Right from the opening, Kaijo High was completely suppressed by Tōō Academy, falling into a disadvantage. The root cause of the gap was simple—there was a clear difference in overall team strength.
In the stands, Takao Kazunari, sitting beside Midorima Shintaro, spoke with visible shock.
"It's obvious… Tōō Academy's players are stronger across the board than Kaijo!"
"Yeah. That's why they're being pressured from the start," Midorima replied calmly. "You have to admit it—this is a difference in ability. Without better coordination or tactics, it'll be hard for them to keep going."
Hearing the exchange between the two, Haizaki Shogo cut in.
"Tōō isn't just strong because of Aomine. The rest of their players were all specially recruited from across the country. Their strength speaks for itself."
In other words, every member of Tōō had entered the school as a sports recruit. Without real skill, that would be a joke.
On the court, Kaijo regained possession. As they brought the ball past half-court, facing Tōō's tight man-to-man defense, Yukio Kasamatsu was forced to make a decision.
Tōō's defense was simply too strong—it wasn't something easily broken through.
After a moment of hesitation, Kasamatsu passed the ball to the team's ace, Kise Ryouta.
That pass represented both recognition and trust—from Kasamatsu, and from Kaijo as a whole.
Kise froze for a brief moment. Then his expression softened. The trust from his team instantly boosted his confidence and courage.
Taking the ball, Kise prepared to face Aomine Daiki head-on—the ace of Teiko Junior High, and the very player he had always admired.
Kise slowed his breathing, lowered his center of gravity, and focused. The basketball shifted rhythmically between his left and right hands as he found an opening on the right side and drove forward.
"啪!"
A sharp sound echoed. Kise's expression changed drastically—shock flashed across his face, followed by understanding, then immediate composure as he sprinted after the ball.
Aomine, having stolen it, dashed forward like the wind. On the court, the only one barely able to keep up with his pace was Kise.
But even then, Kise couldn't stop him.
Aomine leapt—and with a single hand, sent the ball cleanly into the hoop.
There was no explosive slam, no overwhelming force. Just a simple jump… a simple dunk… and a simple landing.
Seeing this, Haizaki's pupils shrank.
Aomine… he's improved again.
As expected of the first to bloom.
Midorima, who also witnessed the play, spoke a single word.
"Perfect."
Takao tilted his head in confusion. Having never truly experienced dunking himself, he couldn't grasp what made it special.
"Shin-chan, was that really that amazing? It looked pretty normal to me… isn't it just a regular dunk?"
"Not every dunk needs to be flashy," Midorima replied. "The more dramatic a dunk is, the more stamina it wastes. Didn't you notice how natural that one was? Completely smooth—like it just happened as it should."
"Uh…"
Midorima's explanation made sense to those familiar with dunking. They could understand just how perfect Aomine's execution had been.
But for many others—including some of Haizaki's teammates—it was still incomprehensible.
Haizaki glanced at his teammates, then at the players from Shutoku High, pondering for a moment before speaking.
"Let me ask you this—during a game, which is better? Scoring two points with a dunk, or scoring two points with a floater or a bank shot?"
"Of course a dunk is better!" Takao answered immediately.
But the moment the words left his mouth—
"Fool!" Midorima snapped.
"Shin-chan, you—"
Haizaki nearly burst out laughing. Watching Takao's stunned, awkward expression, he spoke leisurely.
"If you have 100 stamina points, and a dunk costs 50 to score two points, while a floater or bank shot only costs 5… which would you choose?"
"Well… obviously the floater…"
Takao fell silent mid-sentence. It was as if something suddenly clicked in his mind.
"Haizaki-kun… are you saying that Aomine used the least amount of energy to complete a perfect dunk? Not only stealing from Kise, but also scoring, boosting his team's morale—and even dealing a blow to Kaijo?"
"Hah… Shimizu-chan really is smart."
Shimizu Rena's insight made Midorima glance at her again. Meanwhile, Haizaki and the others finally understood the deeper meaning behind that play.
There was one more layer Haizaki didn't mention—
To execute such a smooth and effortless dunk required both exceptional physical ability and refined technique.
Among those watching, Kagami Taiga—who excelled at dunking—furrowed his brows deeply. His already sharp eyebrows twisted into a knot.
Noticing this, Kuroko Tetsuya asked, puzzled,
"Kagami-kun, is something wrong?"
"Kuroko… Aomine Daiki is way stronger than what you described. By several levels."
"Kagami-kun, my understanding of the Generation of Miracles is based on middle school. After the second half of our second year, Aomine-kun barely trained with the team anymore—and still won easily. So… they've definitely grown."
Kuroko's words made the Seirin players' eyelids twitch.
Even the "middle school" Generation of Miracles already made their palms sweat… and now they were hearing that those monsters had grown even stronger.
A dark cloud seemed to gather above Seirin's heads.
The Winter Cup they had confidently prepared for suddenly felt uncertain—filled with thorns and obstacles.
While the audience buzzed with discussions—some understanding, others confused—the battle on the court had already intensified once more.
Kaijo, having lost points again, grew visibly tense. No matter how they resisted, it felt like they were being tightly restrained—an overwhelming sense of helplessness weighed on them.
Kasamatsu dribbled the ball past the three-point line in Tōō's half. Sensing his teammates' dropping morale and facing Tōō's impenetrable defense…
The responsibility to score naturally fell onto him—the point guard.
He accelerated, attempting to break past Imayoshi Shoichi, who immediately closed in with tight defense.
But—
Kasamatsu suddenly stopped, turned, and jumped.
The ball arced through the air and swished cleanly into the net.
Swish!
Kaijo pulled back two points.
But just as things seemed to improve—the situation collapsed again.
A shadow flashed past.
Before Kasamatsu, Moriyama, Hayakawa, and Kobori could even react—faces filled with shock and disbelief—Aomine had already sent the ball effortlessly into the hoop.
At that very moment, the whistle signaling the end of the first quarter blew.
Score: 26–12.
Tōō Academy in the lead.
Kise inhaled sharply, wiping the shock from his face.
That moment just now…
I didn't expect Aomine-kun to launch such a fast counterattack.