Controlling the Whole Game, the Invisible Conductor!

The next few minutes turned the game into a personal show for Kaede Rukawa and Akira Sendoh.

They traded blows, tit for tat.

Sendoh had just used an elegant body-switch layup to evade Akagi's block and score two points.

Kaede Rukawa immediately fired back on the next possession with an equally difficult pull-up jumper, shooting right over two defenders.

Sendoh drove and kicked out, assisting Uozumi on a hard interior post-up against Akagi.

Kaede Rukawa immediately stole the ball on the counterattack, going coast-to-coast to the rim and drawing a foul from the Ryonan player, sinking both free throws.

Both of them had murder in their eyes, entering a state close to the ZONE. They saw only each other and the basket, completely throwing the words "team basketball" to the winds.

The spectators on the sidelines were captivated, cheers and screams rising in waves.

"So brilliant! Is this really a high school game?"

"Sendoh and Kaede Rukawa, who is actually stronger? It's impossible to tell!"

"Is this a duel between geniuses? The others are simply not in the same dimension as them!"

Mitsuyoshi Taoka, Ryonan's coach, was even more ecstatic as he watched.

"Play! Play! Kaede Rukawa! Just indulge in your one-on-one play all you want!"

He shouted excitedly in his heart.

The flow of the game was proceeding entirely according to his prearranged script.

Kaede Rukawa had fallen into a one-on-one battle with Sendoh, completely drifting away from Shohoku's tactical system.

Consequently, Shohoku was effectively playing four-on-five.

Although the score was still close for now, as the game progressed, Kaede Rukawa's stamina would inevitably drop. When that time came, it would be the moment for Ryonan to sweep the game away with a scoring run!

Perfect!

Coach Taoka felt that he was simply a tactical master who orchestrated strategies from behind the scenes!

However, what he failed to notice was that on the Shohoku bench, Coach Anzai was looking at him with a cheerful smile—a gaze that looked just like he was watching... well, a clever child.

He noticed even less that on the court, the number 1 white-haired boy who should have been the point guard was currently "strolling" across the floor like a ghost.

Shirakawa was indeed strolling.

When Kaede Rukawa and Sendoh began their god-tier clash, he very consciously retreated to the second line and acted as the most loyal spectator in the house.

He dribbled the ball across half-court, handed it to Kaede Rukawa, and then trotted off to find an unguarded corner and start watching the show.

On defense, he only symbolically followed his own man, neither playing tight defense nor attempting steals, relying mainly on "eyeball defense."

This made Tomoyuki Uekusa, who was assigned to guard him, feel incomparably aggrieved.

He felt like an idiot, running back and forth across the court following someone who was also acting like an idiot.

"Hey! You guy! Do you even know how to play basketball?" Tomoyuki Uekusa finally couldn't hold back, growling at Shirakawa during a dead ball.

"I do." Shirakawa looked at him with an innocent face. "See? Aren't I playing?"

Tomoyuki Uekusa was choked up to the point where he almost lost his breath.

You call this playing basketball?

You're clearly just coasting!

Shirakawa certainly wasn't coasting; he was simply controlling the game in his own way.

Although he had temporarily yielded the stage to Kaede Rukawa and Sendoh, this didn't mean he had lost control of the court.

His eyes, like high-precision cameras, recorded everything happening on the floor.

Every one of Sendoh's drives—whether he preferred to go left or right.

Every box-out by Uozumi—whether his center of gravity leaned forward or backward.

That newly substituted guy from Ryonan named Fukuda didn't seem good at shooting and only knew how to cut...

All the data was rapidly analyzed, sorted, and categorized in his mind.

He was making the fullest preparations for the "harvest" in the second half.

At the same time, he was influencing his teammates in an invisible way.

Once, Ryonan's reserve forward, Fukuda Kiccho, used a brilliant off-ball run to shake off his defender, cutting to the basket for an open look after receiving a pass from Sendoh, appearing ready to score an easy layup.

"Captain Akagi, behind you!"

Shirakawa's voice suddenly rang out on the court—not loud, but exceptionally clear.

Akagi, who was boxing out Uozumi, felt a shock in his heart upon hearing this and reacted almost instinctively: he spun and jumped!

"Slap!"

Fukuda Kiccho's sure-fire layup was swatted fiercely out of bounds by Akagi with a heavy, volleyball-style spike!

"Whoa!"

An exclamation burst from the entire crowd!

Fukuda Kiccho stared dumbfounded at his own hands; he never expected Akagi to appear from that angle and at that exact moment!

He was like... he had eyes in the back of his head!

Only Akagi knew that ninety percent of the credit for this block belonged to Shirakawa's timely warning.

He glanced back at Shirakawa, his eyes filled with gratitude.

Shirakawa just smiled at him and mouthed the words, "No big deal."

Another time, Ryota Miyagi was shaken off by a Ryonan guard using a pump fake on the defensive end, and his opponent was about to secure an easy layup.

"Miyagi-senpai, turn around!"

Shirakawa's voice rang out once more.

Without a second thought, Miyagi slammed on the brakes, spun around, and thrust out his arm.

The basketball seemed to deliver itself right to him as he firmly intercepted it!

"Holy crap!" Miyagi was shocked himself.

He looked at the basketball in his hands and then glanced at Shirakawa in the distance, a raging storm churning in his heart.

This guy... is he a monster?

How did he know the opponent was going to pass in that direction?

Could he possibly predict the future?

Just like that, for the remainder of the first half, Shirakawa barely initiated an offense himself even once.

Yet, like an all-knowing prophet, he used his unfathomable "command" time and time again to help Shohoku defuse Ryonan's wave after wave of sharp attacks.

After experiencing their initial shock, the Shohoku players gradually grew accustomed to this style of play.

They even began to look forward to hearing that lazy yet utterly reliable voice whenever they lost their defensive positioning.

With Shirakawa around, they felt their backs were completely safe.

The tempo of the game proceeded in this bizarre atmosphere.

On the surface, it was an ace duel between Kaede Rukawa and Sendoh.

In reality, however, Shirakawa, the invisible conductor, was controlling the situation across the entire floor.

Led by Sendoh, the Ryonan team's attacks came in tides, yet they were consistently unable to pull away on the scoreboard.

Whenever they felt like building momentum, it would invariably be abruptly cut short by a bizarre steal or an unimaginable block from Shohoku.

This feeling filled the Ryonan players with an indescribable grievance.

They felt as though they were playing against a monster with telepathy.

"Beep—!"

The whistle signaling the end of the first half finally sounded.

The score was 32:30.

Shohoku entered the second half leading with a slim two-point advantage.

Coach Taoka furrowed his brow tightly as he looked at the score.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Why?

Why were they still behind when Kaede Rukawa was clearly locked down by Sendoh, and the rest of Shohoku's players had performed ordinarily?

Where... exactly was the problem?

His gaze swept across the Shohoku players one by one.

Finally, it locked onto the number 1 white-haired boy who was wiping away sweat with a towel, wearing an easygoing expression.

Could it be... him?