"Clang!"
The basketball was gracefully dunked into the hoop by Ryōta, unstoppable and unguardable. Teikō's dominance was on full display, especially with Ryōta's confident play.
On the court, Shōgo and Coach Kudo had expected this outcome, and it was the result they aimed for.
Since Fukuda Integrated couldn't stop Teikō Junior High from scoring, why bother trying to prevent it?
If Teikō could consistently score, why allow them to earn only 2 points when they could get 3 points? This was Shōgo and Ichiro Kudo's ultimate plan. Let Teikō score 2 points at will; even if they did, Shōgo would respond with a score of his own.
Furthermore, whenever Shōgo had the ball, he either scored 2 points or 3 points, ensuring he wouldn't be at a disadvantage.
If the game continued in this manner, victory might eventually tip in favor of Fukuda.
Shōgo and Coach Kudo's strategy was quickly discerned by Teikō's coach, Coach Shirogane. However, this was a tactical move, and he could do nothing about it.
As long as Shōgo guarded Shintarō, whether it was Atsushi, Ryōta, or members of Teikō's second team who scored, it made no difference to Fukuda.
Another puzzling situation that troubled Coach Shirogane was the lack of impact from Tetsuya on the court.
Just as Coach Shirogane was pondering this, Satsuki spoke up.
"Coach, it seems like Tetsuya-kun has been sealed. There's something odd about Fukuda's No.11."
"Sealed? What do you mean?"
Satsuki flipped open her notebook and examined the data of Fukuda's captain, Arata. She found it hard to believe.
"Coach, that No.11 from Fukuda Junior High is average in terms of skills, awareness, ball sense, and athleticism but excels in stamina."
"Then, how is he able to guard Tetsuya?"
Satsuki closed the notebook, her disbelief evident.
"Coach, Fukuda Junior High employs a man-to-man defensive formation, which is the most effective against Tetsuya's misdirection. Moreover, Fukuda's players are all quite ordinary. Their lack of awareness prevents them from perceiving changes on the court and reacting accurately. Paradoxically, this became a method to counter Tetsuya."
To simplify, it was like a skilled gamer being able to predict the actions of other skilled players in a game while being unable to predict the erratic behavior of novice players. The current situation on the court mirrors this. Fukuda's players, who should have been attentive to court changes, lacked the overall ability to react promptly to sensitive elements. Consequently, they became fixated on their mission to tightly mark opposing players.
Coach Shirogane listened as Satsuki explained Fukuda's formation and was impressed.
"Coach, take a close look at the gaze and focus of Fukuda's No.11."
"Hmm?"
Coach Shirogane, intrigued, looked at Fukuda's ordinary No.11, a player who wouldn't even make Teikō's second team.
"Coach, that Fukuda No.11 has never paid attention to the ball. His eyes are only on Tetsuya-kun. He's never thought about receiving, shooting, passing, or dribbling. Tetsuya-kun is all he sees."
"Coach, I never imagined there could be such a player in the world who…"
"Is this still basketball?"
Coach Shirogane's brow furrowed deeply. The playing style of that individual was, to some extent, similar to Tetsuya's.
Tetsuya focused on passing, while Fukuda's No.11 focused on guarding.
What in the world? How could Fukuda produce such a peculiar player? This was completely irrational and nonsensical.
Leaving aside the conversation and contemplation between Satsuki and Coach Shirogane in the resting area, Shōgo, who had already received the ball, had advanced to Teikō's half of the court.
All eyes were on him, waiting to see if Shōgo would attempt a three-pointer.
With a slight smile on his face, Shōgo positioned himself, slightly crouched, and then jumped.
The basketball was released, tracing a high arc before dropping into the net.
This scene left Ryōta, Atsushi, Satsuki, Coach Shirogane, and even Tetsuya gaping, their eyes widening in utter astonishment at Shōgo.
And within their hearts flashed a single word: "Pillage"
"How is this possible?"
Ryōta's pupils constricted to pinpricks, unable to believe what he had just witnessed. Was this still the same Shōgo as before? Was this the same Shōgo who was less talented than Ryōta?
What the heck, Akashi Seijūrō? What kind of messed-up perception do you have? Is this Shōgo's lack of talent? This was Ryōta's dark thought, buried deep inside him at the moment.
With a swift turn, Shōgo returned to defense, ignoring the astonishment and trepidation of Teikō's players.
Of course, astonishment was a common occurrence in the Generation of Miracles, while trepidation came from the members of the second team.
"Hey, hey, hey! It's getting tricky now. The current Shōgo is terrifying, right? Isn't that right, Shintarō?"
"It's getting tricky indeed, but it won't stop us from winning."
Ryōta dribbled the ball past half-court and once again passed it to Shintarō. At this moment, Shōgo also approached.
Feeling Shōgo's momentum, Shintarō realized he couldn't just ignore him and take a direct shot.
Just then, a tall figure closed in, blocking Shōgo's approach.
Seizing the opportunity, Shintarō crouched, lifted his hand, and shot the ball. The basketball grazed the rim before softly dropping into the net, triggering cheers from the audience.
However, standing still, Shintarō raised his left hand in disbelief and looked at Shōgo. How was this possible?
The shot had gone in and scored three points, hadn't it?
But the basketball hadn't gone in as cleanly as Shintarō expected; it had brushed against the rim. This subtle difference might have been lost on others, but Shintarō, as the person involved, couldn't help but understand the situation.
His three-point shooting skill had been plundered. Although he could still use it, Shōgo's plundering had affected him. He was already under the influence of Shōgo's rhythm, and he couldn't fully unleash his original power.