The match between Kainan and Shohoku had come to an end.

However, the air inside the basketball gymnasium not only failed to cool down, but instead felt as though a bucket of boiling oil had been poured into an active volcano about to erupt, causing it to boil completely.

Because next up was the final showdown of the semi-finals.

Shoyo High School VS Ryonan High School.

Everyone knew that the weight of this match was immense.

This was not merely an ordinary semi-final match; it was a life-and-death battle to decide who would directly grasp the ticket to the National Tournament.

If Shoyo won, they would step over their opponents' bones to claim the top two spots in Kanagawa Prefecture, marching into the National Tournament in justified and triumphant fashion.

If Ryonan won, they would win another chance to challenge Kainan, while Shoyo would directly drop to third place.

By that time, Shohoku, with two consecutive losses, could only be regretfully eliminated.

Therefore, the outcome of this match was closely tied to Shohoku's life and death.

Everyone in Shohoku was also extremely concerned about this match.

Naturally, in their hearts, they hoped Ryonan would lose to Shoyo.

Of course, they didn't truly hope Shoyo would win; it was simply because only if Shoyo won would they have a chance.

Naturally, they would not give up this last spot.

A storm was coming, and the entire gymnasium was tightly shrouded in a suffocating sense of tension.

...

Ryonan Locker Room.

The air here was so heavy it seemed to have frozen, so oppressive that it was almost hard to breathe.

The pungent scent of medicated bruise liniment intertwined with the strong smell of male hormonal sweat, filling every corner.

Ryonan's players were like iron-clad generals about to rush into the Asura battlefield, each with a stern expression, a straight back, and eyes burning with a fierce fighting spirit that seemed capable of igniting the air.

Clap... Clap... Clap...

Ryonan's head coach, Moichi Taoka, held a marker and slammed it hard against the tactical whiteboard, producing a rapid and heavy sound like battle drums.

His expression was unprecedentedly serious, and the veins on his forehead bulged like coiling dragons.

"Listen up..." Moichi Taoka's voice was hoarse and fanatical, carrying a kind of desperate resolution. "I don't need to repeat the significance of this match. Win against Shoyo, and we will be one of the kings of Kanagawa. The stage of the National Tournament is right before us. Whoever dares to drop the ball on me at this time, I will absolutely not spare him."

"Yes... Coach..." Ryonan's crowd let out a deafening roar in unison, like a pack of starved, ferocious wolves.

Moichi Taoka took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping across every player before him like a knife. Finally, he fiercely stabbed his marker onto the huge black dot on the tactical board representing Shoyo's paint area.

"However, our opponent today is Shoyo. No, to be precise, our biggest obstacle today is him..."

Saying this, he pointed the tip of his pen to the black dot at Shoyo's restricted area. "Zijing Cheng."

Mentioning this name seemed to drop the temperature in Ryonan's locker room by over a dozen degrees instantly.

In everyone's mind, that purple figure who ruled the entire paint area like a demon god during Shoyo's match against Shohoku earlier that morning involuntarily surfaced.

"Uozumi..." Moichi Taoka suddenly turned his head, his gaze locking tightly onto Jun Uozumi, who sat at the very center of the bench, towering like an iron tower.

"Present!" Jun Uozumi sprang up abruptly, his massive shadow instantly enveloping half of the locker room.

"Zijing Cheng is over two meters tall, and his weight and strength are at a monster level. His defensive coverage is enough to cover the entire area inside the three-point line." Moichi Taoka gritted his teeth as he assigned the task. "Uozumi, I want you to use all your muscles, your bones, and your vitality to engage in hand-to-hand combat with him. Box him out of the paint for me firmly. Even if it means a foul, even if you get knocked flying, you must absolute not let him jump easily. You are Ryonan's Captain and our pillar of support; you must never lose to that guy in terms of strength."

"Yes..." Jun Uozumi let out a violent roar like a Gorilla, smashing his fists hard against each other in front of his chest with a dull "thud". "Leave it to me, Coach. I will definitely block that purple-haired kid outside the paint."

Moichi Taoka nodded with satisfaction, then shifted his gaze to the side.

There, Akira Sendoh was sitting quietly.

His signature Broomhead was still standing upright, but the lazy smile that usually hung on his lips had completely vanished at this moment.

Replacing it was a chilling sharpness, just like a peerless demonic blade that had just been pulled from its scabbard, flashing with a cold, eerie gleam.

"Sendoh..."

"Yes..." Akira Sendoh raised his head slightly, his eyes calm yet as deep as a bottomless black hole.

"No matter how strong Zijing Cheng's defense is, he is only one person after all." Moichi Taoka's eyes flashed with a cunning and ruthless light. "Sendoh, you must use your vision and passing to completely tear apart Shoyo's perimeter defense. I want you to act like a sharp knife, continuously weaving between the opponent's #6 and #7. Once Zijing Cheng's attention is drawn by you, immediately distribute the ball to Fukuda or Uozumi. Remember, don't go head-to-head with that monster in the air; we will use our brains and tactics to shred them."

"I understand." The corners of Akira Sendoh's mouth hooked up slightly, forming a dangerous arc. "I will turn Shoyo's defense upside down."

"Lastly, and most importantly." Moichi Taoka slammed both hands onto the whiteboard and shouted sternly, "Kenji Fujima. That guy is not easy to deal with. What we need to do is launch a devastating offensive climax within the first five minutes of the opening. Uekusa, Ikegami, you two bite onto the opponent's #10 for me tightly. Full-court press, apply the most terrifying pressure on him. We must force Kenji Fujima to take off his coat and get his ass onto the court in the fastest and most brutal way."

"As long as we force Fujima out, Shoyo's tactical system will reveal a flaw. We will drive a fierce knife straight into this flaw."

"Did you understand...?" Moichi Taoka asked loudly.

"Understood..." Ryonan's crowd responded in unison.

"Say it again, did you understand...?" Moichi Taoka continued to ask loudly.

"Understood..." Ryonan's crowd responded in unison once more.

"Say it again, did you understand...?" Moichi Taoka asked yet again.

"Understood..." What Ryonan's crowd shouted this time truly made Moichi Taoka's ears go numb.

"Very good..." Moichi Taoka nodded with satisfaction. "Then next, we will go crush them."

"Yes..." Ryonan's crowd responded in unison, shaking even a bit of dust down from the ceiling of the locker room.

...

Meanwhile, Shoyo Locker Room.

Completely different from the tragic atmosphere over at Ryonan's side as if they were going to battle for their lives, Shoyo's locker room appeared much brighter and calmer, yet it was similarly permeated with an aura of sternness.

The players had already changed into those green battle robes symbolizing glory.

Kenji Fujima, acting as Captain and coach, stood in the center. He had handsome features, and his eyes were wise and calm, resembling a young commander strategizing behind the scenes.

Toru Hanagata pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Mitsuru Nagano, Kazushi Hasegawa, Taku Ito, and others surrounded Kenji Fujima in a semi-circle, each holding their breath and listening attentively to the upcoming tactical deployment.

However...

In this atmosphere so serious that even a needle dropping to the floor could be heard, it was instead mixed with an extremely discordant, even harsh sound.

"Sluuurp... Chomp chomp... Sluuurp..."

Beside the semi-circle formed by the crowd, although Zijing Cheng sat upright on the bench, his appearance showed not the slightest sign of listening attentively.

His massive body of over two meters forcibly curled itself up into a ball.

One of his big hands was holding an oversized fruit jelly, while the other hand pinched a pink plastic small spoon extremely disproportionate to his cattail-leaf-like palm.

"Mmm... This orange-flavored jelly has so little orange pulp. It tastes so bad. I want to crush the factory owner who produced this jelly..."

Zijing Cheng muttered with a sticky complaint while digging up a large chunk of jelly with the small spoon, mechanically stuffing it into his mouth and chewing with "chomp chomp" sounds. His eyes were vacant and absent, completely spacing out.

He hadn't listened to half a word of the tactics against Ryonan that Kenji Fujima was explaining.

A few black lines couldn't help but surface on Kenji Fujima's forehead, but he took a deep breath, forcibly ignoring the eating creature in the corner, and continued speaking to the other players:

"Ryonan's core is Sendoh and Uozumi. Hanagata, your task is the heaviest." Kenji Fujima looked at Toru Hanagata. "Uozumi's strength is very strong, but he lacks flexibility and shooting range. You don't need to hard-fight him in the paint. Play to your advantages as a flexible center, use the Fadeaway Jumper and footwork to pull him out of the paint. As long as he leaves the paint, Ryonan's interior defense will collapse."

"Understood, leave it to me, Fujima." Toru Hanagata pushed his glasses confidently, a flash of sharp light passing through his eyes.

"Nagano, Hasegawa." Kenji Fujima's voice turned stern. "The task for both of you is to block Akira Sendoh's passing lanes at all costs. Hasegawa, I know you have an obsession with Hisashi Mitsui, but today, I want you to pour all your defensive pressure completely onto Sendoh or Fukuda. Even if you get shaken down, you must immediately get back up and continue biting onto them like a mad dog."

"Yes..." Kazushi Hasegawa clenched his fists, his eyes resolute.

"Ito, you will serve as the point guard at the opening." Kenji Fujima patted Taku Ito's shoulder. "Ryonan will definitely try to disrupt your rhythm through crazy trapping press, with the purpose of forcing me onto the court. Don't panic, stabilize your rhythm, play to your height advantage, and safely deliver the ball to the front court."

Having deployed all this, Kenji Fujima finally turned his head to look at Zijing Cheng, who was still struggling with the jelly.

"A-Cheng..." Kenji Fujima called out helplessly.

"Sluuurp... Eh?" Zijing Cheng held a mouthful of jelly and slowly turned his head. That pair of half-drooping purple eyes was filled with innocence and sleepiness. "Fujizai, is there something the matter?"

Shoyo crowd: "..."

Kenji Fujima forcibly suppressed the impulse to smash the tactical board onto that big face, took a deep breath, and said: "A-Cheng, when you go on court later, you will have only one task."

"So troublesome..." Zijing Cheng threw the pink small spoon into the empty jelly box and stretched out slender fingers to scratch his purple hair. "Can I not go on court? Besides, you guys playing should be enough, right?"

"No." Kenji Fujima refused decisively. "Not only must you go on court, but you must also build an absolutely insurmountable city wall for me in the paint. If Ryonan dares to drive into the paint, whether it's that Sendoh or that Uozumi, you must defend them all and stop them for me."

"Eh..." Zijing Cheng dragged out his ending tone as if he had suffered a grave grievance, twisting his massive body on the bench with a "creak" sound. "But defense is so tiring, jumping up and down until my bones are about to fall apart. Playing basketball is so boring; why don't we just forfeit directly and go eat at that newly opened creperie?"

"Zijing Cheng..." Toru Hanagata couldn't help it anymore and shouted sternly.

"Sigh... Hanagata is so fierce." Zijing Cheng glanced at Toru Hanagata, then sighed and slowly stood up.

The moment he straightened his body, the light in the entire locker room seemed to dim slightly.

That terrifying height and broad shoulders brought a suffocating sense of oppression, even though his expression remained a daze of someone who hadn't fully woken up.

"I know!" Zijing Cheng looked down patronizingly at Fujima and let out a huge yawn. "Then the defense in the paint will be left to me! But..."

His pair of dead-fish eyes suddenly lit up, and he extended a thick finger pointing at Kenji Fujima: "After the match ends, I want to eat ten—no, twenty double-strawberry and chocolate crepes."

Kenji Fujima smiled helplessly, but his eyes became incomparably sharp: "As long as you can completely destroy Ryonan's interior, let alone twenty, fifty are fine."

"It's a deal!" Zijing Cheng moved his neck, producing a "crack-crack" popping sound from his bones.

Kenji Fujima looked at the time and spoke. "Court time has arrived, let's move out."

"Oh..." Shoyo's crowd responded in unison.

...