As Nango took his first free throw, Coach Murai quickly called over Morishige Hiroshi and Kawashima Naoto.
"Hiroshi, didn't I tell you not to provoke that kid?" Coach Murai, completely forgetting his earlier arrogance, earnestly reminded him, "Don't mind that kid anymore. He's trying to trick you into fouling out so he can get you off the court."
Fatty gave a simple, honest smile. "Coach, I understand. It won't happen again."
"Good, that's good. Kawashima, just as we discussed before the game—you'll be responsible for the help defense outside the paint."
Kawashima nodded firmly to show he understood.
Nango made both free throws, keeping Shohoku close in the score.
Hayama Kazuto received the inbound pass and began advancing. Miyagi didn't choose to press him.
After all, since the start of the game, Meihou Industrial's strategy hadn't changed at all—they just kept feeding the ball to Morishige Hiroshi to bulldoze inside. So Miyagi didn't waste energy defending Hayama too tightly and instead moved early to double-team Akagi's matchup.
But this time, Miyagi guessed wrong.
Kawashima Naoto moved up to set a solid screen. This 2.05-meter wall cut Miyagi off cleanly. Hayama slipped through and drove inside, meeting Sakuragi at the free-throw line.
Sakuragi's physical strength was overwhelming. For an ordinary guard, getting past him with pure speed was simply impossible.
And Hayama fell into the category of an "ordinary guard," so he had no choice but to stop.
Seeing Hayama blocked, Morishige Hiroshi raised his hand high, calling for the ball. At that moment, Miyagi also circled around Kawashima and caught up.
Hayama needed to pass soon or risk losing possession, but he didn't panic. He scanned the court, then threw the ball toward the unguarded Kawashima. Kawashima paused, adjusted, and launched a three-pointer.
Even if someone had been in front of him, with that height, contesting his shot was difficult.
Bang!
The ball bounced off the rim and flew far. Nango grabbed the rebound and immediately ignited a fast break.
Kawashima reacted quickly and gave chase, but he was no match for Nango's speed. Nango sprinted to the sideline, escaping Kawashima's defensive range.
He led the charge, and both teammates and opponents raced behind him.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Miyagi heard heavy, rapid footsteps behind him and glanced back using his peripheral vision. He was stunned.
How is this guy running so fast?! This is insane!
Morishige Hiroshi, despite being nearly two meters tall, was closing in at shocking speed. Mitsui and Akagi were being left behind rapidly. His fast-break speed was unbelievably fast—even faster than some guards. It was the kind of sight you'd never believe without seeing it.
Miyagi's footsteps stuttered. Morishige Hiroshi used that moment to overtake him—but it didn't matter.
Because Nango had already finished the layup.
Fatty could run faster than most big men, but he still couldn't outrun Nango.
With the score tied again, Coach Murai's expression tightened. But with limited options, he could only place his hopes on his players.
Meihou attacked again. Kawashima's previous attempt had missed, but Hayama still trusted his shooting, so they repeated the same play.
This time, Miyagi didn't double-team. He stuck with Kawashima.
However, as mentioned earlier—guarding Kawashima didn't matter. With his height, the shot was nearly uncontestable.
Kawashima launched another three-pointer…but it still missed.
Fortunately, this time the rebound bounced short, and Morishige Hiroshi muscled in, grabbing the ball and immediately jumping again to put it in.
Sakuragi couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Gorilla! Let me guard him! I won't let him keep showing off like that!"
Akagi didn't bother replying. If Morishige Hiroshi were so easy to handle, why would he have been dominating until now?
Besides, Sakuragi's comment annoyed him. It was as if Sakuragi was claiming to be better than him. But Akagi didn't show his irritation. He simply ran to the frontcourt, leaving Sakuragi to inbound from the baseline.
Miyagi felt helpless. If Akagi couldn't handle Morishige Hiroshi, then Sakuragi stood no chance. He was just talking big.
"Sakuragi, just inbound first," Miyagi said gently.
Sakuragi picked up the ball without speaking. His expression said everything—he was furious.
Nango knew Sakuragi desperately wanted to face Morishige Hiroshi head-on, on both offense and defense. But with the lineup as it was, he wouldn't get that chance yet.
Still—if the moment came, Nango believed Sakuragi would get his chance.
After crossing half-court, Miyagi passed the ball to Nango, who immediately went into motion.
This time, Horiuchida didn't get blown past in one step. He clung tightly to Nango's side. Kawashima rushed over as well. They planned to trap Nango together.
After drawing both defenders, Nango whipped a behind-the-back pass to Sakuragi.
Sakuragi, suddenly unguarded, didn't shoot. Instead, he put the ball on the floor and charged toward Fatty in the paint.
After two powerful strides, he jumped—both hands on the ball—and roared:
"Dead Fatty! Take this!"
Seeing Sakuragi attempt a dunk right over him, Morishige Hiroshi hesitated for a split second. He already had one foul. Another, and he risked the bench.
But after that brief hesitation—
He jumped.
He believed he could block Sakuragi cleanly.
Morishige Hiroshi jumped straight up, hands high but not pressing down—like a steel wall between Sakuragi and the basket.
Their bodies collided.
Fatty didn't budge an inch. Sakuragi, despite initiating the contact, was bounced back and lost control of the ball. The entire scene was a replay of the opening tip-off.
The ball slipped from Sakuragi's hands. Sakuragi landed awkwardly and flailed to stay upright, while Morishige Hiroshi bent down casually to pick up the ball.
Shohoku's explosive offensive attempt had been crushed.
Mikoshiba groaned in despair. "Are the Shohoku guys all idiots? Jumping up one after another just to hand the ball away?"
"Hahahahaha!" Kiyota howled, ecstatic. "That Red-Haired Monkey deserves it! Charging in without thinking! Hilarious!"
Akagi sighed deeply and jogged back on defense. Just from this one play, he understood—Sakuragi wasn't ready to defend Morishige Hiroshi.
Akagi could at least limit him a little. But Sakuragi? If he didn't foul, that would already be a miracle.
Sakuragi didn't care about the spectators' ridicule. He was too overwhelmed by frustration.
This time, he had no excuse. He had been overpowered—cleanly, absolutely.
Although Morishige Hiroshi only had one foul, his sheer dominance had already damaged both Shohoku big men's mentality.
If this continued, the so-called "Kongo Brothers" might completely collapse in this game.
Nango scratched his head, troubled.
He had no idea how to bring them back to normal.