The Art of the Fake: The Starting Point

The lights in the Teikō First Team Training Hall were as bright as day, reflecting off the polished wooden floor like ice. The air was thick with the scent of evaporating sweat, the dull echoes of basketballs pounding the floor, and the invisible smell of gunpowder born from clashes between top-tier talents. Yet in one corner of the court, far from the heart of the noisy struggle, a silent battle over the essence of "deception" was taking place.

Bai Ze You stood alone before a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. His tall figure was reflected clearly in the glass, the silver-gray tips of his hair damp with sweat and clinging to his smooth forehead. His amber eyes were like the most precise measuring instruments, locked firmly onto every minute movement of his body in the mirror. Sweat slid along the smooth lines of his muscles and dripped onto the floor, spreading into small dark patches, but he remained completely unaware of it.

Phantom Dance of the Shoulders: He slowly lowered his center of gravity, his upper body swaying slightly to the left like a ripple on water. The movement was so small it was almost impossible to detect. The reflection moved in sync. You's gaze was as sharp as a falcon's, fixed on the angle of his sinking left shoulder—15 degrees? No, 18 degrees! Not deceptive enough! He forcibly controlled his muscles and precisely adjusted the drop to 25 degrees. At the same time, his left scapula drew back ever so slightly, creating a more realistic sensation of force being applied. A rudimentary shoulder fake was being tempered into something increasingly lifelike through countless dull repetitions and adjustments measured in millimeters.

Blade of the Eyes: Maintaining his posture, he suddenly sharpened his gaze, stabbing at the empty space on the left side of the mirror like a tangible needle. The focus of his eyes, the degree of his pupils' contraction, even the minute tension around his eyes—all of it was under his Absolute Control. Sharp! Focused! Filled with the desire to break through! Then his gaze instantly returned to level, as though it had never shifted. Next, he stabbed toward the right side again. Every switch was swift, precise, and deceptive. The eyes were the soul of a fake, the first spark that ignited an opponent's nervous warning system!

Footwork Trap: His left foot extended half a step toward the front left with extreme subtlety. His toe touched the floor, his heel hovered, and his center of gravity leaned slightly forward, as if he would explode off the floor the next second. The reflection mirrored him like a duplicate, matching this deceptive probing step. He repeatedly adjusted the angle of his toe, the height of his heel, and the degree of his forward lean, searching for the golden ratio that would best stir a defender's nerves and lure their center of gravity off balance. Every tiny adjustment was accompanied by precise exertion and control from his ankle and calf muscles.

Concert of the Whole Body: He tried again! Shoulders lowered 25 degrees! Eyes sharpened toward the left! Left-foot probing step precisely in place! The deceptive signals from the three parts were like the gears of an exquisitely precise machine, synchronizing and resonating under the command of his nerves. At that moment, the reflection perfectly displayed a lethal threat intent on breaking through from the left. Realistic! Fluid! Flawless!

"Bang... bang... bang..." The basketball pounded rhythmically beside him, like drumbeats accompanying this silent art of deception. Every repetition and every adjustment dug deeper into the essence of "deception," reshaping muscle memory and neural reflexes to their limits. The foundation of the phantom was buried in this unbearably dull struggle over millimeters, where not even the slightest falsehood was allowed. Sweat soaked through his gray training vest, clinging to his bulging back muscles and outlining the perfect lines of strength and control. His old back injury ached faintly under the sustained exertion, like a silent warning bell reminding him that every movement had to be precise and efficient, without wasting the slightest bit of force.

"Hey! Phantom boy! Done admiring yourself in the mirror yet?!" Aomine Daiki's impatient, provocative roar crashed down like a heavy hammer, shattering the silence in the corner. His dark-blue figure approached with a wave of heat and sweat, his tall body casting an oppressive shadow. His dark-blue eyes burned with displeasure at being ignored and blazing fighting spirit. "What's the use of practicing those flashy tricks all day? Give me something real!" He casually threw the basketball in his hand toward You's feet. It bounced across the floor with a dull thud.

You slowly turned around, his amber eyes calmly meeting Aomine's aggressive gaze. The mirror practice in deception had been interrupted, but the focus that had sunk into his bones had not faded. He was not angered by the provocation. He merely bent down, picked up the rolling basketball, and felt its familiar rough texture beneath his fingertips.

"Fine." You's voice held no ripples, only that single simple word.

There was no unnecessary talk. The court was quickly cleared. Nijimura Shūzō stood at the sideline with his arms crossed, intense interest written across his rugged face. Akashi Seijūrō had also appeared at some point and stood silently nearby, his Heterochromatic Eyes like cold probes. Murasaki-bara Atsushi chewed on an Umaibo, his purple eyes carrying a hint of bored scrutiny. Midōrima Shintarō pushed up his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses sharp as a surgical knife. Momoi Satsuki hugged her Shorthand Notebook, her cherry-pink eyes astonishingly bright, her pencil hovering over the page like an arrow ready to fly.

The whistle sounded like a spark setting off a fuse!

Aomine launched the attack first! There was no probing at all! Like an enraged bull, his massive body exploded forward with wild power! A pure combination of speed and strength, he barreled toward You's defensive position! He intended to crush the fortress of deception You had painstakingly constructed in the most primitive and violent way possible!

"Bang!" The dull sound of flesh colliding rang out!

You felt an overwhelming force surge straight at him! He lowered his waist and planted his stance, his core muscles tightening like iron! His Roll-off Teique activated at full force! But Aomine's strength was too savage, and You was still knocked half a step backward! His shoes scraped across the floor with a piercing squeal!

Just as the impact forced You's center of gravity slightly backward and his body briefly stiffened, a bloodthirsty excitement flashed through Aomine's eyes! His right hand forcefully pushed the ball forward! The basketball hugged the floor like a cannonball, attempting to pass between You's legs through the gap created by his backward lean! At the same time, Aomine pressed close like a parasite clinging to bone, his huge hand reaching for the ball! He intended to crush both man and ball together!

At the critical moment, You's body, knocked backward, halted its retreat through flexibility in his waist and abdomen beyond reason and the strength of his core! At the same time, his legs snapped together like iron gates, clamping down on the "cannonball" about to pass between them! Simultaneously, his left hand, pressed against Aomine's body, shot out like a venomous snake, his fingertips striking precisely beneath the basketball Aomine had just bounced upward!

"Smack!"

The basketball instantly went out of control!

"A steal!" the sideline shouted.

Aomine felt his hand suddenly empty. He turned back in astonishment, only to see You's silver-gray figure sweep past him like a ghost and snatch up the loose ball! Offense and defense changed in an instant!

"Bastard!" Aomine roared. His dark-blue eyes burned with fury at being toyed with, and his massive body erupted with even more terrifying speed as he instantly caught up like a shadow. The huge shadow descended again! He swore he would tear apart this slippery bastard once and for all!

You advanced while dribbling, not moving particularly fast, as if deliberately controlling the rhythm. He could feel Aomine's murderous aura behind him, erupting like a volcano, along with his hot breath. The instant Aomine was about to close in, You moved!

His upper body suddenly made a huge, exquisitely detailed fake drive toward the front right! His shoulder dropped 25 degrees! His gaze stabbed toward the right like a blade! His left-foot probing step landed perfectly! Three deceptive signals erupted in sync, perfectly reproducing his mirror practice!

Aomine's Wildness First Sense issued a frantic warning! The angle of the shoulder drop, the focus of the eyes, the sign that the foot was about to launch—it was too realistic! His center of gravity was instantly deceived, and his feet unconsciously shifted right to block!

I fell for it again! Alarm bells rang in Aomine's mind as he forcibly twisted his center of gravity back.

Yet at the instant his balance shifted, You's right wrist flicked with astonishing speed, as if it had vanished! The ball traced a bizarre V-shaped path through an incredibly small space, passing impossibly beneath his own legs and into his left hand! At the same time, his body, which had drawn Aomine's center of gravity out of place, used his right foot as an axis and spun rapidly in place, leaving only an afterimage as he attempted to slip past on the left!

Aomine forcibly halted his deceived center of gravity. Relying on his terrifying explosive power, his huge body became a precision gate that instantly sealed the path after You's spin! His dark-blue eyes flashed with a feral grin that said, I've seen through you.

However, halfway through the spin, You suddenly forced himself to stop! His rotating body halted in place through the strength of his core! At the same time, just as his body completely lost balance and seemed about to fall, his left wrist flicked almost imperceptibly, tossing the ball toward the basket!

An off-balance floater! A finishing move completely beyond expectation!

The basketball traced a low, strange arc!

"Swish!" It dropped cleanly through the net!

"1–0!" the referee announced in amazement!

"Whoa—!!" A huge cheer erupted from the sideline! With Aomine's route completely sealed and his body off balance, the floater was filled with the art of deception and creativity under pressure!

Aomine stood where he was, staring at the rolling basketball. His dark-blue eyes were filled with shock and a trace of shame and fury at being completely fooled. His Wildness First Sense had utterly failed before this layered combination of feints and reality—the fake drive deceiving his balance, the spin creating the illusion of a breakthrough, and the off-balance floater finishing the play.

"Again!" Aomine's voice was the growl of an injured beast, carrying even more frenzied fighting spirit.

You calmly picked up the ball. His old back injury stabbed like needles after the violent change of direction and loss of balance, while sweat kept sliding from his forehead. But deep in his amber eyes, the flame called focus burned even more fiercely. The art of the fake was not merely deceiving the eyes, but deceiving the nerves and the instincts!

Possession changed hands. You attacked. Facing Aomine's more violent and cautious pressure defense, he no longer sought to break through in a single step. Instead, he pushed his Rhythm Control to the extreme.

He dribbled slowly at the top of the key, the ball moving quickly and steadily between his legs and behind his back. Suddenly, without warning, the rhythm of his dribbling slowed, and his center of gravity rose slightly with it. His gaze seemed to drift toward a teammate making a run in the distance. An illusion of intending to pass!

Aomine's nerves were instantly tugged by the Rhythm Change! His defensive attention scattered for an extremely brief moment!

At that instant, You's right wrist flicked with astonishing speed like a spirit snake striking its tongue! The ball traced a bizarre arc through a tiny space and somehow passed from behind his own back into his left hand! At the same time, his seemingly relaxed body was like a spring compressed to its limit. Drawing on the explosive power of his ankle joints, he burst toward the front left! One step! With only one step, he used the tiny space created by the change of rhythm to force half his body past Aomine's side!

"A hesitation move?!" Aomine's eyes flashed with astonishment again! This control of alternating fast and slow rhythms had completely disrupted his defensive prediction!

Seeing that he was about to be shaken off, Aomine forcibly twisted his body and unleashed his final burst of wild power. His huge hand carried a howl that tore through the air as it slammed toward the basketball You had just raised!

In midair, You's pupils reflected Aomine's savage face and the enormous palm blotting out the sky! At the critical moment, he did not force the layup! His body bent sharply backward in the air, folding through an incredible Arch Back! His powerful core granted him precious hang time! At the same time, with his body twisted to its limit, his right wrist made an extremely gentle flick, changing the layup into a nearly imperceptible fingertip scoop!

The basketball carried heavy backspin and flew along a low, swift, strange arc, narrowly passing beneath the lower edge of Aomine's huge palm, which had lifted slightly for the full-power block!

"Swish!"

It banked in!

"2–0!"

"Beautiful!" Nijimura could not help cheering. The shot had perfectly combined deception through rhythm, body control, and supreme touch!

Aomine landed and stared fixedly at You, his chest heaving violently and sweat flowing like streams. Anger! Frustration! But more than that was the helplessness of being completely suppressed by the other boy's exquisite technique! His wild strength seemed to have lost its former edge before this precision-instrument-like art of deception!

"Enough." A cold, calm voice rang out from the sideline, carrying the power to pierce through every other sound.

Akashi Seijūrō slowly walked into the center of the court. His Heterochromatic Eyes were like cold probes, ignoring Aomine's unwillingness and locking directly onto Bai Ze You. His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, carrying lofty scrutiny and unquestionable authority.

"Your fake has a Deception Level of B+."

"The details are passable. The Rhythm Change barely qualifies."

"But your intent is too obvious."

"The body's advance signals... you rely too heavily on the inertia of muscle memory."

"Against a true 'eye,' your phantom... is utterly powerless."

The cold words were the sharpest dissection knife, precisely cutting open the deception technique You took pride in and exposing its flaws under the full light of day. His intent was obvious? His advance signals relied on inertia? Powerless before a true eye? Every word drove a cold needle into You's heart!

You's body instantly tensed. His amber pupils contracted violently. The pain in his back seemed to be ignited by those cold words. Akashi's heterochromatic eyes seemed to pierce through his flesh and bones, directly spying on the deepest flaw in his movement patterns—one even he had never clearly recognized. The icy feeling of being completely seen through and mercilessly denied swept over him like a cold current.

The atmosphere at the sideline instantly dropped to freezing point. Aomine wore a gloating sneer. Murasbara yawned. Midori pushed up his glasses, the gaze behind the lenses still cold. Nijimura's brows were tightly furrowed. Momoi Satsuki's cherry-pink eyes were full of worry, and the pencil in her hand unconsciously jabbed into her Shorthand Notebook, leaving a deep ink mark.

Akashi ignored everyone's reactions. His heterochromatic eyes were like cold mirrors, clearly reflecting the shock, frustration, and wounded pride churning in You's eyes. He slowly raised a hand and pointed at You, his voice like the final judgment.

"Do it again."

"Use your strongest fake."

"Attack me."

"Let me see whether your 'deception' can fool these eyes."

It was a challenge from the future emperor of Teikō, a naked ultimate challenge concerning the core ability of the phantom! The air seemed to solidify into steel, heavy enough to suffocate. Everyone's eyes focused on the two opposing figures in the center of the court.

You took a deep breath. The hot air stung his lungs and pressed down on his turbulent emotions. The pain in his back, Akashi's cold evaluation, Aomine's gloating gaze—all distracting thoughts were forcibly cast aside. Deep in his amber eyes, his wounded pride and refusal to lose were compressed into an almost frozen, absolute focus. He slowly lowered his center of gravity. The basketball bounced steadily between his palm and the floor, making heavy, oppressive thuds that seemed to beat against everyone's hearts.

He moved!

You's upper body suddenly made a huge, exquisitely detailed fake drive toward the front left! His shoulder dropped 25 degrees! His gaze stabbed toward the left like a blade! His left-foot probing step landed perfectly! Three deceptive signals erupted in sync! Perfect! Fluid! Flawless! This was the highest-level fake he could produce at present!

However!

Just before You's center of gravity began shifting left with the fake drive, at the extremely subtle critical point when his muscle groups were about to erupt with force—even before his nerves issued the final command—

Akashi moved!

His movement had no warning at all, as though a frame of time had been stolen from him! His center of gravity slid instantly toward the front right like a ghost. His ball-controlling right wrist exploded forward at an angle! The basketball hugged the floor like a precise scalpel, instantly tearing through the fleeting defensive gap before You's center of gravity, displaced by the fake, could recover! At the same time, his body swept past You's right side like a red phantom at a speed beyond visual capture!

Fast! Precise! Ruthless! His timing was accurate to the slightest degree! He had seized the lethal instant when his opponent's intent had formed but his strength had not yet fully erupted, as if he had predicted the signal in You's neural reflex arc and cut off its transmission in advance!

You's vision blurred, and Akashi's crimson figure had already appeared behind him as if by teleportation! He turned with all his strength to chase and defend, but Akashi had already leaped effortlessly, flicked his wrist gently, and sent the basketball along a beautiful arc into the net.

Dead silence.

Absolute silence descended over the Teikō First Team Training Hall.

You stood where he was, breathing heavily, sweat flowing like streams from his forehead and chin. The pain in his back burned like fire after the violent turn, but he seemed unable to feel it. His amber eyes stared at the basketball still spinning faintly in the hoop before slowly shifting toward the crimson figure standing motionless at the sideline as if nothing had happened. Akashi's words were cold brands carved clearly into his mind—Your intent is too obvious! The body's advance signals... you rely too heavily on the inertia of muscle memory!

The art of deception he had taken pride in had been dissected into fragments before Akashi's heterochromatic eyes, which saw through everything like the Eyes of the Heavenly Emperor. It appeared so pale and powerless!

"Bai Ze-kun!" Momoi Satsuki's worried voice broke the silence. Hugging her Shorthand Notebook, she hurried to You's side. Her cherry-pink eyes were filled with concern and a trace of barely perceptible anxiety. "Your back..."

You seemed not to hear her. He slowly bent down and picked up the basketball rolling across the floor. The familiar rough texture beneath his fingertips now carried a heavy, unprecedented weight. He did not look at Momoi or anyone else. He merely walked silently to the sideline, picked up a towel, and forcefully wiped the sweat from his face—and that indescribable trace of defeat. Deep in his amber eyes churned frustration, confusion, and a far more blazing desire to investigate, one that had been completely ignited.

Akashi's cold words and that perfectly timed steal were like the cruelest mentor. They opened a door for him to a higher hall of the art of deception, while also letting him clearly see the bottomless abyss beneath his feet.

"Momoi," You's voice was slightly hoarse from exertion, but unusually clear. "Just now... before Akashi made that steal... did my movements show any flaws in the data?"

Momoi froze for a moment, then immediately understood what You meant. She quickly flipped open the Shorthand Notebook in her arms. Her cherry-pink eyes swept through the dense data and diagrams like the most precise scanners. A few seconds later, her finger stopped on a page containing a rough diagram and a line of tiny notes, and her eyes instantly lit up!

"Here!" Her voice was filled with the excitement of discovering a new continent as she turned the notebook toward You. "Look, Bai Ze-kun! About 0.2 seconds before you started the fake drive, your breathing rhythm showed an extremely subtle breath-hold that didn't fit a normal movement pattern! The abnormality only lasted 0.1 seconds! And there's more! When your left shoulder began to drop, the peak tension in the upper trapezius appeared about 0.05 seconds earlier than in a normal power movement! It was incredibly, incredibly slight! But under high-speed photography and the analysis model..." She pointed at the frame-by-frame movement breakdowns and muscle-tension curves beside it, explaining at lightning speed. "Those tiny physiological signals and instances of premature muscle activation may have been the flaw that leaked your 'intent' before someone with Captain Akashi's level of observation and calculation!"

Breathing rhythm! Premature muscle activation!

You's pupils suddenly contracted, like lightning abruptly flaring in the darkness! Momoi's precise data analysis was the clearest mirror, reflecting minute flaws buried in the deepest layers of his muscle memory and neural reflexes—flaws even he had never noticed. In Akashi's eyes, which pierced through everything, they were no different from bright lamps in the night!

He took Momoi's Shorthand Notebook and stared fixedly at the magnified and annotated abnormalities. The pain in his back seemed to be completely suppressed by a stronger force at that moment. A sudden realization, mixed with intense excitement and even heavier pressure, swept over him!

"So... that's how it is..." You muttered, his fingertip unconsciously touching the marks labeled "abnormal breathing" and "early muscle-tension peak." The art of the fake, the starting point of deception, was far deeper and harsher than he had imagined! It demanded not only Absolute Control over body posture and the eyes, but also perfect concealment of breathing, the slightest signals of muscle exertion, and even subconscious intent! A difference of millimeters could mean the difference between heaven and earth!

He slowly raised his head. His gaze passed through the bright lights of the gym, as if piercing through the walls and seeing the harsher challenges ahead. Deep in his amber eyes, the confidence Akashi had shattered had not vanished. Supported by data and reason, it had instead gathered again into a more restrained, more resilient, and more fervent flame!

The phantom's dance steps would not stop beneath the emperor's scrutiny. The art of deception had only just unveiled its deepest veil. On the road to the summit, every fall and every time he was seen through would become the starting point for an even more perfect phantom. Bai Ze You clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening slightly from the force. He knew that his true cultivation in "deception" had only now begun.