The whistle for the second half pierced the stuffy air of the stadium, carrying a scent of gunpowder distinctly different from the first half.

Ryokufu started with the ball. Sato Tatsuya still controlled it steadily, his eyes scanning Hainan's defense, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly—Hainan's defensive intensity had clearly increased, especially Maki Shinichi, who was like a tenacious plaster, each lateral movement carrying an undeniable aggressiveness.

Na Takamitsu was boxing out Kosha Kazuma under the basket, his broad shoulders pushing Kosha back repeatedly.

Sato Tatsuya seized the opportunity and sent a precise lob pass into Na Takamitsu's hands.

Na Takamitsu caught the ball, turned, and was about to jump for a layup when Kosha Kazuma behind him suddenly stepped forward, his right foot seemingly unintentionally extending in front of Na Takamitsu's landing spot.

The basketball bounced off the backboard and went in!

45:34.

However... "Crack!"

Na Takamitsu's foot landed squarely on Kosha's shoe, and his ankle twisted at an awkward angle.

He let out a muffled groan, falling heavily to the floor, curling up and clutching his ankle, with beads of sweat instantly rolling down his forehead.

"Referee!" The Ryokufu bench erupted instantly, all the substitute players stood up, pointing at Kosha and roaring.

Kosha Kazuma, however, raised his hands innocently, as if it were just a normal box-out: "I didn't foul, he just lost his balance."

The referee ran over to check the situation. Kosha's movement was subtle, and from that angle, it indeed looked like an accident after a normal confrontation.

Ultimately, the referee only signaled for a Ryokufu timeout and did not call a foul.

"Damn it! That was clearly intentional!" James Wallace clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

Sato Tatsuya crouched down to check Na Takamitsu's injury. Seeing him in too much pain to speak, his expression instantly darkened. He looked up at Kosha, his gaze as cold as ice: "You'd better pray he's okay."

Kosha, however, avoided his gaze, lowering his head to adjust his wristband, a subtle curve hidden at the corner of his mouth.

Na Takamitsu's face was A Shen when he was carried off the court on a stretcher.

Ryokufu was forced to substitute their backup center—a sophomore standing just over 189 centimeters tall and thinly built, who looked like he was made of paper in front of Kosha.

Takato Riki stood on the sidelines, his eyes showing no fluctuation.

For him, victory was everything, and any price paid for victory, as long as it wasn't caught by the referee, wasn't a price at all.

The game resumed, and Hainan's offense immediately targeted Ryokufu's interior.

Maki Shinichi drove with the ball, drawing a double team, then flicked his wrist to pass the ball to Kosha under the basket.

The backup center tried to block him but was easily shouldered aside by Kosha, who then effortlessly made a layup. 45:36.

On Ryokufu's offensive possession, James missed a shot, and Kosha Kazuma calmly secured the rebound.

On Hainan's possession, while boxing out under the basket, Kosha subtly elbowed the backup center. The opponent stumbled backward, and Kosha smoothly caught Jin Soichiro's pass, following it with another powerful dunk. 45:38.

In just two minutes, Hainan scored repeatedly inside, narrowing the lead to 7 points again.

Ryokufu's backup center was rattled by Kosha's small fouls, frequently making mistakes while boxing out, and his defense was practically nonexistent.

Kosha Kazuma standing under the basket was like a reef stuck in the paint, seemingly clumsy, yet his small fouls were as precise as needles.

Just as Ryokufu's backup center tried to box out for the ball, his lower back was suddenly lightly nudged by a knee, not with much force, but hitting exactly at the point of leverage. He swayed, and as he reached out to steady himself, Kosha's elbow "accidentally" grazed his ribs, carrying a malicious force.

Before he could recover, Kosha had already taken a favorable position under the basket and turned to grin at him, his voice low: "Kid, just crawled off the bench? Do you know whose territory the paint is?"

On the next defensive possession, the backup center tried to front to steal the ball, but his ankle was hooked by the tip of Kosha's shoe. He stumbled back half a step, and Kosha had already squeezed in behind him, pressing his shoulder against his spine, while muttering: "Looking at your skinny arms and legs, you probably can't even take half a hit from me, right? Why don't you go rest early, so you don't cry for bandages later."

The most insidious move was during the rebound—the ball had just bounced off the rim, and at the moment the backup center jumped, Kosha's hand seemed to go for the ball, but his elbow delivered a sharp jab to the inside of his arm.

That piercing pain distorted his movement, and he watched helplessly as Kosha snatched the rebound.

Upon landing, Kosha deliberately bumped his calf with his knee, his voice laced with mockery: "Can't even hold onto a rebound? Is Ryokufu out of players, sending a kid to deliver food?"

The backup center clenched his fists, veins throbbing on his forehead, but every time he tried to argue, Kosha would innocently spread his hands, as if everything that had just happened was his imagination.

After several such instances, he was tense all over, subconsciously fixating on Kosha's hands and feet when defending, and becoming timid when boxing out, even his breathing carried a stifled anger.

The spectators in the stands began to whisper.

"Isn't Hainan's center a bit too much? That elbow just now was too obvious, wasn't it?"

"But the referee didn't call it... Besides, how can you play basketball without contact?"

"Ryokufu is in trouble now. Without their main center, the paint is completely open!"

"Actually, his moves aren't that subtle, it's just that the referee isn't calling them!"

"The referee isn't calling them?"

"You don't know yet, do you? Kosha Kazuma's mother is from the Kanagawa Prefecture Sports Association, and she's apparently a vice director or something, I think her name is Kosha something-Fang! I can't quite remember!"

Taoka Moichi's face was so dark it could drip water. He slammed his hand on the railing: "Takato, that old geezer, he'll really use anything to win!"

He knew Takato Riki too well; this seemingly refined coach harbored an almost obsessive desire for victory deep down, and to maintain Hainan's reputation as "perennial champions," he never hesitated to use some questionable tactics.

Gu Jin's eyes also grew cold.

He could accept intense confrontation, and even understand tactical dirty plays, but this kind of insidious move aimed at injuring a player had crossed the line of basketball.

He looked at Kosha Kazuma's expressionless face and suddenly felt a bit nauseous.

Ryokufu's offense was also affected.

Without Na Takamitsu drawing attention under the basket, James Wallace had to split his focus to help defend the interior, Mike Okita's driving space was compressed, and even Mitsui Hisashi's shots had less screen support.

Sato Tatsuya tried to break the deadlock with his individual ability, making two consecutive layups after breaking through Maki Shinichi, but Hainan's interior advantage had already fully opened up.

Kosha had his way under the basket, and combined with A Shen's outside shooting, the point difference was slowly eroded.

When there were five minutes left in the game, the numbers on the scoreboard changed to 55:51.

Hainan had taken a 4-point lead.

Ryokufu's players stood on the court, their eyes filled with anger and unwillingness.

Sato Tatsuya looked at Takato Riki's calm demeanor on the Hainan bench and suddenly let out a low laugh, though there was no warmth in that laugh.

"By any means necessary, huh..." He wiped the sweat from his face, his gaze sweeping over Hainan's players, "Then let's see if you can laugh last."