The air in the gymnasium seemed to solidify, each breath carrying a heavy tension.
A Mu's hand holding the ball was as steady as iron, the two consecutive scores just now reigniting the fire in his eyes.
He stared at Sendoh, dribbling at an extremely low rhythm, the sound of the basketball hitting the floor like a countdown.
Suddenly, he lunged to the right, his left shoulder sinking almost to the ground, using the force of physical contact to forcefully squeeze out half an inch of space.
Sendoh's defense was like a shadow, his arm tightly clamped around A Mu's waist, but A Mu used the momentum of the collision to sharply turn—it was a back-to-the-basket move!
This turn was as quick as wringing a towel, A Mu's back hitting Sendoh's chest, and using the reactive force, he suddenly leaned back, raising the ball over his head with his right hand.
Sendoh immediately jumped to block, but A Mu's shooting motion suddenly paused, and with a slight flick of his wrist, the basketball slid from his fingertips in a strange arc, grazing the top of the backboard and falling into the hoop.
“Swish—”
8:4.
Hainan's bench erupted in deafening cheers, Kiyota Nobunaga jumped higher than anyone: “That’s it! Captain! Catch up on the score!”
A Mu landed, breathing heavily, but for the first time, he deliberately raised his chin at Sendoh, his eyes filled with undisguised fighting spirit.
It was Sendoh's turn to attack, his dribbling rhythm noticeably faster, attempting to tear open the defense with speed.
But A Mu's defense was like a tightening fishing net; every change in direction was precisely anticipated, every breakthrough was pushed back by physical contact. The basketball was pulled between the two, time ticking by second by second, until the 24-second shot clock lit up red, and Sendoh's final jump shot was still interfered with by A Mu's fingertips, bouncing off the rim.
“Violation!” The referee's whistle sounded.
As A Mu bent down to pick up the ball, a faint curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He knew Sendoh's patience was being worn down.
In the next possession, A Mu used the same trick.
It was another back-to-the-basket move followed by a fadeaway jump shot; this time, Sendoh's block was even fiercer, his fingertips almost touching the ball, but A Mu still twisted his body in the air to evade it.
“Swish—”
8:5.
Hainan's fans completely erupted, a golden wave sweeping through the stands, the shouts of “A Mu” almost tearing off the roof.
Takato Riki's tense shoulders finally relaxed by half a point; he put down his thermos, the white marks on his knuckles from gripping tightly slowly fading, but a hint of imperceptible worry was hidden in his eyes—A Mu's physical exertion was already very evident.
Taoka Moichi stood at the sideline, his palms covered in sweat, his shouts hoarse: “Sendoh! Calm down! Think about the rhythm from practice! Don't let him lead you astray!”
Sendoh stood with his hands on his hips, panting, sweat running down his neck into his jersey, feeling cold against his back.
Two consecutive 24-second violations were like two heavy hammers, making his temples throb.
But when he looked up and saw Gu Jin making a “steady” gesture from the sidelines, his turbulent emotions suddenly settled.
Right, what's the rush?
One-on-one not only tests skill but also mindset!
When masters clash, one slight mistake, how can it be called upon again?
These were Gu Jin's words; although somewhat obscure when translated into Japanese, he understood that details determine success!
Today, he was going to defeat A Mu in front of everyone.
To tell everyone with his actions that Ryonan had risen!
He took the ball again, his dribbling rhythm surprisingly slow, as if he was re-measuring the court.
A Mu's defensive center of gravity was even lower, ready to react to his breakthrough at any moment.
Suddenly, Sendoh moved.
It wasn't a fierce change of direction, but a slow front crossover, the basketball spinning half a circle on his fingertips, as if teasing the defense.
The moment A Mu's center of gravity subtly adjusted, Sendoh's wrist suddenly accelerated!
The basketball traced a lightning-fast arc behind his back, switching to his left hand, while his left toe sharply ground into the floor—this Kashgar Step was more devious than any before, the angle of his knee almost touching the ground, his entire body cutting in from the left like an arrow released from a bow!
A Mu's reaction was already at its fastest, but his lateral movement was still half a beat too slow.
Sendoh's left shoulder brushed past A Mu's armpit, and in the air, his right hand steadily caught the basketball from behind, his body arcing gracefully through the air.
“Slam!”
The basketball was slammed into the hoop! It was a dunk!
9:5.
Ryonan's bench cheers were deafening, Taoka Moichi jumped up directly, tearing off his jacket and throwing it on the ground, revealing a dark gray short-sleeved shirt; he waved his arms like a child: “That's it! Sendoh! Finish him!”
A Mu stared at the hoop, sweat dripping into his eyes, making them sting so he couldn't open them.
He knew his stamina was nearing its limit. His exertion was far greater than Sendoh's.
In the final possession, he broke through with all his might, but his layup was blocked with all of Sendoh's strength, the basketball bouncing out of bounds.
Possession went to Sendoh.
The 24-second shot clock began to count down, Sendoh wasn't in a hurry to attack, just slowly dribbling the ball, as if savoring these final moments.
When the timer reached the last three seconds, he suddenly jumped, a pull-up jump shot.
The basketball traced a perfect arc in the air.
“Swish—”
10:6.
The whistle blew, and the game ended.
The entire gymnasium was first deathly silent, then erupted in a thunderous roar of cheers.
Ryonan's players surged onto the court like a tide, surrounding Sendoh and tossing him into the air.
The commentator's voice, filled with uncontrollable excitement, almost cracked: “It's over! The game is over! 10:6! Ryonan's Sendoh Akira has defeated Kanagawa's reigning Emperor! This is a moment of changing of the guard! The era of Sendoh has begun!”
When Sendoh was put down by his teammates, he saw A Mu standing in place, his chest heaving violently.
He walked over and extended his hand to the other player.
A Mu looked at that hand, still stained with sweat and dust, yet carrying an undeniable strength.
He gripped Sendoh's hand, with a force that almost crushed the other's bones.
“In a one-on-one, you are indeed stronger,” A Mu's voice was hoarse, but exceptionally clear, “But remember, Sendoh Akira, in the Prefectural Tournament, Hainan will not lose.”
Sendoh smiled, a sharp glint in his eyes: “We shall see.”
Taoka Moichi rushed over and hugged Sendoh, his beard tickling, his voice choked with emotion: “Did you see, Takato! I told you! My Ryonan will definitely rise!”
It was no wonder Taoka Moichi was so excited; Sendoh Akira was his finest creation, meticulously sculpted by his own hands.
Takato Riki stood in place, his thermos in his hand now empty, he didn't know when.
He looked at Sendoh, surrounded by light on the court, then at the lonely back of his own captain, the composure in his eyes finally shattered completely.
It was a complex emotion, mixed with unwillingness, disappointment, yet having to admit the reality—A Mu's absolute dominance might truly be coming to an end.
Gu Jin leaned against the railing, watching the figure bathed in light on the court, a smile playing on his lips.
The battle of the new kings had just begun.