The opening of the match between Kirisaki Daiichi and Yōsen was far beyond anyone's expectations.
The team famed for its "absolute defense," Yōsen, failed on both of its opening offensive attempts.
Instead, it was Kirisaki Daiichi that looked more like the true wall, shutting down Yōsen's every attempt to even pass the ball cleanly.
Not that Yōsen had no answers—they still had cards to play.
On their next possession, Himuro Tatsuya initiated a cross-pattern maneuver with Fukui Kensuke.
As they weaved past each other, the ball landed seamlessly in Himuro's hands.
"A cross-screen?"
"So that's their plan. It relieves the immediate pressure and creates a mismatch opportunity."
"As long as he's not facing a member of the Generation of Miracles, not even the Uncrowned Kings can stop Tatsuya."
Alexandra Garcia spoke with confidence.
Her disciple might not be a Miracle-level player, but outside of that tier, he stood above the rest.
However, the scene she'd envisioned never materialized.
Just as the cross-screen was completed, Hanamiya Makoto made a sudden and seemingly foolish decision—abandoning Himuro entirely to rush Fukui instead.
To outsiders, it looked like he'd blanked out and made a mistake, leaving both targets wide open.
But upon closer look, the moment Hanamiya moved away, Tendou's silhouette emerged behind him.
"Hmph. With this level of basic screening? You really thought it would work?" Hanamiya sneered.
He had anticipated that Yōsen would try to create a mismatch opportunity through simple cross-motion plays.
And more importantly…
"That guy over there can see everything—what's happening and what's about to happen."
Hanamiya's gaze shifted slightly toward Tendou.
The more he played with him, the more terrifying Tendou became.
...
Himuro steadied himself.
He'd promised the coach not to obsess over comparisons with Tendou. But once you were on the court—how could you not?
Beating Tendou would mean beating Taiga.
That was all he could think about.
From a logical standpoint, it made sense.
But emotionally, it was just a desperate, irrational drive.
He began his one-on-one.
Solid.
That was Tendou's first impression.
Every movement was polished to perfection—as if basketball were meant to be played this way.
A quick jab step, followed by a swift change of direction.
But it was all a façade.
Sure enough, midway through the crossover, Himuro shifted his center of gravity.
His fakes were elite—even someone as experienced as Momoi Satsuki had once called him a master of deception.
"But no matter how detailed or realistic your feints are," she'd once said, "they don't work on someone with the Six Eyes."
Thrum—
Almost simultaneously, as Himuro revealed his true direction, Tendou's left foot stepped out with perfect timing.
It was just one step.
But it completely blocked Himuro's path.
...
"What?!"
Himuro's eyes widened in shock.
Rumors were just rumors—until you experienced it firsthand, you'd never understand how terrifying Tendou's Six Eyes truly were.
Kise Ryota had come to the game today too.
His injury wasn't serious—thanks to exiting early in the last match, he'd recover after about two weeks of rest.
Watching Himuro's struggle, Kise understood it better than anyone.
He had experienced that exact feeling of hopelessness.
"So that's what it means to 'see the future'…"
Himuro met Tendou's gaze.
They shone like stars—dazzling, pulling you into a cosmic abyss.
But even so…
His younger brother and mentor were watching.
He clenched his jaw and accelerated again, prepared for a physical clash with Tendou.
The next second—
The screen seemed to go black.
In that brief moment, Himuro saw a vision—a samurai resting his hand on a katana's hilt.
Then a flash of the blade.
He didn't even see it clearly.
He only realized the ball had been stripped when he no longer felt it in his hands.
He looked down.
Tendou still held the same posture—his follow-through frozen in time.
"What made you think… that you could do what Taiga couldn't?"
Kirisaki Daiichi immediately launched into a fast break.
Just like in their drills, everyone sprinted full-speed downcourt.
...
"They're even faster than before?!"
Araki Masako was stunned.
All her preparations… rendered meaningless.
This wasn't the Kirisaki Daiichi she'd studied.
She used to be a national team player, for crying out loud.
And her opponent?
A first-year high school kid!
"Araki really made a fatal error," muttered the commentator, Tamaki Ryōta.
"She underestimated Tendou."
During their week-long joint training, Tamaki had gained a deep understanding of Tendou's basketball IQ.
Facing Kirisaki Daiichi on the court felt like matching wits with a head coach.
Actually, not just any coach.
Many of Tendou's outlandish, advanced tactics worked far better than expected.
To put it plainly—if Tendou didn't pursue a pro career, he'd still make an elite coach, capable of running a championship-level team.
...
Kirisaki Daiichi's fast break was even faster than before.
And it all stemmed from Tendou's passing—always a step ahead of everyone else.
Motoi, Seto, Yamazaki, Hanamiya…
All they had to do was sprint.
Tendou spread his fingers, wound up, and fired the ball downcourt like a cannon.
Boom!
The ball exploded through the air like a bullet, zipping past all defenders and landing in front of their leading runner.
The player winced from the impact but still finished the layup.
Even Murasakibara couldn't stop it.
Because this entire counterattack had taken less than five seconds.
And that was with Hanamiya and the others still being relatively slow.
If Tendou had been paired with Generation of Miracles teammates, the play would've ended in three seconds flat.
...
"As expected, it's not working," murmured Seirin's bench.
Despite being Kagami's older brother, Himuro had little chance of winning.
That was the cold reality.
"But still… Taiga's brother really is skilled."
Kiyoshi Teppei gave Himuro his due respect.
There might be people in this world who could beat Tendou—but Himuro Tatsuya wasn't one of them.
"His fundamentals are so polished… you can't achieve that without years of grueling training."
...
Himuro's fakes were convincing precisely because his fundamentals were so solid.
But that was exactly what made them ineffective.
Against Tendou's Six Eyes and Emperor Eye—such plays became meaningless.
It was as if basketball had a correct way to be played.
Himuro's every move was textbook perfect.
But that perfection also made him predictable.
In the face of those eyes, no feint had any real effect.
...
"This," Aida Riko said, shaking her head, "is the power of the Six Eyes and the Emperor Eye—abilities that can nullify offense entirely."
A master of feints versus a monster who could see the future.
In such a matchup, it didn't matter what was real or fake.
Because the outcome had already been decided.
...
[Vote With Your Power Stones For Bonus Chapters]
[Check My Patreon For Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!!]
[patréon.com/RoseWhisky]