The arena fell into a stunned silence. For a moment, nobody knew how to react. Then, as reality hit, a collective roar exploded: "Wow!"
"This… this is unbelievable. Nango's strength is terrifying…" Hikoichi murmured, unaware that the pen in his hand had slipped to the floor.
Sendo shook off his shock. "This kid… his strength is insane. And on top of that, his technique is getting more refined. It's ridiculous."
Uozumi reminded him, "Sendo, if you face Shohoku again, don't let Nango beat you. You're the ace of our team!"
Sendo laughed awkwardly. Confidence in handling Nango? He didn't have it—not yet. Who knew how much more Nango could improve?
Maki ran a hand through his hair, a strand falling over his forehead. "Shohoku really has an incredible player this year!"
Even the calm Sendo broke into a cold sweat. "This Nango and Rukawa Kaede are both first-years… Kiyota will face serious pressure soon!"
Kiyota, uncharacteristically, said nothing. Against a shot like Nango's, he couldn't claim superiority. But inside, he tried to convince himself: That shot had a huge element of luck. The breakthrough was risky. And when he released the ball, his body was twisted like that! Yes… it must be luck!
Kano's eyes followed Nango like he was glowing. Initially indifferent to sports, she had come only to support him. But now, seeing him dominate on the court, she was completely captivated.
"Nango! Go for it!" Kano cheered, waving her arms energetically.
Nango noticed and gave her a thumbs-up.
Even neutral spectators began cheering for Shohoku. Shoyo's cheerleaders, recovering quickly, cheered louder, as if the game's outcome depended on them.
"Tch, always showing off," Miyagi muttered, a twinge of jealousy stirring. He wanted to shine in front of Ayako too.
Sakuragi had the same thought.
Rukawa Kaede, meanwhile, felt his competitive fire ignite. He wanted to get on the court and face Nango, to see who was truly superior.
Mitsui, once eyeing the team's ace position, was forced to reconsider. He had thought first-year rookies like Nango and Rukawa were green, but Nango's performance proved otherwise. This kid had likely suppressed his offensive talent to play point guard. He… was that team-oriented?
Hanagata felt indescribable frustration. Consecutive failures should have stung, yet Nango's play obliterated his remaining fighting spirit.
The other Shoyo players were stunned, but Fujima could not afford to lose focus.
This first-year's shooting touch is on fire. Hasegawa probably can't stop him… even Kogure isn't enough. I need a plan.
Fujima clapped, drawing his team's attention. "The score and time favor us! We still have time to adjust! Nagano, Hasegawa—double-team Nango! We can't let him keep performing like this."
"Understood…" Nagano nodded.
Shoyo regrouped, but their offense faltered again. Shohoku counterattacked. The ball went directly to Nango, who dribbled, seeking an opening.
Hasegawa and Nagano closed in, ready to double-team.
Double-team? Hasegawa is faster, so I'll attack Nagano's side.
In a flash, Nango feinted toward Hasegawa, forcing him to shift. Then he swung the ball to drive straight at Nagano. The first-year easily blew past him. Hasegawa, cut off by Nagano, was a half-beat behind.
Hanagata and Takano adjusted quickly in the paint, converging on Nango. Seeing four defenders now on him, Nango passed to the three-point line—Glasses-kun, Kogure.
Kogure blinked, surprised. Akagi shouted, "Shoot quickly! Nobody's guarding you!"
Kogure adjusted and fired. The ball swished through the net smoothly.
When all five Shohoku starters were on the court, Nango didn't hog the spotlight. But with this lineup, the main offensive threats were Nango and Akagi. Akagi's potential was limited by Shoyo's iron defense, so now Nango could unleash full firepower.
With Nango orchestrating, Shohoku attacked inside and out, chasing Shoyo relentlessly. He and Akagi worked together to suppress Fujima and Hanagata, the twin stars of Shoyo, and managed to tie the score at 64—bringing both teams back to even ground.
"Damn it…" Fujima gritted his teeth, resenting his height. With Maki alone, he could tolerate it—after all, that "Monster" was a unique player. But now, facing another Nango, discomfort ran deep.
In the original match, Shoyo had used Sakuragi, who had four fouls, to push offense, yet they only scored 60 points and lost by 2.
What did that show? Both teams weren't offensively elite—they prioritized defense, just in different ways.
Shoyo relied on their four-tall-players' iron curtain: You can't score, and you'll struggle even to think about it!
Shohoku leaned on Sakuragi and Akagi's rebounds, creating second-chance points and transition plays.
Shoyo's past loss to Toyotama stemmed from this: without Fujima scoring 20 points in the first half, nobody could step up. Once Fujima was neutralized, the team couldn't score and depended on luck.
But defending Fujima was no easy task; Kainan had faced similar challenges.
Nango reflected: Fujima reminded him of CP3—an all-around, fast leader who controlled tempo but couldn't single-handedly carry the team if teammates stalled.
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