Things Were That Simple (1)

Fujima Kenji continued, "We're one of Kanagawa's top teams. Are we really going to bow our heads and admit defeat just because we're temporarily behind?"

"We won't admit defeat!"

The Shoyo players shouted almost in unison, their voices stripped of their earlier dejection.

"That's right, we'll never admit defeat!"

A flicker of relief passed through Fujima Kenji's eyes, and his tone grew even firmer. "Next, slow down the pace. Don't rush to make up the score. Play steadily, score one good basket at a time, and show everyone that we, Shoyo, are the strongest!"

"The strongest!"

Another unified roar echoed across the entire Shoyo bench.

This time, their voices were loud and powerful. The slump that had previously hung over the Shoyo players was completely swept away, and every pair of eyes was filled with determination.

When the Ryonan players walked off the court, there was not a trace of boastful joy on their faces. Everyone wore an unusually calm expression, as though leading Shoyo by thirteen points was merely an ordinary part of the game. In the past, they would never have been so composed.

But that did not mean they felt no joy. In truth, they were extremely happy. No one could remain unmoved after suppressing a long-established Kanagawa powerhouse to such an extent.

It was just that, from the start of the game until now, they had always moved according to Chi Tong's rhythm. When to box out on defense, when to anticipate a steal, when to launch a fast break—every step felt like a rehearsed script.

Their current advantage was not the result of a sudden outburst, but of Chi Tong's precise planning.

From studying Shoyo's tactics before the game and predicting their movements to adjusting defensive strategies based on the situation on the court, every