"Kiyota, why the long face?" In the locker room, A Mu asked, looking at Kiyota Nobunaga, who was silent in the corner.

"A Mu, I just feel... what Takasago Senior did just now was too much," Kiyota Nobunaga said, gripping his towel, his voice muffled. "I know King Kai doesn't need naivety, but I feel like we didn't win honorably..."

"Kiyota," A Mu interrupted him, his tone sinking. "Actually, Takasago wasn't like this before."

"Ah? Then why..." Kiyota suddenly looked up, his eyes full of confusion.

A Mu didn't answer his question directly. Instead, his gaze drifted out the window, as if lost in distant memories, and he slowly began, "Do you remember? When you first joined the team, you always pestered us, asking why no one in our team ever wore the number seven jersey."

"I remember!" Kiyota immediately replied. "At the time, all of you were so mysterious about it, I even thought there was some taboo."

"We at Kai used to have a number seven player," A Mu's voice softened, carrying a hint of imperceptible melancholy. "His name was Matsumoto Godou, the same year as Takasago and me. He was the team's starting power forward and Takasago's best friend. They played basketball together in junior high and then entered Kai together."

"So he's now..." Kiyota pressed, a faint sense of foreboding in his heart.

A Mu still didn't answer directly, his eyes filled with nostalgia: "Matsumoto Godou... that guy was truly a sharp, unsheathed blade. In terms of athletic talent, even that kid named Sakuragi from Ryonan would probably fall a bit short.

Among our class, he was the first to secure a starting position. For those two years, first and second year, he was the benchmark for everyone on the team."

Kiyota was engrossed in listening, but then he saw A Mu's face slowly fall.

"But last year, during the National Tournament quarterfinals against Luoan High School, something happened."

He paused, his voice heavy with suppressed emotion. "Not long after the second half started, Luoan's players intentionally fouled, their movements quick and vicious... When Matsumoto jumped, they used a dirty move. He fell on the court, his left leg fractured, almost twisted into a pretzel."

"Takasago rushed up to argue, but the referee immediately gave a technical foul, not even giving him a chance to explain. From then on, Takasago changed..."

A Mu stopped there, and only the sound of breathing remained in the locker room.

Kiyota finally understood Takasago's lonely figure as he left earlier. Suddenly, everything became clear.

Perhaps this was a form of revenge!

A Mu looked out the window, his voice carrying an indescribable bitterness. "But after every game, he would always stay alone for a long time, most likely thinking of Matsumoto again."

"Matsumoto Senior's injury... hasn't it healed yet?" Kiyota Nobunaga's voice dropped. The slight dissatisfaction he had felt towards Takasago earlier was now completely overshadowed by heavy sadness.

A Mu slowly shook his head, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing his cuff. "The doctor said he'll never be able to play basketball again. So Coach Takato decided then and there to temporarily retire Kai's number 7 jersey."

"Temporarily?" Kiyota was stunned.

"Yes," A Mu looked up at him, a glimmer finally in his eyes. "Coach Takato has other plans—he wants to save this jersey for Matsumoto Godou's younger brother, Matsumoto Genma.

That kid is in his third year of junior high now, and he's also a promising player, with talent no less than his brother's back then.

Next spring, he will come to Kai, and by then, he will be your junior."

In Ryokufu's locker room on the other side, the team doctor who went to the hospital with Na Takamitsu called back, saying that his injury wasn't the worst-case scenario after all—no bone damage, just a severe ankle sprain.

But even so, he was definitely out for the next game against Shoyo.

As for whether he could recover in time for the match against Ryonan, it was still uncertain.

Fujisawa Eri clenched her fists, her nails almost digging into her palms. The name Kosha Kazuma was now firmly etched in her mind.

"No matter who is behind him, no matter what his mother's background is, I will make him pay back this debt twofold, sooner or later." She stared out the window, her eyes as cold as ice.

A teammate next to her sighed, his voice full of regret. "If Na hadn't been injured... today might have been the day we, Ryokufu, brought down Kai's pedestal."

The air was filled with reluctance, and even the wind in the stadium seemed to carry a hint of bitterness.

"We still have a chance," Mitsui Hisashi gripped the towel in his hand, sweat trickling down his jawline from his temple, but his eyes were surprisingly bright. "As long as we can win against Shoyo and Ryonan, we can advance."

Sato Tatsuya, next to him, frowned. "Shoyo should be manageable; in our current state, there shouldn't be a big problem. But Ryonan..." He paused, recalling Ryonan's well-coordinated offense and defense system, and his tone grew more serious. "It might not be so easy to take them down."

...Inside Ryonan Gymnasium, a suppressive mood permeated the training break.

"Those Kai guys today were really despicable!" Sakuragi Hanamichi slammed the basketball to the ground, his voice indignant, the veins on his forehead throbbing.

Ikegami wiped the sweat from his forehead, uncharacteristically agreeing, "Hmm. If Kosha Kazuma hadn't injured Na Takamitsu with that dirty play, Ryokufu might not have lost."

Gu Jin, on the side, remained silent, not joining the conversation, his fingertips unconsciously spinning the basketball, but the agreement in his eyes was unmistakable.

He knew in his heart that, just like in the original plot—if Takasago hadn't used tactics to force Uozumi to foul out, Kai would probably not have found it so easy to win against Ryonan.

But this time was different.

Gu Jin secretly clenched his fists. No matter what tricks Kai pulled, Ryonan would never lose again.

"Everyone, cheer up!" Taoka Moichi walked over with the tactical board, his face bearing his usual seriousness. "Now is not the time to talk about these things.

Let's review Kai's playstyle today—we'll be facing them head-on the day after tomorrow.

Remember, as long as we beat Kai, we'll have secured our ticket to the National Tournament!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over every player present, his tone suddenly impassioned: "Take down Ryokufu a week later, and by then, Ryonan will be the new king here!"

"And this glory requires all of us to fight for it, side by side!" Taoka Moichi slammed the tactical board, his voice resonating with conviction.

"Ryonan, certain victory!!!"

A deafening roar erupted in the gymnasium, every word like a basketball slammed onto the floor, carrying a resolve to burn all bridges.

Uozumi Jun clenched his fists, his knuckles white;

Sendoh Akira had a smile on his lips, but his eyes burned with an unprecedented sharp glint;

Sakuragi Hanamichi's face was flushed, wishing he could rush onto the court right now—everyone's gazes met, reflecting the same name: Ryonan.