The Tilting Balance of the Game (2)

In the stands, everyone from Shohoku had their eyes widened to the limit.

Sakuragi Hanamichi's eyes were round as saucers, and even his signature red hair seemed to be standing on end.

Oh, no, that wasn't right. He no longer had long hair. He had cut it after the match against Hainan, and now he only had a crew cut.

He cried out, "Hey, hey, hey! This is way too ridiculous!"

"How did he know Mu Shenyi was going to break through from that side?!"

Gongcheng Liangtian's face was filled with incredulous shock. "This game is insane. In that situation, there was no way to determine the opponent's intentions, right?"

As a point guard, he understood better than anyone how sudden pick-and-roll plays could be. The timing of a screen, the direction of Maki Shinichi's drive—those were all decisions made in an instant. Forget predicting them beforehand; even reacting in time was difficult. Yet Chi Tong had seized the moment for the steal as precisely as if he had read the script in advance.

Mumu Gongyan pushed up his glasses. His gaze behind the lenses was exceptionally grave, his brow tightly furrowed as he said, "It's that bad feeling again. That guy really seems capable of predicting the future."

"Predicting the future..."

Mitsui Hisashi leaned back in his seat, his unblinking eyes fixed on the crimson figure on the court, his tone carrying a trace of complicated emotion.

He could not help wondering: if he had been in Maki Shinichi's position just now, could he have avoided that steal against such defense?

The answer was probably no.

Rukawa sat beside him with his legs crossed. He still looked casual, but his slightly narrowed eyes betrayed the unrest in his heart.

He stared at Chi Tong's positioning, rapidly replaying the steal