Surrender, Your Defense Is Meaningless!

When Kaede Rukawa's wide-open three-pointer swished through the net, Mitsuyoshi Taoka felt as though an invisible hand had seized his heart in a vicious grip.

It hurt.

It hurt so much that he could barely breathe.

He stared blankly at the court, at the white-haired boy who had pinned Akira Sendoh in place, yet casually torn apart Taoka's prized "Box-and-one" tactic with a single effortless pass.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

It was over.

Everything was over.

He had thought he had found the only way to deal with that monster—a war of attrition.

He had thought that as long as he used Sendoh as a trade piece to limit Number 1's individual offense, he could drag the game into Ryonan's familiar rhythm.

However, he was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

He had been wrong from the very beginning.

What made Number 1 truly terrifying was never his unfathomable individual scoring ability.

It was his terrifying court vision, enough to control the entire game and toy with every opponent in the palm of his hand!

When Taoka focused all his attention on that one person—

Shohoku's other players became the deadliest weapons for finishing the game.

Kaede Rukawa's isolation plays.

Akagi's interior dominance.

Miyagi's speed.

Even that bespectacled guy's spot-up shooting.

With Number 1 connecting them all, every one of them had become an unstoppable killing move.

For the first time, Coach Taoka understood what it meant to be utterly helpless.

He felt like a self-righteous fool, toyed with from beginning to end by that smiling, chubby white coach on the other side and that lazy white-haired brat.

"Coach..."

The assistant coach beside him asked in a trembling voice, "Are we... still going to keep using this tactic?"

Taoka did not answer.

He merely slumped weakly into his chair and closed his eyes.

Keep going?

How could they keep going?

Every tactic he had, every trump card, had already been ripped to shreds by the other side.

There was no longer any suspense in this game.

On the court, Ryonan's players had fallen into the same despair.

Akira Sendoh looked at Shirakawa, who was celebrating with a high-five from Kaede Rukawa, and his eyes became utterly dim.

He had given everything he had, sticking to that man like a clown, using all his strength to guard him, harass him, and wear him down.

And what had it amounted to?

That guy had never even intended to score himself.

One pass had turned all of Sendoh's effort into a joke.

He felt like Sun Wukong—no matter how he struggled, he could never escape the palm of the Tathagata Buddha.

That sense of powerlessness, that crushing frustration, nearly made him want to give up on the game right then and there.

"It's not over yet! The game isn't over yet!"

Jun Uozumi, a man built like an iron tower, was still desperately roaring in his hoarse voice.

"Defense! Get your heads in the game and defend!"

"Offense! Put the ball in!"

However, his roar seemed so pale and powerless against Shohoku's tidal-wave offense.

Over the next few minutes, the game completely turned into a one-sided slaughter.

Shohoku attacked.

Shirakawa was still tightly marked by Sendoh.

But he did not care in the slightest.

Like a master chess player, he strolled calmly across the court, directing his pieces.

"Captain Akagi, left side!"

Before his words had even faded, he fired a precise bounce pass. The basketball passed through Uozumi's legs and landed steadily in the hands of the cutting Akagi.

With a roar, Akagi threw down a thunderous two-handed dunk over the rotating Fukuda!

49:37!

"Miyagi, run!"

Shirakawa grabbed the defensive rebound and, without even looking, launched an ultra-long quarterback-style pass!

The basketball sailed across the entire court and landed precisely in the hands of Ryota Miyagi, who had already sprinted into the frontcourt!

Miyagi caught the ball with no one in front of him and easily laid it in!

51:37!

"Sakuragi! Jump!"

On one possession, Kaede Rukawa's shot missed.

Just as Uozumi was about to secure the rebound, Shirakawa's voice suddenly rang out.

Hanamichi Sakuragi, the red-haired kid everyone had forgotten, sprang high into the air from behind Uozumi like a coiled spring!

His terrifying leaping ability was displayed in full at that moment!

"Rebound King—Sakuragi!"

In midair, Sakuragi clutched the ball tightly to his chest, then, before landing, tipped it back out to the perimeter.

There, Shirakawa had already been waiting for a long time.

Sendoh's heart instantly leaped into his throat!

He was going to shoot again!

Without a second thought, Sendoh threw his entire body forward, trying to block the shot!

However, Shirakawa merely smiled faintly, raised the ball high, then gently moved it to the side.

"Kogure."

In the corner, the bespectacled man everyone had continued to overlook once again received a perfect wide-open shooting opportunity.

Kiminobu Kogure took a deep breath. He knew this was Shirakawa's trust in him.

He could not let that trust down!

He rose and released.

The basketball traced an arc through the air, carrying the hopes of everyone on Shohoku.

Swish!

Another three-pointer!

54:37!

The gap had already reached seventeen points!

The entire Ryonan Gymnasium fell silent.

The spectators who had been wildly cheering for the home team just moments ago now looked like ducks with their necks strangled, all of them with their mouths hanging open, unable to say a word.

All they could do was watch as Shohoku's players, led by Number 1, played basketball with the flowing grace of clouds and the unstoppable force of spilled mercury—the pinnacle of team basketball.

All they could do was watch their team's ace get toyed with like a headless fly.

All they could do was watch—

helplessly as the gap on the scoreboard was mercilessly widened bit by bit.

"Surrender."

Shirakawa walked up to the completely dazed Sendoh, spread his hands, and wore an expression that said, "I'm already tired of playing."

"Your defense is meaningless to me."

"This game is over."