Shohoku was being completely suppressed—unable to fight back at all.
"Tweet!"
Coach Anzai still sat calmly on the bench, unmoved as ever.
But on the court, the situation was already suffocating the Shohoku players.
"How are we supposed to play like this?"
Ryota Miyagi wiped the sweat from his face, staring at the towering green giants around him. A sense of helplessness crept into his chest.
"Whether it's passing or shooting, we have to factor in the height difference."
"Even on defense—raise your hand and it's a foul, don't raise it and they just shoot over you…"
"So this is Shoyo…"
"A team where everyone's over 190 centimeters… what a nightmare."
—
At the sidelines, Ryonan's coach Moichi Taoka watched the scene unfold, a faint smirk curling at his lips.
"Just as I expected."
"Shoyo's height is the best in the prefecture. That's a physical advantage you simply can't overcome."
"That pass from Rukawa earlier—against an ordinary team, it would've been perfect."
"But against Shoyo, a mid-height pass like that is basically handing them points."
He turned to his players and said in a low, serious voice:
"Remember this. Against Shoyo, passing over their heads is useless."
"The moment they raise their arms, it becomes an impenetrable net."
"If you're at a clear height disadvantage and don't adjust your tactics, you'll get crushed before halftime."
"However…"
Akira Sendoh narrowed his eyes, his gaze cutting across the court.
and landing on the Shohoku bench, on that figure still yawning lazily.
"That guy… still not going in?"
—
On the Shohoku bench.
Makino Juro lounged lazily against his seat, half a bottle of water in hand, his unfocused gaze drifting across the court.
"Man… it's so noisy."
He dug at his ear, looking thoroughly annoyed.
"Hey, that long-haired guy in green—can he stop making his shooting form look so flashy?"
"And Miyagi, what are you, a mole?"
"If you can't get through up top, why don't you just dig a tunnel?"
His voice wasn't loud, but in the tense silence of the bench, it stood out sharply.
A flash of white reflected across Coach Anzai's glasses.
"Juro, do you have any suggestions?"
Makino Juro shrugged and pointed at the floor.
"If it were me, I'd just bounce the ball off the ground and send it through."
"They're tall, right? Bending down must be way harder for them than for us."
"And besides…"
He yawned, his gaze sweeping lazily over Shoyo's towering lineup. A faint, playful smile tugged at his lips.
"The taller you are, the higher your center of gravity."
"Make them run, make them turn—and these bamboo poles will trip over themselves sooner or later."
—
Back on the court.
The game continued.
Shohoku's offense was still painfully stagnant.
Takenori Akagi was being double-teamed in the paint by Hanagata and Takano—he couldn't even get the ball.
Hanamichi Sakuragi hopped around anxiously on the perimeter.
"Pass it to me!"
"This genius is going to dunk!"
He shouted at Miyagi.
With no other choice, Miyagi forced a pass to Sakuragi.
This time—it was a bounce pass.
Just as Makino Juro had said, it avoided Shoyo's aerial interceptions.
Sakuragi caught the ball, facing Shoichi Takano.
"Hah! Watch this, genius at work!"
With no feints, he charged straight toward the basket.
"Too naive!"
Takano sneered, raising both arms like an unbreakable wall.
Sakuragi jumped.
Takano jumped.
They collided mid-air.
Boom!
Sakuragi's explosive athleticism was undeniable—
but without space or momentum, his height disadvantage became glaring.
His vision was completely blocked by Takano's arms—he couldn't even see the basket.
"Get in there, damn it!"
Relying purely on brute force, he hurled the ball toward the hoop.
Smack!
A large hand came from the side—
Hanagata Toru!
Rotating over on defense, he swatted the shot away like swatting a fly.
"A monster block!"
Shoyo's crowd erupted again.
"Hahaha! What's that red-haired monkey doing?"
"Trying to score inside against Shoyo? Dream on!"
The ball rolled out of bounds.
Sakuragi landed, face flushed red, steam practically shooting out of his nostrils.
"You damn four-eyes!"
"You dare block this genius?!"
He clenched his fists and was about to charge forward, but Miyagi rushed in and grabbed him.
"Calm down, Hanamichi!"
"Do you want to foul out again?!"
"Let go, Ryota! I'm gonna teach that four-eyed frog a lesson!"
The scene nearly spiraled into chaos.
—
"Man…"
Makino Juro sighed from the bench, shaking his head.
"These guys really have muscles for brains, don't they?"
"They're clearly faster than the other team, yet they insist on competing in height and strength."
"That's just using your weaknesses to challenge their strengths."
The scoreboard now read: 6–0.
In just two minutes, Shohoku had been completely overwhelmed.
They hadn't even managed a proper shot attempt.
A feeling called despair began to spread among the Shohoku players.
Akagi stared at the scoreboard, his breathing growing heavy.
If they didn't do something…
If they didn't break this deadlock…
"MIYAGI!"
Suddenly.
A lazy voice pierced through the roaring cheers and reached Miyagi's ears.
He turned toward the bench.
Makino Juro was holding an empty bottle, making a strange gesture at him.
That was…
"Bowling?"
Miyagi blinked.
Makino Juro pointed at the floor, then at Rukawa—
and exaggerated a rolling motion along the ground.
The gesture looked ridiculous—
But Miyagi's eyes suddenly lit up.
"You mean…"
He glanced at the towering Itou Taku in front of him.
The man's arms were still raised high, guarding against overhead passes.
But down below—
Between those large feet…
There was a huge gap.
"I see!"
A grin spread across Miyagi's face again—sharp, confident, and a little rebellious.
"If we can't go over them…"
"Then we go under!"
—
Shoyo missed their next attack.
Akagi fought hard and secured the rebound.
The ball went to Miyagi.
Itou pressed forward again, looming like a tower.
"Useless, shorty. You're not getting through."
"Oh yeah?"
Miyagi sneered.
This time, he didn't try to break through or lob the ball.
His wrist snapped sharply.
BAM!
The ball slammed against the floor
Spinning fiercely like a low-flying cannonball—
and shot straight through Itou's legs!
"What?!"
Itou's eyes widened in shock. He instinctively tried to close his stance—
but it was too late.
The ball slipped cleanly through his legs and bounced perfectly into the hands of the already-moving Rukawa Kaede.
"Nice pass!"
The moment Rukawa caught the ball, the space in front of him opened wide.
Before Hasegawa could recover—
Rukawa had already become a streak of black lightning, tearing through Shoyo's defense.
"Not so fast!"
Hanagata rushed over to help.
Rukawa didn't force the shot.
Mid-air, he adjusted—switching hands in a smooth double-clutch—
and dished the ball under his arm to the trailing figure on the other side.
Takenori Akagi caught it.
No one in front of him.
"GET IN THERE!!"
He exploded upward—
Both hands gripping the ball
and slammed it down with all his might.
BOOM!
The rim trembled violently.
Akagi hung on the rim, looking down at Hanagata beneath him.
"This… is Shohoku's counterattack!"
6–2.
Shohoku finally broke the drought.
The arena fell silent for a moment.
Then erupted into gasps.
That pass just now…
That through-the-legs bounce pass…
It was like a scalpel, slicing open Shoyo's defense with surgical precision.
Moichi Taoka shot to his feet, eyes locked onto the Shohoku bench.
Just before passing, Miyagi had clearly looked over there.
"That lazy brat…"
Taoka stared at Makino Juro, who was still yawning.
His expression turned grave.
"Just by watching from the bench… he found a way to break the deadlock instantly?"
"Makino Juro… just what kind of monster are you?"
END OF CHAPTER
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