Ryonan vs. Jousei (2)

That smile was faint, yet it carried an undisguised chill. There was no softness of guilt, nor the slightest hesitation—only absolute confidence in his own beliefs, like an ice-tempered blade lightly slicing through the room's silence.

At that moment, the cult seemed more like an affirmation of its own ideals.

The next day, Ryonan faced a new battle.

Today was Ryonan's third game in the National Tournament.

Ryonan's opponent was Nagashiro High School. Everyone was brimming with excitement and fighting spirit, as though victory was already in their grasp.

It all stemmed from Chi Tong's detailed analysis yesterday. He had thoroughly broken down every Nagashiro player's technical traits, habitual movements, offensive and defensive weaknesses. He had even accurately predicted their usual and potential tactical combinations, putting everyone's minds at ease.

Chi Tong stood at the very front of the team, tall and straight.

His expression was as still as an ancient well, his gaze calmly sweeping over every player.

No one could see from his current demeanor the ruthlessness and icy indifference he had shown yesterday on the streets of Hiroshima, when he had stabbed a thug's eye blind with a fountain pen.

Hiroshima Central Gymnasium, Nagashiro's locker room.

A grave atmosphere filled the locker room.

The lights were not especially bright, yet they cast every Nagashiro player's figure into sharp relief.

Dressed in matching blue uniforms, they stood neatly in a row, backs straight and hands hanging naturally at their sides. Their focused gazes fixed on the front, like soldiers about to march into battle, their entire bodies taut with the tension of war.

Tamakoshiba stood at the far left of the line. As Nagashiro's core player, he understood better than anyone how important this game was.

Their opponent, Ryonan, was the biggest dark horse of this year's National