Why had that guy already fallen back on defense? How could he be that confident in his shot?
Shintaro Midorima couldn't believe it. Someone who had never even interacted with him before had shown such absolute faith in his shooting.
In that instant, a sense of acknowledgment welled up inside him.
He walked back to Miyamoto Tokima's side and asked, "Why did you drop back on defense right away?"
Miyamoto Tokima looked completely baffled. The moment Shintaro Midorima released the ball, he had already seen how perfect the arc was. Coupled with Midorima's near–one-hundred-percent shooting accuracy in the original story, Miyamoto Tokima hadn't hesitated at all—he'd turned around and gone back on defense immediately.
"Uh… because I trusted you," Miyamoto Tokima replied. Not knowing what else to say, he gave a casual excuse to brush it off.
Trust… me?
Shintaro Midorima froze where he stood, Miyamoto Tokima's words echoing endlessly in his mind. A powerful feeling of being recognized and trusted flooded his thoughts.
"Thank you," Shintaro Midorima said earnestly.
His sudden gratitude only left Miyamoto Tokima more confused.
What's with this green-haired guy? Why is he suddenly so emotional?
"You're welcome," Miyamoto Tokima replied politely. "Just focus on the game."
"Mm," Shintaro Midorima answered, turning to take his position.
"That guy's three-point arc is insanely high!"
"Yeah, and he turns around to defend the moment he shoots. That's real confidence."
"That's not even the main point, okay? The real point is that black-haired freshman—he got back on defense even faster than the green-haired one!"
On the court…
Miyamoto Tokima's side held the lead.
The second-years were behind on the scoreboard—something no one present had expected.
The usually unstoppable First Team regulars were being completely suppressed by the freshmen.
Even though Shuzo Nijimura wasn't on the court, the others were undeniably Teikō Middle School's true mainstays.
On the sidelines, the coach's eyes gleamed with excitement.
This is it!! This is it!!
Just Miyamoto Tokima and Daiki Aomine alone were enough to make Teikō Middle School shine.
Miyamoto Tokima not only had a stable shooting touch, but had now also displayed outstanding court vision. Those two traits alone were enough to make him the true pillar of the team.
Daiki Aomine, with his extreme speed and free-flowing, effortless shooting form, was already the team's number-one scorer.
But two geniuses weren't enough—the team had gained three more.
Atsushi Murasakibara possessed terrifying physical gifts, with rare dynamic athleticism to match.
Shintaro Midorima had astonishing shooting accuracy and absolute confidence in his shot—the exact mindset an elite shooter needed.
Seijuro Akashi had exceptional court vision and excelled at connecting the entire team, whether on or off the court.
Just imagining these five becoming Teikō Middle School's starting lineup was enough to inspire fear.
"Coach, I'm late."
Shuzo Nijimura walked over and asked, "What's going on in the gym? Why are so many people watching?"
The coach pointed toward the court. "Take a look. Those are the players who'll be our starting lineup in the future."
Shuzo Nijimura turned his gaze to the court, where the second-year seniors were organizing their offense.
"We need to run a play," the second-year point guard said.
He raised a finger, signaling everyone to execute a set offense.
"Coach, you've got to be joking," Shuzo Nijimura said in disbelief. "They've been pushed so hard by the freshmen that they already need tactics?"
The coach didn't answer, only nodded for him to keep watching.
The second-year power forward stepped in to block Seijuro Akashi, allowing the point guard to switch onto Daiki Aomine.
Just as Daiki Aomine thought the point guard was about to attack, the ball was passed away.
"What?"
He turned his head and saw that the power forward had already slipped down, stopping one step inside the free-throw line.
The second-year power forward caught the pass, bent his knees slightly, and jumped to shoot.
"Not happening!"
Driven by the promise of a big meal, Atsushi Murasakibara charged forward aggressively to contest the shot.
Seeing Murasakibara rush over, the second-year slammed the ball into the floor, sending a bounce pass to the center.
"Great pass!"
The center caught it and leapt high, determined to vent all his pent-up frustration on the rim.
Both arms raised, he was about to smash the ball into the basket—
Suddenly, a figure appeared.
"Hey, hey, hey! Don't act like I'm not here!"
Miyamoto Tokima soared into the air, his left hand smashing down on the ball as he battled the second-year center midair.
The second-year center might have been stronger than most, but in front of Miyamoto Tokima, his strength was clearly lacking. The ball was swatted down instantly.
The center was knocked to the floor by Miyamoto Tokima's power and lay there for a long moment, unable to get up.
He stared blankly at Miyamoto Tokima.
He never imagined that a freshman small forward could overpower a center like him in pure strength.
"Fast break!"
Seijuro Akashi scooped up the ball and sprinted at full speed toward the frontcourt.
The second-year point guard desperately chased after him, when suddenly a figure flashed past his side.
Daiki Aomine.
In an instant, Daiki Aomine blew past the point guard and raced straight toward the basket.
What… what kind of joke is this?! How can he be that fast?!
The point guard tried to chase him down, but it was nothing more than wishful thinking.
Seijuro Akashi tossed the ball high into the air. Daiki Aomine soared up, caught it, and slammed it through the hoop.
The remainder of the game turned into a full-fledged freshman showcase.
They realized that when Miyamoto Tokima was guarded one-on-one, he could break through them with ease.
Sometimes he didn't even bother with technique—just barreled through with raw strength or pulled up for a point-blank jumper.
They couldn't stop him at all and were forced to double-team him.
But once they did, Miyamoto Tokima would exploit his uncanny vision and passing, threading the ball to open teammates for easy scores.
If he were the only one orchestrating the offense, it might not have been so hopeless.
The problem was that they also had another playmaker—Seijuro Akashi.
When Miyamoto Tokima gave up the ball, Seijuro Akashi took over. He didn't prioritize scoring; instead, he focused purely on organization, seamlessly linking everyone together.
Under the basket, Atsushi Murasakibara hammered the rim again and again, fired up by Miyamoto Tokima's promise.
On the perimeter, Shintaro Midorima was scorching hot, raining down three-pointers. Every shot he took went in.
Faced with such a lineup, the second-year seniors felt no hope of victory at all.
They felt both sorrow and relief.
Sorrow, because once this game ended, they would likely be informed that they were no longer part of the starting lineup.
Relief, because with such overwhelmingly strong freshmen, Teikō Middle School's next three years would be utterly dominant.
No school would be able to stand against them.
Thinking this way, they let go of their frustration. In the end, they could only blame their own lack of strength.
The final buzzer sounded.
The score was frozen at 88–47.
At that moment, the coach's voice rang out:
"First Team—assemble!"