Louie Davas stepped into the dribble like a spark touching gasoline.
He wasn't the fastest on the team.
He wasn't the strongest.
He wasn't the smartest tactician.
But he had the one thing nobody could train
instinct.
Street-born, concrete-raised, chaos-forged instinct.
"C'mon then, pretty boy," Louie muttered as he lowered his stance. "You think I'm scared of some anime-protagonist-footwork?"
Miho's shadow slid across the floor.
Not his body
his shadow.
The Wildcats' bench stiffened.
Armi leaned forward. "He's already syncing with Miho's steps."
Kenji cracked his knuckles.
"True Sync Phase One… the sensory lock."
Louie didn't know the terminology.
He didn't understand the layers.
He just saw Miho closing in
So, he snapped the ball behind his back, dragging his foot like he was carving graffiti into hardwood.
"WHOOO!! STREET SAUCE!" Louie whooped.
