Akagiri's Chess Game (I)

On the other side, Tu Chun's gaze closely followed the backs of Ryonan's players as they disappeared into the players' tunnel. His brows furrowed slightly, and an inescapable gloom clouded his expression.

They had clearly given it their all, turning a ten-point deficit into a tight game with only a three-point gap. That should have been encouraging, yet as he looked at the overly calm faces of Chi Tong and the Ryonan players, it felt as though something were clutching at his heart, and an inexplicable unease kept spreading.

Am I overthinking this?

Tu Chun muttered to himself over and over, unconsciously clenching his palm as he tried to suppress the baseless anxiety.

Perhaps Ryonan was merely putting on a calm front. Perhaps they were also frustrated by their defensive lapse in the final moments, only they were not showing it.

He tried hard to convince himself with those reasons, but the unease refused to fade.

In stark contrast to Tu Wuchen's solemnity, Daiei's other players were relaxed. A three-point gap was practically nothing in a game; no one could say who would win or lose yet. Everything depended on the second half.

The clicking of cameras in the press area gradually died down along with the halftime whistle. Xiangtian Miesheng lowered her camera and rubbed her slightly aching wrist, but an unshakable look of confusion appeared on her face.

As a reporter who had covered basketball games for years, she had seen countless clashes between strong teams. Yet today's game between Ryonan and Daiei left her unable to see through it.

Ryonan clearly seemed not to be going all out, leaving room in both offense and defense, yet they were not exactly holding back either. Their scoring and defense in crucial moments remained terrifyingly steady.

What exactly was going