As Shiro shot up with incredible speed, his long left arm stretched forward like a massive cage, looming over Aomine.
Feeling Shiro's suffocating defensive pressure, Aomine's expression darkened. 'Damn, am I really about to get blocked here?'
The onlookers shook their heads in disbelief. It seemed like Shiro was about to take control of the play.
Gritting his teeth under the intense pressure, Aomine felt a sudden surge of defiance. Without hesitation, he leaned all the way back, testing the limits of his balance as if challenging gravity itself.
Just as Shiro began descending from his jump, Aomine's body tilted at an absurd angle, almost parallel to the ground, the gap between him and the floor no more than 40 degrees. The crowd gasped, stunned by the audacity of the move.
Even Shiro was shocked. 'Unbelievable... Aomine's only a first-year, and he's already showing signs of mastering the formless shot!'
In that instant, Aomine's figure seemed like lightning splitting the sky—or an eagle soaring mid-flight. His basketball shot narrowly evaded Shiro's reach, as Aomine flicked his wrist effortlessly toward the hoop.
The ball flew toward the basket with an eerie, unnatural spin—almost like magic. Yet fate had its own plans. Instead of swishing through the net, it slammed into the back rim with a crisp clang, sending the ball bouncing precariously on the edge of the hoop.
Each bounce had everyone holding their breath, wondering if it would drop. Finally, after two nerve-wracking rebounds, the ball surrendered to gravity and tumbled into the basket.
"Formless shot?!" Shiro exclaimed. "Aomine, you sure know how to surprise people."
His gaze grew more serious, recognizing that he'd have to give everything he had to respond to this level of skill.
Even Aomine was stunned by what he'd pulled off, feeling exhilarated. 'This shot… it matches perfectly with my style. It just fits.'
"Damn!"
"No way!"
The gym erupted in thunderous applause and cheers, stunned by the brilliance of Aomine's move.
Grinning ear to ear, Aomine taunted Shiro as he held the ball. "What's wrong, Shiro? Not enough? Let's go again!"
The crowd focused intently as Aomine prepared for his next offensive move, eager to see how Shiro would respond.
Shiro only smiled at the teasing, refocusing immediately. After checking the ball, he glued himself to Aomine, his defensive presence growing more oppressive with every second. Aomine struggled to find room to dribble, and Shiro's deceptively lean frame pushed him back with surprising force.
Aomine tried to force his way through but gained no ground. Running out of options, he pulled back slightly to reset, but Shiro, with his impeccable defensive instincts, anticipated the move.
The moment Aomine lowered the ball, Shiro's hand shot out, leaving only a blur as he swatted the ball clean out of bounds.
Aomine stood frozen in place. He couldn't believe Shiro's defense had reached such a terrifying level, capable of cutting off his plays so decisively.
"That defense is suffocating!"
"Yeah, it's like running into a brick wall—you just can't breathe around him!"
The spectators were in awe. First, they'd witnessed Aomine's unstoppable offense, now, Shiro was showcasing defense at the same insane level. It was clear that the gap between ordinary players and these prodigies was astronomical.
From the second-floor stands, an elderly coach with white hair observed the duel with burning intensity. "Looks like we've found something special this year, don't you think, Nijimura?"
Beside him, Shuzo Nijimura, tall and composed, smiled slightly.
"Yeah, these two aren't just good—they're among the best in the country, even among junior schoolers."
The elderly coach, Kozo Shirogane, nodded toward the court, indicating the other talents in the gym—Akashi and the others.
"But it's not just these two. Those three kids with the different-colored hair? The five of them together might be the best talents Japan has ever seen. The basketball scene here is about to change."
Nijimura's voice filled with excitement. "Coach, do you plan to start working with them early? We can't afford to waste talent like this."
Shirogane smiled but shook his head. "The assistant coach will handle their training for now. I'm getting old—who knows how much longer I'll be coaching."
"Coach, you're not that old—" Nijimura started to say, but Shirogane cut him off with a gentle wave.
"Relax, Nijimura. I'll be back to guide you all three months before the summer Nationals. Until then, let them grow on their own." With that, Shirogane shuffled away, leaving the gym.
Back on the court, Shiro and Aomine had already switched roles. Now it was Shiro's turn to attack.
Shiro positioned himself just a step beyond the three-point line, his gaze locked on the hoop. Aomine gave him space, standing inside the arc, unconvinced that Shiro would shoot from so far out.
With a quiet chuckle, Shiro thought to himself 'You're really gonna leave me open? You think my threes are just a joke?'
Seeing the wide-open shot, Shiro leaped confidently and released the ball with lightning speed.
"The arc and rotation are perfect—this shot's going in for sure," Midorima muttered under his breath, pushing up his glasses with a knowing smile.
"Swish!" The ball sailed cleanly through the net, leaving the gym in stunned silence.
Aomine stared wide-eyed, unable to process what had just happened. He had jumped too late, and Shiro's quick release from beyond the arc had already done the damage.
The score was now 1-1.
Taking a deep breath, Aomine felt a rush of excitement. 'This guy's the real deal. He stared intensely at the ball, vowing to himself, Next time, I'll stop him!'
After checking the ball again, Aomine knew he couldn't afford to give Shiro any more space. He closed the gap, staying within half a step, his focus razor-sharp.
But Shiro remained unfazed. With the ball in his hands, he faked a jump shot, causing Aomine's center of gravity to shift ever so slightly.
Seizing the moment, Shiro took a smooth step to his right and burst forward.
Aomine instantly adjusted, sticking close to Shiro, ready to steal the ball with his signature speed.
But Shiro anticipated the move. Using his body, he bumped Aomine off-balance and stretched his long arm to dribble further away, avoiding the steal with ease.
Aomine grimaced from the impact. "Man, that hurt!"
With Aomine momentarily shaken, Shiro executed a between-the-legs dribble, then spun around, planting himself near the right side of the free-throw line, now with his back to Aomine.
To basketball fans from his previous life, the scene would have felt all too familiar—it was the unmistakable setup for a classic Kobe Bryant post move.
'Let's see if you can handle this, Aomine' Shiro thought, channeling the technique of one of the greatest players of all time.