At that moment, a crisp "smack!" echoed through the court.
Aomine, fully unleashed in his animal instinct, displayed unmatched speed and power, moving like an unstoppable force of nature.
Even though Midorima had expertly shifted his center of gravity, adjusting his rhythm to throw Aomine off, the ace of Too still closed the gap in an instant, relying purely on his insane athletic ability.
His movements were like a predator hunting its prey—soaring into the air, he executed a jaw-dropping block. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as the ball hung in the air before Aomine swatted it down with authority.
After rejecting Midorima's three-pointer, Aomine didn't pause for a second. He immediately recovered the ball and took off like a phantom.
His silhouette streaked across the court like a bolt of lightning, leaving everyone else in the dust.
As he reached Shutoku's basket, he exploded off the ground, throwing down a devastating tomahawk dunk. The sheer force of it was godlike, sending shockwaves through the entire stadium.
The deadlock was broken instantly — 30 to 33.
The crowd erupted into a frenzy, their collective gasps and cheers merging into a tidal wave of sound that shook the arena.
"Too fast!"
"Is that really Aomine?!"
"That speed is unreal!"
These exclamations were the perfect testament to Aomine's sheer dominance when fully unleashed.
The Shutoku players had barely turned around to chase him down, only to realize he had already finished the dunk.
Landing gracefully, Aomine locked eyes with Midorima and smirked—an expression dripping with confidence and challenge.
"Sorry, Midorima. The only one who can beat me... is me!"
Midorima's expression turned grim. He knew that conventional shooting wouldn't be enough to get past Aomine anymore.
Aomine's speed, power, and sheer animal instinct put him under immense pressure unlike anything he had felt before.
If he wanted to stand a chance, he had to go all out.
"Takao, pass me the ball!" Midorima called out, a rare moment of him actively demanding possession.
Takao, who had just brought the ball past half-court, didn't hesitate for a second. Without wasting a beat, he whipped the ball to Midorima — because if there was one thing he believed in, it was his ace.
His movements were smooth and precise, reflecting both his trust in Midorima and his burning desire to win.
As Midorima caught the pass, he once again found himself face-to-face with Aomine. Their gazes clashed in the air, sparks practically flying between them.
Aomine's confidence was unmistakable. His entire aura radiated absolute faith in his own ability.
"Give it up, Midorima. You're not getting past me." His voice carried the arrogance of someone who had never believed in limits.
"Oh yeah? Just watch" Midorima's response was short, but every word hit like a hammer, shaking Aomine's overconfidence.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, Midorima executed a flawless step-back move, pulling up for a shot.
His motion was seamless — no wasted movement, no hesitation.
"I already told you, that won't work!" Aomine grinned defiantly as he leapt into the air, fully extending to contest the shot.
But—
Midorima had planned for this.
As he jumped, he leaned backward, releasing a picture-perfect fadeaway that sent the ball just out of Aomine's reach.
This was a move he had perfected through countless hours of practice — one that tested not only his balance and core strength but also his nerves of steel.
"A fadeaway… from midcourt?!" Aomine's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't seen Midorima play earlier in the tournament, so he had no idea his rival had added this weapon to his arsenal.
His block had been completely neutralized.
The ball sailed in a perfect arc, stretching high over the court before dropping cleanly through the net with a satisfying swish!.
"No way!"
"That's insane!"
"This is why he's the Generation of Miracles' sniper!"
The crowd roared in disbelief. Even though they had seen Midorima's absurd range before, witnessing it live still left them breathless.
"Damn..." Moyun turned to Shiro, eyes filled with shock and admiration.
Some of the others, having watched Seirin's game against Shutoku, were more prepared for this sight.
Shiro chuckled. "Better get ready. Next time we play Shutoku, you're gonna be the one guarding him."
"That's just not human..." Moyun muttered under his breath, equal parts frustrated and impressed.
Shooting a fadeaway from midcourt, with perfect form and consistency — he knew just how much core strength and shooting precision that required.
He still had a long way to go.
"I've got a lot of catching up to do..." Moyun sighed.
"What, giving up already?" Shiro's voice was light, but there was a teasing edge to it.
Moyun grinned. "Give up? The stronger the opponent, the better, right?" His eyes gleamed with renewed determination. As a shooting guard, there was nothing he wanted more than to go head-to-head with the best.
Shiro nodded subtly, impressed by his resolve. In basketball, the only way to grow was to challenge yourself against stronger players—only then could you break past your limits.
Back on the court, the tension was almost tangible.
With Midorima's impossible shot, the game was tied once again—33 to 33.
The audience held their breath. Every possession could shift the momentum.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Didn't expect you to improve this much, Midorima."
Aomine's smirk returned, his tone light yet laced with excitement.
"But that's good. If you went down that easy, this wouldn't be any fun."
His words carried both playful arrogance and a deep respect for his rival.
Without hesitation, Imayoshi immediately got the ball to Aomine.
For Too Academy, there was no better weapon than their ace. As long as Aomine was on the floor, they had a way to win.
The rest of the team moved in sync, clearing the court for Aomine to operate. Their coordination was seamless — everyone knew their role.
And once again, Aomine and Midorima stood face-to-face. Their eyes met, the intensity of their duel reaching its peak.
Midorima's gaze sharpened. He had to stop Aomine here — if not, Too would keep pushing the pace, and Shutoku would struggle to keep up.
He also had no way of knowing just how much Aomine was holding back.
"You've got some guts, but it's pointless" Aomine's voice was laced with amused condescension, but beneath it was his unwavering confidence.
Then—
With a single crossover into a quick in-and-out dribble, Aomine was gone.
"Whoosh!"
The ball, seemingly alive in his hands, danced with his body movements as he cut through the court like a blade.
His unmatched speed left Midorima reeling—before he could react, Aomine had already blown past him.
A second later, he was at the basket once more.
And everyone knew exactly what was coming next.