Morishige Hiroshi, under the basket, heard footsteps and looked up just as Watanabe Kenji charged towards him.

He instinctively stepped forward half a pace, spreading his arms to block the path, his stance as if to cover half the restricted area.

But Watanabe Kenji didn't slow down. In fact, as he got closer, he suddenly pulled the ball to his left hand, twisted his feet at a small angle, and slipped past Morishige Hiroshi's armpit—he didn't dodge, but rather jumped up, pressing against Morishige Hiroshi's body.

Morishige Hiroshi swayed from the impact and raised his hand, intending to swat the ball away.

But Watanabe Kenji's wrist was incredibly quick. In mid-air, using the arc from the body contact, he gently flicked the ball. It grazed the inside of the rim, spun half a circle, and 'swish'ed into the net.

Almost simultaneously, the referee's whistle blew.

"Meihou number 15, defensive foul!" The referee pointed to the free-throw line, "Koikawa number 10 gets one free throw!"

Morishige Hiroshi completely exploded, clenching his fists and wanting to charge forward: "I didn't touch him! He ran into me!"

The Meihou coach yelled from the bench until his voice was hoarse: "A-Kuan! Get back! Prepare for the rebound!"

Iwata Kazuya quickly pulled him back from the side, forcefully dragging him towards the three-second area.

Watanabe Kenji had stumbled and fallen when he landed and hadn't gotten up. Nomura Masato quickly ran over to help him.

He waved his hand, signaling he was fine, walked to the free-throw line, and wiped the sweat from his palm with his fingertips.

The stands fell silent for a moment, with only a few quiet cheers coming from the Koikawa bench.

He bent his knees, raised his hand, and with a gentle flick of his wrist—the basketball arced in a straight line, swishing through the net.

The scoreboard jumped, 5:5. Koikawa had tied the score.

Gu Jin watched Watanabe Kenji's retreating figure. He showed no expression, but as he passed Morishige Hiroshi, he gave him a quick glance.

That look wasn't exactly provocative, but it was like a fine needle, gently pricking Morishige Hiroshi in his most sensitive spot.

"Ruthless," Sendoh said in a low voice, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Knowing Morishige Hiroshi responds to force, not gentleness, he deliberately sought physical contact and timed his finish perfectly—this guy really knows how to play."

On the court, Morishige Hiroshi's face was flushed crimson, his eyes fixed on Watanabe Kenji's retreating back.

Next time, I'll send you flying!

Meihou's possession.

As Kinoshita Shota dribbled past half-court, he specifically looked towards the basket—Morishige Hiroshi was still standing in the three-second area, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with fire, staring intently at Watanabe Kenji, who had just retreated to his defensive position.

"A-Kuan!" Kinoshita Shota shouted in a low voice, his wrist dropping as he lobbed the ball into the restricted area.

Morishige Hiroshi practically jumped to catch the ball. He tucked it into his embrace with his right hand, then turned and began to drive towards the basket—this time he ignored Itakura Yuta behind him, his eyes only on Watanabe Kenji, who was coming over to help on defense.

Watanabe Kenji didn't retreat; instead, he stepped forward half a pace, positioning himself in Morishige Hiroshi's path, knees slightly bent, his center of gravity very low.

"You're asking for it!" Morishige Hiroshi grunted, his left shoulder slamming into Watanabe Kenji.

He had expected this impact to send the man flying half a meter, but Watanabe Kenji seemed to have anticipated it. His body shifted sideways with the force of the collision, and at the same time, his foot subtly withdrew—Morishige Hiroshi's shoulder hit nothing, and his center of gravity instantly tilted forward half a step.

It was this half-step of vulnerability.

Morishige Hiroshi gritted his teeth, still trying to force a jump, his wrist already raising the ball, when he heard a 'beep' from behind him.

The referee stood on the sideline, arm extended, pointing at Morishige Hiroshi: "Meihou number 15, offensive foul!"

"What?!" Morishige Hiroshi spun around, the ball 'thudding' to the ground. He pointed at Watanabe Kenji and shouted at the referee, "He deliberately ran into me! Did you see clearly?!"

Watanabe Kenji patted his arm where he had been hit, his face still expressionless, as if nothing had just happened.

But Gu Jin, sitting in the stands, saw clearly—Watanabe Kenji's positioning was extremely precise, exactly in Morishige Hiroshi's necessary turning path. He hadn't moved early, nor had he pushed anyone, completely drawing the foul by leveraging Morishige Hiroshi's own charge.

"That's the third time," Sendoh said softly beside him, tapping the railing of the stands with his fingertips. "Morishige Hiroshi is losing control."

On the court, Morishige Hiroshi was still arguing with the referee, the veins on his neck bulging.

The Meihou coach 'slammed' his whiteboard to the ground, rushed onto the court, and grabbed Morishige Hiroshi: "A-Kuan! Don't argue!" He turned and yelled at the bench, "Yamada! Warm up quickly! You're going in soon!"

A short, stout center on the bench quickly stood up, grabbing his jersey and running onto the court.

Morishige Hiroshi was half-pulled, half-dragged off the court by the coach. As he passed Watanabe Kenji, he suddenly stopped, staring intently into Watanabe Kenji's eyes: "You just wait!"

Watanabe Kenji looked up at him but said nothing.

The referee's whistle blew, signaling Koikawa's sideline inbound.

Kawaguchi Shota crouched outside the sideline, spinning the basketball with his fingertips as he scanned the court—Watanabe Kenji stood with his back to Nakagawa Hiroki outside the three-point line, while Takagi Yuta moved around in the corner, deliberately drawing Sato Takuya's attention.

"Over here!" Watanabe Kenji suddenly shouted, his left shoulder dropping as if to cut to the basket. Nakagawa Hiroki quickly moved half a step closer, but Watanabe Kenji suddenly retreated half a step, positioning himself exactly one step outside the three-point line.

It was this gap.

Kawaguchi Shota flicked his wrist, and the basketball rolled across the floor, stopping precisely at Watanabe Kenji's feet.

Watanabe Kenji bent down, scooped up the ball, and without even looking at the rim, flicked his wrist and shot—Nakagawa Hiroki's fingertips barely brushed his jersey as he lunged, but the ball was already arcing through the air.

The air in the stands seemed to freeze.

Gu Jin instinctively leaned forward and saw the basketball hit the front of the rim, bounce once, and then fall steadily into the net.

"Swish!"

A three-pointer, nothing but net.

The scoreboard jumped, 8:5. Koikawa had taken the lead.

Immediately after, the whistle for Meihou's substitution also blew.

Morishige Hiroshi was pressed into a chair on the bench by the coach, still muttering, "He did it on purpose," his face as red as a cloth.

Substitute center Yamada hurriedly tied his shoelaces, looking back at Morishige Hiroshi with a hint of panic before entering the game.

The stands were quiet.

Gu Jin looked at the Koikawa High School players on the court—Kawaguchi Shota was saying something to Watanabe Kenji, who nodded and drew a simple tactical diagram on the ground with his fingertip.

Koikawa, who had been dominated by Morishige Hiroshi just moments ago, had, in a matter of minutes, used three fouls to sideline Meihou's ace.

"Koikawa..." Gu Jin murmured, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the label of his mineral water bottle. "They are really strong."

Sendoh said nothing, his gaze fixed on Watanabe Kenji, his eyes, for the first time, devoid of their usual casualness, now showing a hint of seriousness.

The Koikawa players gathered during the substitution break, their gray-blue uniforms shimmering under the lights, somehow appearing even more dazzling than Meihou's bright white uniforms.