"Zone Experience Card!"
"Activate!"
BOOM!
An invisible shockwave erupted from Makino Juro, surging outward in all directions.
If the Makino Juro from before was a razor-sharp blade—
Then the Makino Juro now was a newly awakened, ravenous prehistoric beast.
The air itself seed to thicken.
Standing closest to him, Sendoh felt every hair on his body stand on end.
That sensation…
It was like being locked onto by a natural predator.
Danger.
Extre danger.
"Hey… Juro…"
The smile on Sendoh's face froze as he instinctively took half a step back.
Even Rukawa Kaede's killing intent faltered for a split second—his instincts screaming that sothing was very, very wrong.
Makino Juro ignored them both.
He lowered his head, staring at his slightly trembling fingertips.
Not fear.
Excitent.
Every cell in his body was cheering. Every muscle longed to tear apart whatever stood before him.
This feeling of absolute control…
It was intoxicating.
So this was…
The loneliness of invincibility?
And this was only 50% synchronization.
So this was the world of Aomine Daiki?
"Co on."
Makino Juro lifted his head. His cyan-tinted eyes shimred under the arena lights, eerie and inhuman.
He crooked a finger at Sendoh, the gesture dripping with contempt.
"Co on."
"Show your so-called 'evolution.'"
"Let's see if you can even last one round against ."
…
Ryonan ball.
The floor burned. The air crackled with tension.
Sendoh Akira stood at the top of the arc, palming the ball in one hand.
His signature upright hair was soaked through with sweat.
His chest heaved violently. Sweat stung his eyes, but he didn't dare blink.
In front of him stood the monster nad Makino Juro.
Behind him lurked the wolf nad Rukawa Kaede.
Front and back—both blocked.
The pressure felt like being tossed into a at grinder and sprinkled with salt.
"Heh…"
Sendoh suddenly laughed, though there was a trace of bitterness in it.
He glanced at Juro, crouched slightly like a coiled predator.
Then he flicked his eyes toward Rukawa behind him, whose gaze scread I'm going to devour you.
"Hey, hey… isn't this a bit much?"
Sendoh licked his dry lips.
His fingers dug into the rough texture of the basketball, trying to ground himself.
"A double team?"
"From the two fiercest beasts on the court?"
In the past, Sendoh could dish out three perfect assists with his eyes closed.
Feed Uozumi inside?
Set up Fukuda?
Kick it out to Koshino on the periter?
But now—every passing lane was dead.
Rukawa's positioning was ruthless.
Low stance, eyes cold, silently declaring: Try passing. I dare you.
All options—gone.
Only one path remained before Sendoh.
Isolation.
But that path was guarded by a beast with its jaws wide open.
A dead end.
And the only way forward.
"Terrifying… Juro-kun."
Sendoh joked, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever.
This suffocating desperation—
Wasn't it exactly the stimulant a genius craved?
"Bang!"
The ball moved—the man followed!
No hesitation.
Sendoh dropped his center of gravity and blasted past Makino Juro's left side!
Fast!
So fast it sliced through the air!
"He's past him?!"
"That's it, Sendoh! Tear him apart!!"
On the sidelines, Coach Taoka crushed a water bottle in his grip.
One step.
Just half a body ahead, and it would be open sky.
Sendoh's shoulder had already forced its way into Makino Juro's defensive space—he was about to break into the paint.
And then—
The sky went dark.
A bone-chilling cold shot up his spine, exploding in his skull.
It felt like strolling across the African savanna—
Only to have a top predator breathe hot air down your neck.
"Too slow."
A lazy, indifferent voice—laced with absolute arrogance—exploded beside his ear.
In the next instant, the figure before him vanished.
Not disappeared—
Just too fast for the retina to process.
Sendoh's scalp went numb.
The weight in his hands—
Suddenly… vanished.
"Pa!"
A crisp, heart-stopping steal.
No feint. No contest.
Just pure, unreasonable—
Theft.
Juro's hand was like a surgeon's scalpel, slipping into the exact mont Sendoh switched hands and ripping the ball away.
"Nani?!"
Sendoh stumbled, nearly dropping to his knees.
He whipped his head around—
Only to see a wild figure in a No. 16 jersey tearing down the court.
That speed...
Even Rukawa, chasing behind, could barely keep up.
Makino Juro crossed half-court, stepped inside the three-point line, and blew past the free-throw line.
No defenders ahead.
But he didn't go for a simple layup.
In this battle of beasts—
A layup was an insult to the audience… and to the template itself.
One step.
Leap.
The floor groaned under the strain!
Makino Juro shot into the air like a launched missile!
His body stretched to the extre, spine arched like a fully drawn bow.
The basketball swung behind his head in his right hand—almost brushing his heel.
A tomahawk.
Ti froze.
Thousands in the arena stared at the demonic figure blotting out the lights, their minds blank.
"BOOM——!!!"
A thunderous explosion.
The rim shrieked under the impact, tal warping with a teeth-grinding screech, as if it might collapse on the spot.
Makino Juro hung on the rim with one hand, his body swaying with montum.
He looked down at the stunned Ryonan players beneath him.
In those cyan eyes—
There was no joy from scoring.
Only a chilling…
Boredom.
"That's it?"
He released the rim and landed.
No roar. No chest-thumping. He didn't even bother glancing at the scoreboard.
He casually brushed his bangs aside and turned to walk back.
Passing the frozen Sendoh, he didn't even spare him a glance.
The entire arena fell silent.
One second.
Two seconds.
"…Holy… shit…"
Soone in the crowd finally broke.
Then the roar erupted like a tsunami, nearly tearing the roof off the gym!
"What was that just now?! Teleportation?!"
"He disappeared! He actually disappeared for a second!"
"That's a high schooler?! You're telling that's a high schooler?! That's a damn alien!!"
"That was brutal… that's a dinsional gap!"
Shohoku bench.
Sakuragi Hanamichi's jaw hung open, his towel slipping from his hand without him noticing.
Those usually bright, clueless eyes now held nothing but earthquake-level shock.
"Gulp."
He swallowed hard.
This was… basketball?
This was what the fox and master played every day?
That overwhelming dominance… that I alone reign supre aura, trampling gravity itself…
"Glasses…"
Sakuragi turned stiffly toward Kogure beside him, who looked just as shaken.
"That… that's basketball too?"
Akagi took a deep breath, forcing down the storm in his chest.
"No, Sakuragi."
Kogure's voice was hoarse.
"That… is a monster's fangs."
Sakuragi looked back at the court.
At Makino Juro's indifferent back.
Then at Sendoh—who monts ago seed untouchable, now staring in disbelief.
A surge of electricity shot from the soles of his feet straight to his skull.
His heart pounded. His blood boiled.
"I want that too…"
Sakuragi clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
"I want that too!"
"I want to stand there… and crush everyone beneath my feet!!"
That feeling of being the center of attention, of the entire arena bowing down—
Wasn't that exactly what this genius had always chased?!
END OF CHAPTER
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