The second half was several times more intense than the first.

As Gu Jin received a pass from beyond the three-point line, James's massive body and Mike Okita's agile footwork converged on him simultaneously. With one on his left and one on his right, they virtually sealed off all possible breakthrough routes.

"The paint is this open?" Gu Jin's voice, carrying a hint of mockery, slipped through the defensive gap. "Do you think Uozumi and Sakuragi are easy to bully?"

Before his words even finished, he suddenly raised his hand, and the basketball was thrown high towards the hoop. The arc was both high and steep, almost skimming the top edge of the backboard.

The audience immediately erupted in an uproar.

"Is he trying to shoot?" Someone rubbed their eyes, their face full of disbelief.

"No... it looks like an alley-oop?" A nearby fan speculated.

"An alley-oop? Impossible!" Someone immediately retorted. "That height is too ridiculous; who could jump that high to catch it?"

However, before the doubts could dissipate, a red-haired figure suddenly soared from within the restricted area!

Whoa—!

The roar of the crowd's exclamations instantly blew the roof off!

It was Sakuragi Hanamichi! Like a spring compressed to its limit, he suddenly extended his body, rising to an astonishing height in the air, his head almost level with the hoop. His right hand steadily caught the seemingly impossible high lob.

"He... he actually jumped that high?!" The commentator's voice trembled.

The next second, Sakuragi abruptly tightened his core in mid-air, and his right arm slammed downwards—

"Bang!"

He forcefully dunked the basketball into the hoop, which let out a pained groan, and the entire backboard shook violently!

Alley-oop, dunk for a score!

51:36.

As Sakuragi landed, he excitedly pounded his chest and grinned broadly at Gu Jin, revealing two rows of white teeth: "How was that? The genius's jump, was it enough to catch your pass!"

Gu Jin gave him a thumbs-up through the double-team defense, his peripheral vision catching the stunned expressions of James and Mike Okita. He sneered internally—want to double-team? Then let me show you how terrifying Ryonan's inside players are.

On the stands, Taoka Moichi slapped his thigh hard and shouted to Hikoichi beside him: "See that! That's chemistry! Sakuragi's jump, it's a miracle!"

Hikoichi quickly wrote in his notebook: "Sakuragi, astonishing alley-oop dunk, jumping ability beyond human limits!" After writing, he felt it wasn't enough and heavily drew three exclamation marks after it.

On Ryokufu's bench, Coach Coleman's face was as dark as a brewing storm.

He had calculated that Gu Jin would pass, but he hadn't accounted for Sakuragi being able to jump to such a height—this red-haired rookie always brought unexpected trouble.

Sato stood in place, clenching his fists, watching Sakuragi's arrogant celebration. He suddenly felt a tightness in his throat.

He knew that the scales of this game had completely tipped towards Ryonan.

During Ryokufu's offensive possession, Sato's eyes were exceptionally sharp as he dribbled forward.

Sakuragi's earlier soaring dunk was like a thorn in his heart. He suddenly waved, signaling Mike Okita to move into position, while he himself accelerated towards the restricted area.

"We can do the same trick!" Sato growled, and the moment Uozumi came to defend, he flicked his wrist, tossing the ball high towards the hoop—he deliberately mimicked Gu Jin's pass height, even going a bit higher.

Mike Okita shot out like an arrow from a bowstring. As he leaped, his right arm was already raised high, and the Ryokufu fans in the stands were already preparing to cheer.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the basketball, a red-haired figure suddenly rose from diagonally behind him, like a barrier appearing out of thin air!

"It's Sakuragi Hanamichi again!" The commentator's voice suddenly rose.

Sakuragi's jump was a split second later than Mike's, but with his more astonishing jumping speed, he overtook him. His long arm stretched across the air like an iron gate. "Bang!" With a crisp sound, he solidly smacked the basketball away. Mike Okita even lost his balance from the force and fell heavily to the ground.

The basketball bounced off Na Takamitsu's leg and out of bounds, giving Ryonan Team possession.

Sakuragi landed steadily, then lifted his chin at Sato, an arrogant curve spreading across his lips: "Want to learn? Ask this genius first!"

Sato stood in place, watching Sakuragi's dazzling red hair, his fingers clenched into tight fists.

That pass just now was almost identical to Ryonan's trajectory, yet it was somehow intercepted by this red-haired monster—he finally understood that some talents couldn't be replicated by mere imitation.

On Ryokufu's bench, Fujisawa Eri's folder fell to the ground with a "thud." She looked at the young man on the court, jumping higher than the backboard, and suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

The gap, it turned out, was never about imitating moves, but about this kind of inherent dominance.

"Superman? This is simply Superman!" Cheers erupted from the stands, one after another. Someone excitedly waved their cheering stick, their gaze fixed on that red figure.

"Sakuragi!"

"Sakuragi!!"

"Sakuragi!!!"

The wave of cheers swept through the entire gymnasium like a tide, and even people in Ryonan's blue cheering section started chanting Sakuragi's name.

Gu Jin bent down to pick up the basketball that had rolled to his feet. As he turned, his gaze swept over the court, accurately locking onto Uozumi near the restricted area.

With a slight flick of his wrist, the basketball slid across the floor, perfectly evading Ryokufu's players' interception, and landed steadily in Uozumi's hands.

Na Takamitsu had already established his position, his arms spread wide like iron tongs: "You won't succeed! This time I'll definitely stop you!" He was straining with all his might, veins bulging on his forehead, determined to regain some face.

The moment Uozumi received the ball, he forcefully pushed back with his back, making Na Takamitsu retreat repeatedly. "Stop me?" His voice was deep like muffled thunder, carrying an unprecedented certainty, "No one can stop my steps!"

Before his words finished, Uozumi suddenly spun around. While his left shoulder held off Na Takamitsu, his right hand raised the ball high.

Na Takamitsu leaped to block with all his might but could only reach Uozumi's elbow—Uozumi's height and wingspan already gave him a significant advantage, and now, using the momentum of his spin, he steadily sent the ball towards the hoop.

"Swish!" The basketball went cleanly through the net.

53:36.

As Uozumi landed, he specifically looked in Shanshan Shouta's direction in the stands, the fire in his eyes burning even brighter than before.

He thought of his father's restaurant, of the Fukazawa Sports University spot, and each step he took was exceptionally forceful.

Na Takamitsu, gasping for breath and clutching his knee, looked at Uozumi's steady back and felt a sense of powerlessness for the first time—this man's strength and determination had far exceeded his defensive limits.

Karazawa Kazuo in the stands nodded and said to Sugiyama, "This spirit, it's quite interesting."

Sugiyama tightened his grip on his notebook, his fingertips repeatedly tracing the words "Uozumi turn-around jump shot," his anticipation growing even more.

In the next possession, Ryokufu's offense was lightning-fast. Sato made a bounce pass from the top of the arc, and Mike Okita cut into the restricted area like an arrow from a bow. With two quick steps, he leaped, gripping the basketball, ready to execute a powerful dunk.

"Stop him!" The Ryonan bench shouted in unison.

Just as the basketball was about to touch the rim, a red figure suddenly burst out from diagonally behind, his long arm like a giant umbrella covering the sky, fiercely swatting at the ball in Mike's hand!

"Bang!!!"

A deafening collision sound rang out. Mike's dunk was solidly pressed against the backboard, and the basketball flew out of his hands!

"Look! The Red-haired Superman has completed another block!" The commentator's voice was hoarse with excitement. "This is Sakuragi Hanamichi's fifth block of the game! His defensive range practically covers the entire restricted area!"

As Sakuragi landed, he excitedly pounded his chest and made a funny face at Mike Okita: "Want to dunk in front of this genius? Practice for another ten years!"

However, a green figure suddenly lunged towards the basketball that had flown out of bounds!

Mitsui Hisashi, with his right hand, desperately scooped the ball back. The instant his fingertips touched the out-of-bounds line, he sharply tipped the ball back onto the court.

"We haven't lost yet!" he roared, sprawled on the ground, his voice tinged with blood, the wound on his temple turning white from sweat.

Sato happened to catch the returned pass. Looking at Mitsui struggling to get up, he suddenly gritted his teeth.

That block just now had almost extinguished Ryokufu's morale, but Mitsui's dive, like a match, reignited the cheers from the sidelines.

"Mitsui from beyond the three-point line!" The commentator's voice suddenly tightened. "Can he still shoot?"

Mitsui, gasping for breath and holding his knee, his right fingertips trembling slightly. But when Sato's pass flew towards him again, his eyes suddenly became as sharp as an eagle's.

Jump, raise the ball, shoot—the motion was still as fluid as a textbook.

The arc the basketball traced in the air was steeper and fiercer than that three-pointer in the first half.

"Swish—!"

The sound of the ball going cleanly through the net pierced the gymnasium's clamor.

53:39.

Mitsui swayed as he landed but forcefully lifted his chin. Ryokufu's bench erupted in long-suppressed cheers.

Sakuragi stood frozen, watching Mitsui's back, and suddenly scratched his head—this guy seemed tougher than he had imagined.