The basket drew ever closer, but Sendoh's gaze remained calm, without a trace of impatience.
His eyes stayed fixed beneath the basket while his peripheral vision tracked the defenders around him, his mind racing to decide his next move.
As he reached the free-throw line, a familiar towering figure stood firmly beneath the hoop. It was Mori Zhongkuan.
He remained as steady as a mountain, his massive frame an impenetrable wall guarding the basket behind him, leaving not even the smallest opening.
As Sendoh charged toward him, Sun Zhongkuan's dark eyes betrayed no emotion. He merely raised his chin slightly, a barely perceptible scrutiny in his gaze, as though sizing up the opponent before him.
Sendoh's lucky basket last time was still fresh in his memory. This time, he was clearly better prepared.
Sendoh did not slow his steps in the slightest. Carrying the ball and his momentum forward, he reached Sun Zhongkuan in an instant.
Only a meter separated them. The air beneath the basket seemed to tighten all at once, making even breathing feel heavy.
Sento planted his feet with the ball in hand, raising it above his shoulder in his right hand, his elbow slightly bent and his fingertips gripping its surface firmly.
His gaze was sharp as a blade as it swept over Morishige Hiroshi's arms, knees, and positioning, searching for a crack in that towering defense.
Morishige Hiroshi remained utterly motionless, like a tower cast from iron. His arms spread like iron bars, palms facing down, covering almost every inch of space before him. His dark eyes locked onto the basketball in Sento's hands, even his blinks becoming unusually slow. Every muscle was taut, its contours clearly visible beneath his skin, radiating a coiled strength that seemed ready to erupt into a devastating block at