Ishikawa Kaito just couldn't make a shot.
He'd usually hit nearly 70% of his mid-range shots, but today he'd managed an ugly 1-for-7 from mid-range.
It was driving him crazy.
With seven seconds left in the first quarter, the score had already reached 33–14.
The Kings were up by 19.
Ishikawa Kaito still had one last chance to score before the buzzer.
After getting the ball, he started sizing up his defender with a series of probing steps.
With two seconds left on the clock, he faked a pull-up jumper.
The fake sent Wang Yi into the air, and Ishikawa Kaito drove past him and into the paint.
The Kings' big men, Bond and Tures, had both already left the floor. Only two backup big men remained, and they lacked the experience to keep up with Ishikawa Kaito.
Seeing this, Wang Yi landed and hurriedly turned to chase him from behind.
He knew he couldn't block the shot now, or even bother Ishikawa Kaito.
But he still gave chase with all he had.
Ishikawa Kaito, who was normally so reliable from mid-range, had gone just 1-for-7 in the first quarter. He was on the verge of losing it. Now, with the final possession and no one guarding him, he leaped high.
He shouted, "Die—!"
Then he raised the ball high in his right hand and cocked it behind his shoulder, like drawing a bow.
He was going for a ferocious dunk.
The next moment, with his forearm already above the rim, he put everything he had into slamming the ball down toward the basket.
He wanted to unleash all his frustration from the first quarter on that shot.
"Ah—!"
With a roar like a slaughtered pig, he hurled the ball toward the rim.
Clang—
A deafening bang rang out, and