"I never expected Sannoh's signature full-court press to be broken so easily. This kid really has a knack for it!"
"Being tall is certainly an advantage, but that three-pointer was way too casual…"
"Well, it was open, but he could've passed to make it safer."
"First-year kid on the biggest stage… of course he wants to show off."
Voices buzzed throughout the stands, but people who knew Nango Koichiro understood—
he wasn't showing off. He never did.
The truth would reveal itself soon enough.
After switching sides, Sannoh's offense once again started with Kawata receiving the ball in the mid-range.
The first time might've been a surprise.
But the second?
Kawata narrowed his eyes. What is with Akagi's defense? Is he seriously just… letting me shoot? Does he think I don't have a jumper?
Fine.
"Let's see you ignore this!"
Kawata rose smoothly and drained another mid-range jumper.
"Two for two! Kawata Masashi opens the game with perfect rhythm!" Fujiwara's voice rose with excitement. "Now Shohoku attacks again. Nango previously broke Sannoh's press with shocking ease, but Sannoh is still applying pressure!"
Akagi inbounded from the baseline. Same setup as before.
But this time the help wasn't Ichinokura.
It was Sawakita Eiji.
Coach Domoto had already realized Ichinokura's body couldn't bother Nango, so he sent the strongest outside defender in Japan to help trap him.
Sawakita and Fukatsu combined their pressure well. Their physical squeeze actually managed to compress Nango's dribbling space.
But it still wasn't enough to threaten the ball.
Because if they could squeeze Nango…
Nango could squeeze them harder.
Trying to body a 194-cm, explosive, muscular forward?
Not happening.
Nango lowered his shoulders, shielded Fukatsu with his arm, and powered forward to dribble out of the trap—breaking Sannoh's full-court press again.
This time, however, Sawakita's speed allowed him to stick to Nango's back like glue.
But that didn't matter.
As long as the press failed, Shohoku held all the cards.
Nango swung the ball to the open corner—
Rukawa caught it without a defender in sight.
Splash.
Corner three.
Shohoku up again.
Coach Domoto's brows furrowed.
He had counted on the full-court press to break Shohoku's rhythm early—
to crush their confidence—
to force mistakes.
But instead, it was Sannoh whose plan was falling apart.
If they kept pressing, they'd only drain their stamina for nothing.
So what about Ichinokura? Did he still have a purpose on the court?
Domoto hesitated, then signaled to his players. Fukatsu nodded back.
No more full-court press.
Time to confront Shohoku in a proper formation.
(That kid… ruining everything I prepared. But now it's interesting.)
Sawakita's lips curved slightly.
Good. Let's see how far you can go, Nango.
Ichinokura dribbled up the court to organize the offense.
Sawakita made no move to score yet, so Ichinokura once again looked for Kawata.
But Mitsui had learned from last play.
He smothered Ichinokura, arms flailing, blocking passing lanes, refusing to give him an inch.
Which opened a path to attack.
Ichinokura suddenly stepped back, lowered his hips, and burst forward—
slipping past Mitsui with his low center of gravity.
Kawata was still calling for the ball in mid-range.
But Ichinokura pulled up at the free-throw line and shot it himself.
Swish.
Mitsui clicked his tongue. "Tch… careless."
"It's fine. We get it back." Nango patted him on the shoulder and turned to receive the inbound.
Nango brought the ball up, and Kiyota jumped in surprise.
"They dropped the full-court press already?!"
"Of course," Coach Takato said while fanning the heat away. "Nango's physicality makes the press meaningless."
Kiyota gulped. "Sannoh… can't even deal with him? That's terrifying…"
No more press—but Fukatsu still guarded Nango solo outside the system, creating a strange formation behind him.
A BOX-1?
A trap?
A pocket waiting for Nango?
Whatever it was, Nango advanced slowly, dribbling between his legs, constantly scanning passing options.
Fukatsu stepped in—
and Nango rose instantly.
Another three.
"From deep again! Nango Koichiro fires—AND HITS! Three for three! This kid is completely on fire today!"
Shohoku 9.
Sannoh 6.
Every possession told the truth.
Nango's previous three-pointer wasn't impulsive.
Shohoku had planned this.
Nango had been planning this.
Everything was premeditated.
Coach Kawasaki stared at Anzai in disbelief.
Anzai only chuckled, shoulders shaking.
"Who would've thought… at my age, I'd still gamble this hard. Hahaha…"
"This isn't the Coach Anzai I know…" Kawasaki muttered. "What is he even thinking…?"
Up in the stands, Coach Tangze bit his lip.
Was Shohoku seriously bullying them just because they were short?
Fukatsu and Coach Domoto had the exact same thought.
Jump-shooting directly over shorter defenders?
Right in their faces?
Cruel.
Domoto considered switching defenders on Nango…
but who?
Fukatsu clenched his fists.
Should he press tighter?
If he did, Nango would blow by him and that would be even worse.
If he backed off…
Nango might just keep hitting threes.
He'd already made two in a row…
Statistically, the third shouldn't go in…
Right?
Fukatsu wasn't a gambler.
But against a monster like Nango Koichiro,
sometimes all you could do was pray.