“Coach, Watanabe is starting to provoke Morishige Hiroshi with words again. What if Morishige Hiroshi…” the assistant coach said worriedly.

On the sidelines, Meihou's coach stared at Morishige Hiroshi's back on the court, then suddenly smiled and said, “They’ve underestimated Morishige Hiroshi!”

The assistant coach beside him was stunned for a moment, then leaned over and asked, “Coach? Are you saying…”

“That kid, A-Kuan, won’t let anger cloud his judgment!” Meihou's coach tapped his finger on the tall figure on the court who was currently boxing out Itakura Yuta, his tone filled with certainty. “From the very beginning of his so-called argument with the referee, that wasn’t anger at all, but annoyance! This kid is arrogant to the core. He’s used to dominating the court, so how could he stand being pestered by Watanabe with such ‘petty tricks’? Being provoked like this by someone weaker than him, he’s been utterly annoyed for a long time.”

He paused, watching Morishige Hiroshi raise his hand to catch the ball passed by Kinoshita Shota, his elbow steadily fending off Nomura Masato who tried to come over for a double-team. His eyes lit up: “Anger makes you lose your composure. Annoyance is different… He’s just holding back a surge of energy now, wanting to quickly crush these ‘annoying things’.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Morishige Hiroshi on the court made his move.

He gripped the ball and lowered it to his waist. His shoulder didn't violently collide like before; he just lightly pushed backward—Itakura Yuta was pushing hard forward and was unexpectedly knocked off balance by this 'soft yet firm' force.

In that half-second window, Morishige Hiroshi suddenly pushed off with both feet, and his entire body sprang up like a spring compressed to its limit!

He jumped higher than any time before. When he grabbed the ball with both hands and raised it above his head, his hands were already higher than the rim.

Itakura Yuta instinctively jumped to block, but his fingertips couldn't even reach Morishige Hiroshi's wrist. He could only watch helplessly as the basketball was slammed into the hoop—

“Bang!”

The backboard made a dull thud, shaking the backboard with a buzzing sound.

Morishige Hiroshi hung on the rim for a moment, but this time he didn't dare to hang for long. When he let go and landed, he was right on the three-second line.

He looked down at Itakura Yuta, who had been shaken back half a step, and frowned. Where was there any anger in his eyes? Only pure impatience with the 'obstacle' in front of him.

“2 points, valid!” The referee's whistle was crisp and clear.

The scoreboard jumped to 15:11.

Rikawa's possession.

As Kawaguchi Shota dribbled past half-court, his gaze swept towards the basket—Morishige Hiroshi was still standing in his previous position, knees slightly bent, his center of gravity very low, like a beast poised to strike. Itakura Yuta and Nomura Masato stood to his left and right, but neither dared to move forward first.

“Watanabe!” Kawaguchi Shota threw the ball to the wing.

Watanabe Kenji didn't hesitate when he caught the ball. As usual, his left shoulder dipped slightly, feigning a drive.

Nakagawa Hiroki was smarter this time. He didn't stick too close, just stood sideways to block the path.

But Watanabe Kenji suddenly flicked his wrist, passing the ball inside—Itakura Yuta was cutting in, using Nomura Masato's screen, and looked poised to receive the ball.

Just then, a dark shadow suddenly cut in from the diagonal!

It was Morishige Hiroshi.

He completely ignored Itakura Yuta, whom he was supposed to be guarding. As if he had anticipated the passing lane, he stretched out his long arm, and his fingertips precisely poked the basketball.

With a “Pa” sound, the ball was swatted away, rolling straight towards the frontcourt.

Kudo Takuya reacted the fastest, sprinting forward. By the time he bent down to scoop up the ball, he was already outside the three-point line.

He didn't dare to dribble further, raising his hand to shoot—the basketball arced through the air and swished through the net!

15:14!

Meihou's fans in the stands instantly erupted, their cheers almost tearing the roof off the stadium.

Morishige Hiroshi, however, didn't turn to look at the three-pointer. He simply turned and repositioned himself for defense. As he passed Watanabe Kenji, his steps didn't falter, and he didn't even glance sideways, as if that steal had merely been a casual flick of dust from his body.

Watanabe Kenji's face finally darkened.

On the next possession, Rikawa tried the same trick again—Kawaguchi Shota feigned a pass to Watanabe Kenji, but actually slipped the ball to Nomura Masato under the basket.

Nomura Masato was just about to jump for a hook shot when a strong sense of pressure suddenly came from behind him!

“Hmph!!!”

Morishige Hiroshi practically enveloped him!

Nomura was too nervous, and he unconsciously took a step backward.

The referee's whistle blew: “Rikawa #12, traveling violation!”

When Nomura Masato looked back, Morishige Hiroshi was standing in his previous spot, bending down to pick up the ball from the floor. He didn't even lift his eyelids when he tossed it to the referee.

That look, as if saying, “You think you can pull off these petty tricks in front of me?”, made one's heart tighten even more than the previous roar.

Meihou's possession was completely revived.

Kinoshita Shota dribbled past half-court, no longer needing to worry about finding a passing lane—Morishige Hiroshi was boxing out under the basket, and Itakura Yuta and Nomura Masato combined couldn't move him.

Kinoshita Shota flicked his wrist and sent the ball over. As Morishige Hiroshi caught the ball, he leaned back lightly, and Itakura Yuta was directly pushed to the ground.

He ignored the man on the ground, turned to face the basket, and gently released the ball with his right hand—the basketball slid off his fingertips and into the hoop, not even touching the rim.

15:16! Meihou had taken the lead.

Rikawa was getting anxious.

Kawaguchi Shota dribbled aggressively, trying to break through and link up with Watanabe Kenji, but Morishige Hiroshi seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, shifting half a step to the outside as soon as Kawaguchi Shota crossed half-court.

Kawaguchi Shota didn't dare to pass the ball and could only attempt a layup himself. The moment he raised his wrist, Morishige Hiroshi's large hand already covered it— “Slap!” The ball was firmly pressed against the backboard by him, bouncing back right into Iwata Kazuya's hands.

Iwata Kazuya threw the ball to Kudo Takuya, who scored on a fast break. 15:18.

Watanabe Kenji finally couldn't hold back. He drove directly into the restricted area with the ball.

This time, he didn't try any fakes; he just relied on his speed, trying to brush past Morishige Hiroshi.

But Morishige Hiroshi stood still. Only when Watanabe Kenji got close did he lightly extend his arm—it didn't touch his body, but it perfectly blocked all paths.

Watanabe Kenji couldn't stop his momentum and almost crashed into his arm. He could only make a sudden stop and pass the ball back, but Nakagawa Hiroki intercepted it cleanly.

“Beep!” The whistle blew, and Meihou scored another 2 points on a fast break.

20:15.

In the stands, Gu Jin leaned forward, looking at the towering figure on the court who was almost everywhere—Morishige Hiroshi no longer dunked, nor did he argue with the referees, but Itakura Yuta didn't even dare to shoot in front of him. Watanabe Kenji's drives were effortlessly neutralized by him again and again, and even Rikawa's most skilled pass-and-cut plays became disjointed because of his presence in the paint.

“This is…” Gu Jin muttered softly, “absolute dominance.”

Sendo tapped his fingertips on the railing, a hint of complexity in his eyes: “He’s not just crushing them with brute force; he’s completely locked down Rikawa’s rhythm.

Watanabe’s petty tricks are useless against him now—he’s annoyed, but his mind is crystal clear.”

On the court, Watanabe Kenji was breathing heavily, hands on his knees. When he looked up at the basket, Morishige Hiroshi was receiving a pass from Kinoshita Shota, making another easy bank shot. The scoreboard jumped to 22:15, and the lead continued to widen.

Kawaguchi Shota ran over and patted his shoulder, wanting to say something, but saw Watanabe Kenji suddenly straighten up, the calmness in his eyes completely gone, replaced only by desperation.

He gritted his teeth and charged towards Morishige Hiroshi, not even looking at the defensive players—

Morishige Hiroshi had just landed. He caught a glimpse of Watanabe Kenji charging towards him out of the corner of his eye, his eyes filled with disdain and annoyance.

He didn't dodge or move, just stood there, like a mountain welded to the ground.

“Bang!”

The moment the two collided, Watanabe Kenji was bounced back two steps, but Morishige Hiroshi didn't budge.

The referee's whistle immediately blew: “Rikawa #10, offensive foul!”

Watanabe Kenji stood rooted to the spot, his chest heaving violently. Looking at Morishige Hiroshi's expressionless face, for the first time, he lost his previous composure.

On the sidelines, Meihou's coach finally let out a sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair, his voice soft but clear: “Alright… This game is secured.”