Kawamura stood at the edge of the court, his gaze cutting through the crowd and landing on three towering figures.
"They're seriously tall…" he muttered, shaking his head slightly, his tone a mix of envy and helplessness. He knew exactly what that kind of height meant in basketball.
"Yeah, you can only truly feel the pressure when you see them up close" Moyun nodded in agreement. His eyes swept over the three giants before settling on Himuro — the player he'd be matched up against this game.
Almost as if sensing his gaze, Himuro turned toward Moyun and gave him a small nod. Their eyes locked, a silent spark of competition igniting between them.
No words were needed. The battle had already begun.
"I still can't believe Murasakibara's grown to 208 cm" Nijimura sighed. He clearly remembered the days back at Teikō when Murasakibara was still under two meters. A few years had passed, and the difference was staggering.
BEEP!
"The match between Fukui High and Yōsen High is about to begin!"
The referee's whistle cut through the noise of the gym, instantly silencing the buzzing crowd. A tense yet electrifying atmosphere filled the air.
Both teams quickly took their positions, and the center jump was about to take place—Ren, Fukui's center against Murasakibara.
Staring up at his opponent, Ren felt like crying inside. Of all the people to go up against… why did it have to be a generational big man?
Still, despite the unfair matchup, he steeled himself. He wasn't expecting to win the tip-off, but at the very least, he had to make things difficult for Murasakibara.
Murasakibara, as always, wore a lazy expression, looking completely uninterested in everything around him. He didn't even see Ren as an obstacle—his body language exuded nothing but confidence and indifference.
The referee glanced at both players before tossing the ball high into the air. The orange sphere spun as it reached its peak, capturing the attention of everyone in the gym.
Murasakibara and Ren leaped simultaneously, but Murasakibara's insane vertical made it clear who had the advantage.
Whoosh!
Before Ren could even react, Murasakibara had already reached the ball with ease. His sheer athleticism was overwhelming.
Without wasting a second, he swatted the ball toward Fukui, who caught it cleanly and immediately launched into the offense.
"BEEP! Jump ball violation! Fukui High's possession!"
The referee's call rang out a beat late—he was so stunned by Murasakibara's unreal bounce that he hesitated before blowing the whistle.
"Again?!" Araki sighed from the sidelines, rubbing her forehead in frustration. She had seen this happen way too many times before.
The Yōsen players chuckled to themselves. None of them looked surprised.
Murasakibara clicked his tongue in mild annoyance before jogging back on defense, his expression still as uninterested as ever. He didn't seem to care at all about the violation.
However, the entire gym had fallen into stunned silence.
Fukui's players were in complete disbelief, and the crowd was left slack-jawed. Murasakibara's sheer dominance had rattled everyone.
"That's just… terrifying."
Kawamura's eyes widened in shock. He could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.
"His bounce is even better than three years ago… this is insane."
"His physical gifts are on another level" Moyun muttered in awe. He realized just how difficult it would be to score in the paint against Yōsen.
Meanwhile, Nijimura remained calm. Having been a part of Teikō's basketball team, he had already braced himself for the terrifying growth of the Generation of Miracles.
Shiro, however, stood calmly beyond the three-point line, completely unfazed.
Unlike the others, he wasn't intimidated by Murasakibara's display. If anything, a faint gleam of challenge flickered in his eyes.
This kind of absolute dominance in the paint only made Shiro more eager to test Murasakibara's limits.
Suddenly, he raised his hand and signaled for the ball, surprising Kawamura.
"Since when does Shiro ask for the ball this early in the game?"
But there was no hesitation. Kawamura immediately passed it to him.
After all, Shiro was their ace—their most reliable player.
As soon as the ball landed in his hands, Liu quickly stepped up on defense.
Staring down at Shiro, who was a full 8 cm shorter, Liu couldn't help but think: "There's no way he's getting past me, right?"
Yet, just as the thought crossed his mind, Shiro disappeared.
"What?!"
Liu barely had time to turn his head before he realized Shiro had already blown past him, cutting straight into the paint.
His speed was absurd — Liu hadn't even registered his movement before he was already behind him.
Himuro watched from the side, his sharp eyes locked onto Shiro's every move.
"I couldn't even track him with my eyes…"
Shiro, now deep in the lane, didn't slow down. Instead, he smoothly transitioned into a fadeaway jumper, his body arching gracefully as he released the ball.
The shot had perfect form, the ball drawing a clean arc toward the hoop.
But just as it neared the peak of its flight, a towering shadow lunged in from the weak side.
Murasakibara.
His massive arm stretched out, swatting the ball out of bounds with brutal force.
SMACK!
The sound of the block echoed through the gym.
Shiro landed, locking eyes with Murasakibara. The towering center seemed a little surprised—Shiro looked so… fragile.
But Murasakibara quickly shook his head. That was a dangerous thought. Shiro was no ordinary player—he was a monster in his own right.
Meanwhile, the crowd reacted with mixed emotions.
"What the hell?! He got blocked on the first possession?"
"Yeah, I knew it. Shiro is overrated. The media hypes him up too much."
A sharp glint flickered in Shiro's eyes.
Murasakibara had improved a lot.
But to Shiro, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.