
"Yu just tapped his 'watch'—he's telling the world this is his time! It's YU TIME!"
The Bruins bench erupted.
They loved a player with this much personality and ability.
Yuuto rarely did this celebration, but doing it right in Lillard's face?
It felt amazing.
"You poor thing—you'll never cross this street."
Fuck!
Lillard was furious beyond words.
This classic piece of trash talk never got old—it showed that your opponent had completely dominated you.
Because only guys who'd already blown you out had earned the right to say it.
Lillard's anger hit the boiling point. He switched back into one-on-one mode against Yuuto.
He crossed the three-point line and immediately pulled up.
His shot was sudden, but Yuuto's contest was there.
Clang~
Iron.
"Now you know why your name comes after mine."
"Because you can only hit lucky shots. But Jesus won't bless a bum all night."
"Shut the fuck up!"
Lillard was livid.
Yuuto figured Dame was about to lose it completely—but then someone threw cold water on the situation.
That someone was Yuuto himself.
His next shot clanked too.
Yuuto felt awkward inside.
He'd just finished roasting his opponent, and now he'd bricked one too. That was a face-slap that came way too fast.
But that was the inherent problem with fadeaway jumpers.
Incredibly difficult to defend, but not everyone was Jordan—able to perfect this technique to such consistent levels.
Yuuto had calculated before: his fadeaway percentage was around 57.4%. That was already elite.
The problem was, this was his NCAA rate—it would definitely drop in the NBA.
At least I still have time to practice! Sooner or later I'll upgrade it to red tier!
While Yuuto was thinking, Lillard naturally wouldn't miss his chance.
"Looks like God isn't blessing you either, you mad dog."
"You're so dumb it's amazing. I'm Chinese—we don't believe in Jesus."
This bastard is infuriating.
Lillard realized he really couldn't out-trash-talk this guy.
...
Get 20+ chapters ahead on - P.a.t.r.e.o.n "RoseWhisky"