Fourth quarter began, with both teams sending their players back on the court.
The Youth Team captain watched Kise anxiously.He exhaled with relief once he confirmed Kise was totally gassed — He was hunched over just walking.
"Thank God…I was seriously worried this blond freak would go "God Mode" again in the fourth. But thankfully, human bodies do have limits."
Youth Team's Number 1 noticed it too. Ever since Kise had gone off in the third quarter, he hadn't dared get too close to Kota—Just in case he got trash-talked into oblivion again.
But now?
He was finally feeling himself again.
"Legs not working anymore, shortie?" Number 1 sneered as he walked past Kota.
Kota gave him a mildly surprised glance.
"This guy's still at it? Really?"
He didn't respond, but Number 1 wasn't done. He motioned for the ball and called for a pick-and-roll.
Their power forward and center were absolute tanks — both over 2 meters tall, 200+ pounds. The screen they set absolutely smothered Kota.
Kasamatsu was forced to rotate over, but Number 1 — while emotionally fragile — was no slouch.
He hit a flashy combo and blew past Kasamatsu like it was nothing. Then drove inside for a clean layup.
85–84.
Youth Team retook the lead.
As he passed Kota, Number 1 shot him a smug little look and even waved his finger in his face. It was supposed to be cocky…but somehow it just looked silly coming from him.
Kota's mouth twitched.
"Bro. You didn't even score that on me. And I'm pretty sure…this is your first bucket of the whole game."
Thanks to Number 1's bruised ego, Kota's "bully the weak" strategy had been in full effect all game— He hadn't even needed to switch off him.
Kaijo's possession. Kota took the inbound and slowly brought it up.
Talent Activated: Fourth Quarter King.
A mechanical voice echoed in his head.
Kota closed his eyes and focused…
"Huh. Doesn't feel any different."
He was a bit disappointed. But as he stepped over half-court and looked at the basket — A sudden sensation surged through him.
"This shot… I can take it?"
He blinked, confused.
He was just past the half-court line. Number 1 stood casually at the three-point line, expecting him to drive.
Kota glanced at the hoop again.
Still feel it.
He licked his lips.
No hesitation — he rose up and fired.
He'd never attempted a shot from this far before. But something in his bones told him it would go in.
The ball traced a perfect arc toward the hoop — Kota was already jogging backward on defense, eyes locked on the shot.
"Please don't let this "Fourth Quarter King" crap be a scam…"
Luckily, while the system had the personality of a deadbeat dad, its gifts were always top-tier.
Swish.
Nothing but net.
BEEP!
Takeuchi's whistle blew, and he shot Kota a look of open admiration.
This kid can hit those shots too? He couldn't help wondering what Kota's half-court percentage was.
Numerb 1 rubbed his eyes.
"Was this real?"
"Is this just how high schoolers shoot nowadays? Full-court = special. Half-court = standard?"
Even the Youth Team captain was dumbfounded. He skeptically grabbed the ball and lobbed a three-pointer toward his own basket — Clang. Brick.
He bounced the ball a couple times, checked the weight.
"Felt normal…Doesn't seem like there's a magnet in it."
"Let him take one more. I don't buy it. There's no way this is actually happening."
He frowned and gave the order.
If they changed their defense too early and it turned out Kota just got lucky,they'd be walking right into his trap.
Kota noticed they were still giving him space. He didn't waste time.
Checked his feel — Yup.
Still there.
Another pull-up from just past midcourt — Another perfect swish. Not even a net rustle.
This time, Kota was ready.
As soon as the shot left his hand, he casually walked over to Number 1, threw an arm around his shoulder, and pointed toward the basket.
"Watch this."
Number 1 stared blankly at the arc of the ball — Then watched it splash in.
BEEP!
Takeuchi's whistle blew again.
Number 1 turned to Kota, who wore that same punchable grin. A mix of smugness, mockery, sarcasm — and just enough apathy to make it infuriating.
Number 1 snapped.
He shoved Kota hard, rage written all over his face.
Getting clowned by a high schooler — again and again?
He was boiling. If this weren't Kaijo's home court, surrounded by Kota's people, he might've thrown punches.
Kobori and Hayakawa saw what happened and immediately rushed over, shielding Kota.
Kota raised his hands innocently.
He turned to Takeuchi and gave a cheeky little wink.
Takeuchi's face twisted in frustration. He glared daggers at the Youth Team captain—
Control your damn players!
The captain broke into a cold sweat. He quickly signaled for teammates to drag Number 1 off the court.
Then he turned to Yuki, who was sitting on the bench.
"Warm up. You're in."
There was no way he'd let #1 back on the court after that mess. Starting a fight in the opponent's gym?
No thanks. He wasn't trying to get wheeled out of here.
Yuki swallowed hard and got up. As he passed Number 1, a chill ran down his spine.
He could feel Number 1 staring daggers at him. Not just looking—glaring.
By the time he stepped onto the court, he was visibly tense.
Kota greeted him with a grin.
"Yo… you look like you've seen a ghost."
Yuki whipped around in panic.
"N-No! I'm fine! Really!"
Kota narrowed his eyes.
He looked over at Number 1 on the bench. Still staring.
"Wait…He's not watching me. He's watching Yuki?"
Kota scratched his chin, piecing it together.
"Well then… I'm counting on you."
Yuki nodded quickly. His whole body was stiff, and the forced smile on his face made it all the more obvious.
Kota gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder — Then, once Yuki couldn't see, wagged a finger at Number 1 behind his back.
Talented. Young. Not cocky. But still timid as hell?
There's definitely something going on here…and I think I just found the source.
He ignored Number 1's increasingly sour expression and jogged back to play defense.
Yuki might be a rookie, but his passing and court vision were no joke. Still, that didn't bother Kota.
He hadn't planned on playing defense in the fourth anyway.
That's why he'd asked Kise to burn out early in the third — He was ready for a scoring duel.
No defense. Just firepower.
Outscore or get outscored. That's the plan.
How's the saying go again?
"The best defense… is a good offense."
With Fourth Quarter King now active, Kota was easily the most dangerous scorer on the floor —besides Kise.
What's that?
Kise's on his team?
Then we're chill. 😎