"What the hell… He was already midair, and he still pulled that off?" Michael Okita stood frozen, completely stunned.
Even in America, he had never seen such a wild and absurd steal.
He'd seen countless stylish double clutch dunks, strange direction changes—but never had he seen anyone pull off a 180-degree turn in midair for a block.
It completely defied the laws of human body mechanics.
He stared at the spot where he had passed the ball. His palm still held the warmth of that release. Shock flooded him all at once, crashing over him like a tidal wave.
The entire gym felt frozen in place.
As Aoi Kunisaku turned, the 9 on the back of his jersey flashed coldly in the overhead lights.
In the dead silence—
Aoi turned and swept his gaze across the stunned faces of Ryokufu's players. A flicker of disappointment and irritation flashed in his eyes. His voice was flat:
"This is your level? I thought someone from America would be better. What a letdown."
The silence in the gym thickened. The already still atmosphere became even heavier.
Michael Okita's face twisted slightly. But because of his personality, he didn't get angry.
Huff…
He slowly exhaled. His shoulders loosened.
He stared at Aoi, lips curling into a wry smile. He opened his palm toward the sky—as if conceding, or maybe issuing a veiled challenge.
"You're really strong. I didn't expect you to be this strong. Even if I go all out, I might not be able to beat you."
"Oh?" Aoi glanced sideways at him, instantly catching the underlying message. His voice was calm. "If that's the case, I hope you'll entertain me soon."
Aoi could feel it. That guy was still holding something back.
And Aoi had no interest in slowly dragging it out.
Sure enough—
The next second, Michael Okita's entire presence changed.
A strange, intense aura erupted from him. The atmosphere around him grew dense, like storm clouds pressing down before a downpour. His pupils, originally a soft brown, now gleamed coldly in the lights—like the eyes of a beast.
This…
The Shohoku players' expressions shifted immediately.
Especially Rukawa Kaede and Sakuragi Hanamichi—they felt it the most.
"Feels really familiar…" Sakuragi muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the sensation.
Rukawa stared intently at Michael, the heat of battle surging in his gaze.
They both knew that feeling far too well—
Wild Instinct.
So Michael Okita really did have it too.
Shohoku's bench.
The others weren't particularly shocked.
After all, Michael had gone to train in America It made sense that his strength would be legit. Possessing Wild Instinct was only natural.
"So he really does have Wild Instinct," Ayako bit her lip slightly, eyes locked on Michael with a hint of tension.
Shimizu Kanon, however, looked calm. She didn't seem the least bit surprised by Michael's transformation.
"As expected. We figured as much. But if that's all, he still can't beat Saku-chan. And besides," she said lightly, "he's not the only one on our side with Wild Instinct."
Kogure Kiminobu's eyes glinted sharply. He nodded. "Exactly. Even if the other side has Wild Instinct, we've got plenty of it too."
If Aoi wasn't here—even with Sakuragi fully awakened and Rukawa at the initial stage—Kogure would've been worried.
But Aoi Kunisaku changed everything.
His presence gave them confidence.
Kogure didn't believe that some random guy from abroad could have power on par with Aoi.
If it was that easy, then they might as well just measure matches by headcount of 'geniuses.'
On the court—
The match resumed.
Michael Okita, now in Wild Instinct mode, seemed like a different person.
His sharp aura was almost tangible. People flinched just looking at him. His steps were like coiled springs. In a blink, he'd flown across most of the court. His speed had multiplied.
That overwhelming aggression surged from his tightly coiled muscles and fierce eyes. It was like a gusting wind filled with shards of ice, blasting toward Shohoku's players.
In the stands—
Ryokufu's students exploded in cheers.
Everyone who had been sitting shot up to their feet. They waved their banners and glow sticks madly, screaming at the top of their lungs.
"Michael! Michael! Michael!"
"Ryokufu! Ryokufu! Ryokufu!"
The chants grew louder and faster, so intense they felt like they might shatter the gym ceiling.
The rest of Ryokufu's players caught the wave too. Fueled by Michael's dominance, their morale surged. Their eyes filled with fire.
Everyone thought Michael was about to storm through Shohoku's lineup and smash into the basket like a war god.
But—
A streak of red suddenly burst in from the side. His sneakers screeched across the hardwood, cutting off Michael Okita's advance in an instant.
Rrraahhh…
A low, thunderous growl rolled across the court like a beast roaring up from deep underground. The gym floor seemed to tremble.
Standing in front of Michael Okita was a figure like a black panther—covered in shadow, fierce, claws bared.
Blinking out of his daze, Michael finally saw who was really blocking his path—it was Aoi Kunisaku.
He was crouched low, body tense like a drawn bow. Arms spread like claws on the floor, veins bulged at his neck, and his bangs quivered with each sharp breath. He radiated the savage aura of a wild predator.
Michael slammed his feet down to stop. His sneakers let out a harsh squeal as they skidded.
His eyes went wide. Cold sweat poured down his temple.
Just a moment ago, in that daze, he'd truly seen it—a black panther baring its fangs, poised to tear into his shoulder.
But when he focused again, it was clearly Aoi standing there. Still, the pressure coming off him… It was the same as his own—but heavier, like a mountain pressing down.
"Impossible…" Michael's throat bobbed. His pupils shrank to pinpoints.
'He has it too… and it's stronger…'
He'd seen many players with Wild Instinct during his time in America
But never this kind of fear. Never this raw, gut-wrenching pressure.
Aoi's aura wasn't reckless or wild—it was like a blade of ice. Hidden but lethal. Far more suffocating than brute force.
His skin crawled. Every hair on his neck stood on end. Fear twisted in his chest.
It was the primal terror of prey facing a natural predator.
And as someone who'd trained in America, Michael knew exactly what this meant.
This was a difference in the level of Wild Instinct.
Smack…
A loud crack cut off the gasps in the stands.
Everyone watched wide-eyed as Aoi's hand snapped out, slapping Michael's off-hand cleanly. His palm was like a steel clamp, precise and fast.
So fast it left an echo in the air.
The ball flew out and spun toward the floor. Michael still had that stunned look frozen on his face as their shoulders passed each other.
Aoi's sneakers sparked on the court. One pivot, and he shot out like an arrow.
His Wild Instinct poured off him like a solid wall. Ryokufu's players tensed up, trying to stop him. But Aoi twisted, slipped past under their arms like a leaf caught in a storm.
His body bent at impossible angles. Knees folded sharply, like they might snap. But in the next beat, he bounced off the floor with the recoil, leaving behind three blur-like feints.
And just like that, he was under Ryokufu's basket.
The rim filled his vision. Aoi slammed the ball down. It bounced, and he soared.
His back arched like a loaded bow. His jersey flared, exposing the lines of his abs under the light.
And then—he grabbed the rim.
CLANG!
A deafening boom. The basket shook violently. The net sang a sharp, clean swish.
The scoreboard flickered.
Shohoku 53 – 55 Ryokufu.
It all happened too fast.
Like a storm, it gave no one time to breathe.
Ryokufu had just been fired up by Michael's Wild Instinct. Their blood barely had time to boil before it was doused with ice water.
That hot surge of adrenaline slammed into a brick wall. Like a roaring fire suddenly doused in a freezing bucket.
The emotional whiplash was brutal.
On Ryokufu's bench, towels were frozen mid-air. Cheers turned to chokes. A few players rubbed their eyes, wondering if they were seeing things.
Their backs broke out in cold sweat as they stared at Aoi Kunisaku landing steadily.
How strong is he, really?
He looked like he hadn't even used effort. Like this was all normal.
Fujisawa Eri stared at him, frozen. She wanted to scream—but couldn't.
She knew exactly how strong Michael Okita was. She'd been the one funding him all along.
Even in America, he had his share of fame.
Yet now, against Aoi, he was getting completely overpowered.
"So this… is the so-called 'Strongest High School Player'?" Fujisawa Eri locked her eyes on that red figure. Her nails dug into her palms.
On the court, the match's momentum was suddenly crystal clear.
Shohoku was still technically behind—but anyone could tell.
A comeback wasn't a matter of if—only when.
Ryokufu was being completely suppressed by Shohoku—and not by a team effort, but by one person alone.
Their defense was like a paper screen in front of Aoi Kunisaku. One poke, and it fell apart.
Every time Aoi advanced with the ball, it felt like a storm was coming. The sound of his dribble pounding the court hit Ryokufu's players straight in the chest.
But the most suffocating part was his overwhelming control.
When Michael Okita gritted his teeth and went up for his signature Euro Step, Aoi barely moved his feet. Just one long arm extended, and his fingertips scraped the ball with a flash of cold light.
The ball was swatted away. Michael twisted his body in midair just to keep balance, but landed stumbling two steps back. His eyes flickered with something like fear.
Not fear of the opponent—but fear of the gap in raw power.
The moment Aoi scooped up the ball, it was like the whole court became his hunting ground.
He crouched low and exploded forward. His red jersey flared behind him like a sail in the wind. His sneakers screeched across the court like a predator sharpening its claws.
A Ryokufu guard opened his arms to stop him—only to see Aoi suddenly stop, change direction, and use the recoil to blast forward again. His knee dragged a pale arc on the floor.
He streaked across the court like red lightning tearing open the sky, straight at Ryokufu's basket.
Michael Okita clenched his jaw, blood taste rising in his throat, and launched himself after him.
But that red blur in his view kept pulling further away.
His knees felt heavy like they were filled with lead. Just moments ago he could still keep pace. Now, it was like watching through frosted glass—he could see the gap, but no way to close it.
His bloodshot eyes bulged. His throat bobbed violently. Cold sweat dropped off his chin, soaking into his jersey.
'Why?'
'Why can't I keep up anymore?'
'I was fine before—why not now?'
'Is it because of his Wild Instinct?'
'Is the gap between our Wild Instinct really this wide?'
Under the gym lights, Aoi moved like a shadow through flame. He cut past two defenders with ease and reached the paint—where he crashed into the last line of defense: Nadaka Hikaru.
Nadaka planted himself under the rim, arms wide, muscles taut. He stood like a steel tower, ready to stop Aoi.
But Aoi grinned. His speed never dipped.
He charged in head-on.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Nadaka's heartbeat pounded painfully in his ears. The red figure rapidly filled his vision. He gritted his teeth so hard it felt like they might break.
He braced his back as tight as he could. Sweat dripped off his jaw into his collar, but his muscles still trembled.
He was trying to look like he'd die before backing down. But Aoi's pressure—it shook him to his core.
In a flash, Aoi was right in front of him. His drive suddenly stopped dead.
Nadaka's heart leapt into his throat. His body froze up, eyes wide. He couldn't move.
They were too close. He could feel Aoi's breath.
Aoi gave a crooked smile—and jumped.
Nadaka snapped out of it and jumped too, arms raised high.
But Aoi twisted midair, pulled the ball back with his right hand, dodging the block. His other arm slid across his chest and braced against Nadaka, pushing him just enough to draw contact.
It looked coincidental. It wasn't.
Tweet—!
A shrill whistle pierced the air.
At the same moment, Aoi flicked his wrist.
The ball arced up, just over Nadaka's fingertips, and dropped behind him toward the rim.
Swish…
The ball went in.
Shohoku 55 – 55 Ryokufu.
"Defensive foul. Basket counts. One free throw," the referee pointed at Nadaka and called out.
"Damn it…" Nadaka muttered. Frustrated—but helpless.
At the free-throw line, Aoi shot immediately.
Swish…
Right through.
Shohoku 56 – 55 Ryokufu.
Not even 10 minutes into the second half, Shohoku erased a 20-point deficit. And now, they'd taken the lead.
All thanks to Aoi Kunisaku.
Now, Ryokufu had truly witnessed what kind of monster they were facing.
His scoring was absurd. It broke everything they thought they knew.
"This guy… is he even a high schooler?" Katsumi Ichirou's voice shook. It wasn't a question anymore—it was awe.
He still couldn't believe what he was seeing.
And he wasn't the only one. The rest of Ryokufu felt the same.
"This is bad," muttered Michael Okita, looking at Aoi with a hint of helplessness in his eyes.
He never expected the gap between himself and Aoi Kunisaku to be this huge.
It shook his confidence a little.
But giving up on the game? That was impossible.
He steadied himself and spoke to the Ryokufu team. "Guys, get it together. This game isn't over yet!"
The rest of the team turned to him.
Seeing the determination on Michael Okita's face, the others seemed to regain some composure.
The game resumed.
Thanks to Michael Okita, Ryokufu's fighting spirit reignited.
But the gap in strength couldn't be erased.
Ryokufu tried to avoid Aoi Kunisaku and attack from other points on Shohoku.
Their first target was Sakuragi Hanamichi.
At first, it worked.
Sakuragi, being singled out, kept making mistakes. Ryokufu capitalized and scored multiple times in a row.
The score held steady for a few possessions.
But once Aoi launched a few more attacks, the balance shattered instantly.
He drew two fouls from Nadaka Hikaru in quick succession.
Two back-to-back and-ones crushed Ryokufu's rhythm.
But Ryokufu had no better options and had to leave Nadaka in the game.
Now with three fouls, Nadaka became hesitant, too afraid to foul again.
That gave Akagi Takenori his chance.
With Nadaka weakened, he couldn't stop Akagi.
Shohoku's interior was now completely unleashed on both ends.
Akagi poured in basket after basket.
Meanwhile—
Mitsui Hisashi turned up the heat too. He and Katsumi Ichirou traded three-point shots back and forth. The duel was intense.
Rukawa Kaede, of course, wouldn't be left behind.
Even though Aoi was stronger, he wasn't about to admit defeat just like that.
Aside from Michael Okita, no one on Ryokufu could stop him.
He unleashed his full power.
A chilling Wild Instinct burst from him.
It wasn't as dense as Aoi or Michael's, but even that much stunned Ryokufu.
Now they were facing two players with Wild Instinct.
Ryokufu's already fragile defense crumbled completely.
They were stuck.
Rukawa's outburst massively strengthened Shohoku's offense and defense.
Any hope Ryokufu had of holding on or keeping the score close vanished completely.
"Get outta my way!" Sakuragi Hanamichi roared, swatting Katsumi Ichirou's shot straight out of the air.
Katsumi stood frozen.
'What the hell was that?!'
He looked at Sakuragi, feeling the intense Wild Instinct radiating off him, and could only curse silently.
'Another one with Wild Instinct?!'
'What the hell is going on with Shohoku?'
'Is this the Wild Instinct HQ?!'
'This is BS!'
Katsumi was stunned. His temples throbbed. He felt drained, just standing there like an idiot.
The rest of Ryokufu were just as stunned, their eyes blank like they'd been hit with a paralysis spell.
Three players with Wild Instinct.
Michael Okita swallowed hard. Now he truly understood what despair felt like.
'How the hell are we supposed to win this?'
'This is bullying.'
From here, the outcome was clear.
Ryokufu collapsed completely. Their defense shredded like paper.
Aoi Kunisaku. Rukawa Kaede. Sakuragi Hanamichi.
The three of them tore through Ryokufu like a pack of merciless beasts. There was no resistance.
Ryokufu's score froze like their scoreboard glitched. Shohoku's numbers surged up the board like a broken dam.
Shohoku's bench.
Shimizu Kanon gently brushed back her hair, smiling sweetly. "Ryokufu's done. This game is already over."
Ryokufu's bench.
Fujisawa Eri stared blankly at the wreckage on the court. She slumped in her seat like the energy had been sucked out of her.
Beside her, Coach Ofuna sighed silently.
He never imagined Shohoku would be this powerful. That they'd have three players awaken Wild Instinct on the court.
In his mind, even the legendary Sannoh Kogyo team only had two like that.
Who could've predicted this?
Now it made sense how Shohoku beat Sannoh.
This match was already lost.
On the court—
As Shimizu Kanon and Coach Ofuna had predicted, Ryokufu was completely outmatched. The scene was too brutal to watch.
Tweet…
The final whistle blew.
The scoreboard froze with the final score:
Shohoku 136 – 68 Ryokufu.
A full double score difference.
Like a glaring chasm dividing the two teams.
With that, the practice match between Shohoku High and Ryokufu High came to an end.