Kainan possession.
After the restart, Shinichi Maki gripped the basketball tightly, a trace of unwillingness lingering in his eyes. Even after being intimidated by Akashi's wildness moments ago, he refused to give up easily.
Dribbling swiftly, he charged across the half-court line—but a white figure blocked his path like a rock.
Akashi had anticipated the breakthrough, positioning himself in advance. His hands spread slightly, forming an invisible barrier.
The faint wild aura around him filled the air again. Not as intense as before, but precise—a subtle net quietly enveloping Shinichi Maki.
Instantly, Maki's movements slowed. His planned change-of-direction breakthrough faltered by half a beat.
He gritted his teeth and shifted, trying to break through Akashi's right side. But Akashi, as if reading his mind, adjusted his steps to preemptively block every space. Their bodies collided lightly, and Maki was shaken back slightly.
It's not over yet, he growled, lifting his arm to pass to Jin Soichiro on the wing.
Before he could, Akashi's hand shot out, almost growing from nowhere, precisely blocking the passing lane. The oppressive aura made Maki's arm stiffen—he abandoned the pass and guarded the ball in front of him.
The once-unstoppable Emperor Maki was now trapped as if by an invisible net. Every dribble, every attempted breakthrough, every pass—Akashi anticipated it all.
Even rare behind-the-back dribbles and crossover steps were neutralized effortlessly. Akashi's defense was an insurmountable wall.
Shinichi Maki showed a fleeting flaw, and Akashi struck.
His hand shot out like lightning—clap!—striking the side of the basketball. It flew from Maki's grip, and Akashi scooped it cleanly, immediately speeding toward Kainan's basket.
"Stop him quickly!" Coach Takato yelled, voice desperate.
Kainan's players scrambled—but Akashi's speed was unmatched. He weaved past defenders with calm precision. Facing Takasago Kazuma under the basket, he flicked a precise pass to Sendoh, who completed an easy layup.
Swish.
The court that still held a glimmer of suspense now became one-sided chaos. Akashi's control was absolute.
He drove like lightning, dunked one-handed, threaded passes through gaps to Sendoh or Uozumi for layups, orchestrating the game like a general commanding an army.
Kainan's players fought, but the faint wild aura suffused the court, paralyzing them within three meters. Agile footwork turned heavy; precise judgment slowed. They were warriors trapped in a quagmire—full of spirit but incapable of mounting resistance.
Failed Attempts
Kiyota Nobunaga clenched his fists, rushing to steal, but the aura slammed into him like a tangible force. Movements froze mid-action. Akashi passed effortlessly by him.
Muto Tadashi, learning from Kiyota's failure, tried to position himself to block a breakthrough—but Akashi's phantom-like footwork rendered him useless. A feint left Muto off-balance, and he stumbled without touching Akashi.
The gaps in Kainan's defense widened. Ryonan's score surged.
Sendoh hit a three-pointer after receiving a pass. Uozumi dunked fiercely in the paint. Fukuda Kiccho scored repeatedly, using Akashi's screens. The scoreboard lit up; Ryonan's points climbed, Kainan's stagnated.
"Double team… Shinichi Maki… Mutou… Stop him!" Coach Takato shouted hoarsely, grasping at the collapsing game.
Emperor Eye & Ankle Breaker
Shinichi Maki and Muto Tadashi lunged to block Akashi from both sides—the tightest defense of the half.
Akashi's eyes changed. A cold gleam flashed; the calm gaze became razor-sharp. Emperor Eye activated.
Every micro-movement—the subtle muscle contractions, shifts in balance, even predicted trajectories—was revealed. The basketball in his hand quickened its rhythm: thump… thump… thump…
A slight feint to the left drew Maki off-balance. Ankle Breaker activated. Akashi shifted right with lightning speed, ball switching hands, weaving like a phantom.
Muto Tadashi's foot twisted from the sudden rhythm change. He fell, unbalanced. Shinichi Maki hadn't even reacted before Akashi darted past him.
Takasago Kazuma rushed to help under the basket. Akashi barely glanced, faked a shot, and Kazuma's jump left him off-balance.
Akashi calmly raised the ball and…
Swish. The layup was perfect.
The court fell into stunned silence. Muto Tadashi and Takasago Kazuma lay on the ground, Shinichi Maki frozen, hollow-eyed. The Ryonan bench erupted. Coach Taoka Moichi jumped, cheering uncontrollably.
Aida Hikoichi bounced, shouting, "Amazing! Akashi is truly amazing!"
Kainan's players stared in disbelief. Faces pale, eyes wide, powerless.
The game continued—but Kainan's strength seemed drained. Akashi had established dominance.
Time passed, minute by minute.
The scoreboard gap grew like a snowball, widening relentlessly. Ryonan's lead was crushing Kainan, and the stadium was almost unilaterally silent.
Kainan's footsteps grew heavier, their defensive movements sluggish as if filled with lead. Even the most basic passes became prone to errors. The sharpness of the once-dominant Kanagawa Emperor Maki team had worn away under relentless setbacks.
The wild pressure trailing Akashi, like an invisible net, enveloped the court completely. Every time Kainan players approached him, fear instinctively gripped them—their muscles stiffened, their once-familiar techniques faltered.
Only Shinichi Maki never gave up.
Sweat poured down his face, soaking his jersey and leaving a dark streak across his back. Legs trembling, breathing heavy, chest heaving, yet he dragged himself to stand in front of Akashi each time the ball came near.
This was the last dignity of Emperor Maki—stubbornly standing tall even in the face of inevitable defeat.
Akashi looked at him. For the briefest instant, a flicker of appreciation passed through his heterochromatic eyes. Few opponents persisted like this, unbroken despite a huge score difference.
But appreciation did not translate to mercy. In the arena, the winner is king; pity is weakness.
Akashi dribbled, launching another wave of offense. The other Ryonan players moved seamlessly in tandem:
Fukuda Kiccho darted along the wing, diverting Kainan's attention.
Uozumi Jun boxed out in the paint, using his height to create offensive space.
Sendoh roamed the perimeter, ready to receive passes and initiate secondary attacks.
The Ryonan offense was a precise machine, every component working in perfect sync.
The basketball danced at Akashi's fingertips. Every direction change evaded Maki's defense. Every pass penetrated Kainan's collapsing formation. Even when briefly surrounded, gaps appeared effortlessly.
Shinichi Maki tried. He stretched to cut off a pass. Akashi shrugged off the attempt with a swift behind-the-back dribble, continuing to orchestrate the offense. Powerlessness welled up in Maki's chest, yet the stubborn flame in his eyes remained.
The second half was nearing its end. Ryonan's lead made any comeback seem impossible. Akashi casually stole a backcourt pass and darted toward the basket. The basketball bounced like a tolling bell for Kainan's defeat.
Shinichi Maki, Takasago Kazuma, and Kiyota Nobunaga surged forward together, abandoning other defensive positions. They formed a tight triangular barrier, arms spread wide, sealing all possible breakthrough routes.
Fear had vanished from their eyes, replaced by desperate determination—the final dignity of Emperor Maki.
"We absolutely cannot let him score again!" Kiyota Nobunaga roared, voice hoarse, muscles tensed, eyes locked on the ball.
Shinichi Maki said nothing, just gritting his teeth. Sweat slid down his temples, his gaze sharp yet tinged with tragedy. This was the last resistance he could offer.
Akashi's gaze remained calm. A sudden light flickered in his heterochromatic eyes—Emperor Eye activated.
In an instant, he analyzed every slight bend in Maki's knee, every subtle shift in Kazuma's center of gravity, every contraction in Nobunaga's arm. Their defensive gaps, next movements, vulnerabilities—all laid bare before him.
The basketball's bounce accelerated—Ankle Breaker activated.
Thump… thump… thump… The rhythm quickened, dazzling in its precision.
A shoulder fake to Maki's left drew his weight. Instantly, Akashi twisted his wrist, switching the ball to his right hand, sliding phantom-like to the right. Shinichi Maki's ankle twisted; he lost balance and fell.
Takasago Kazuma rushed to help—but before he could stabilize, Akashi had already darted past. Another crossover, ball flicking between hands like lightning, left Kazuma off-balance; he crashed to the floor.
Kiyota Nobunaga lunged next, extending his arms to block—but Akashi's subtle shift faked him out, sending him stumbling.
In just seconds, the once-impenetrable defensive formation crumbled. The path to the basket was wide open.
Akashi's steps were calm, as if strolling on his home court. One hand dribbled, moving past the fallen defenders with an aura of complete dominance. He stopped under the basket, cradled the ball, and calmly fixed his gaze on the hoop. The chaos of the court seemed to vanish around him.
"Shinichi Maki, and all of Kainan," Akashi said, calm yet clear, "to persevere to the end despite the absolute disparity, that persistence is commendable. However… you will still lose."
His wrist flexed gently. The ball left his palm, spinning softly in a perfect arc.
Swish… The net rippled crisply.
Beep. Akashi slowly lowered his hand, eyes sweeping over Shinichi Maki on the ground and the dejected Kainan players on the sidelines.
"Rest in peace! The battle-hardened king."