Araki Masako's ideal vision for Yōsen had finally materialized.
Using Murasakibara as the playmaker had completely revitalized their offense.
Their momentum soared.
Next possession, Murasakibara continued facilitating, delivering the ball to Himuro a step early.
Himuro's jumper splashed through again.
"Nice shot!"
"Beautiful, keep it up!"
"Get a stop!"
Yōsen's players exchanged high-fives, encouraging each other.
But—
Yuuto's expression remained terrifyingly calm.
Not a ripple of emotion, as if Murasakibara reaching this level was already within his expectations.
"Solving this problem isn't hard. Just expand the defensive coverage—change from 2-1-2 zone to 3-2 zone and cover both corners." Yamashita had already thought of the solution.
He believed Yuuto could figure it out too—this wasn't beyond that brain of his. Yet he hadn't done it.
"Is he planning something?" Yamashita chose to trust his student and watch.
Nash.
That was what Yuuto was planning.
"Nash could go toe-to-toe with the Generation of Miracles in a normal state, only losing at the buzzer. I should be able to do the same now."
Yuuto's mind raced, his weakness correction talent activating again and again.
Nash had indeed lost in that competition against those geniuses. But without question, his high school career was brilliant enough—he was a five-star recruit.
To establish himself in American high school basketball, Yuuto needed at least Nash's level.
He wasn't going there to be a bench player—he was going to be the undisputed core.
"I've completed adjustments on everyone. All I need to do is activate the memories etched into my muscles."
While contemplating, with Yōsen still celebrating their basket, a savage wildness slowly seeped from Yuuto's body.
"Hah!"
He exhaled a breath of turbid air and raised his hand for the ball.
Kasuga immediately passed it over. But Himuro had been lurking nearby—he accelerated to intercept.
This is bad!
Seihō's players felt a chill. Yōsen's momentum had been overwhelming lately, putting them under immense pressure.
But—
Smack!
Bam!
Just before Himuro could steal it, Yuuto's arm reached out first, caught the ball, pulled it behind his back for a dribble, and blew past his defender into the three-point arc.
"Not yet." Fukui immediately rotated to help.
But—
Before everyone's horrified eyes, Fukui's body suddenly crumpled.
The entire exchange took less than two seconds.
Thud!
Yuuto took the ball around his fallen defender and accelerated, transforming into a beam of light assaulting Yōsen's paint.
Now, only Yōsen's three towers stood before him.
Yuuto showed no fear, charging forward, one step into the paint.
They seemed to do nothing, yet also seemed to do something.
Okamura and Liu Wei's bodies involuntarily left the ground—somehow ankle-broken into the air. Only Murasakibara remained, his feet glued to the floor.
But—
The ball in Yuuto's hands had vanished. He and Murasakibara locked eyes beneath the basket.
"This is..."
"Are you serious?! That's terrifying!"
Hayama Kotaro exclaimed.
"He wasn't this strong when he played us in the Inter-High finals!"
"From the catch, he blew past two defenders, then put two more on the floor simultaneously." Mibuchi Reo was equally dumbfounded.
Swish!
The shot fell—Himuro's quick-release jumper.
"Even Murasakibara couldn't react?"
"No, he probably reacted but it didn't matter. The initiative was in Yuuto's hands!"
"Those eyes..."
Seirin fell silent.
A Yuuto like this was unbelievably strong.
"Monster!" Araki cursed internally, then shouted to her players from the sideline. "Don't worry about it! Play our game!"
Yōsen's players nodded firmly and set up their offense. They moved like a precision machine.
Off-ball screens for each other, creating opportunities to safely feed Murasakibara, while looking for cutters...
Every play.
Every person.
All under Yuuto's watchful eyes.
As if projecting his vision from above, surveying the entire court.
Himuro's movements flowed like water—even Tsugawa couldn't freeze him, requiring Yuuto's help...
"In terms of individual ability, I'm no match for you. I've stopped deluding myself about beating you. But I have to go—I have a promise to keep with Taiga."
Whoosh!
The instant Yuuto moved, Himuro released the ball.
He didn't dare let Yuuto get close—no confidence he could safely pass with those eyes on him.
The ball reached Fukui, who immediately fed it into Murasakibara's hands.
Meanwhile, Himuro was already cutting. Tsugawa gave chase but got completely walled off by Okamura's screen.
It all happened simultaneously, all under Yuuto's observation.
In an instant, Yōsen's offense had spread wide.
And at that moment, Yuuto had already transformed into a beam of light shooting into the paint.
Murasakibara reacted immediately, looking for Himuro first.
But that was a decoy—his real target was Fukui.
His passing hand faked right, then whipped the ball left to Fukui at an even faster speed.
But—
Right then, the world in his eyes suddenly went completely dark, leaving only himself and Yuuto.
A red dot flickered brightly—right there on his hip.
"Is this the dead point Aka-chin mentioned?" Murasakibara's pupils dilated rapidly.
Almost simultaneously, the Yuuto in his vision moved, spinning his body rapidly, his right arm sweeping across to strike the ball solidly.
He saw the entire process, yet his body couldn't move.
Because his passing motion was already complete—impossible to change.
"This is the Demon Eyes—able to see irreversible outcomes." Akashi sighed softly.
The moment he finished speaking—
Smack! Murasakibara's pass was intercepted, landing near Iwamura.
The change caught everyone off guard, including Iwamura himself.
Fortunately, his reactions were quick enough—he scrambled to pick up the ball.
Then—
"Nice pass."
Iwamura had been about to pass, but when he looked up to find a teammate, Yuuto's hand was already reaching in—crossing through time itself, materializing before him and stripping the ball away. Yuuto blazed forward like a hurricane.
"This guy." Iwamura couldn't help but laugh.
He knew he shouldn't show such emotion during a game.
But—
It was just so reassuring.
...
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