The sudden steal was like a heavy hammer, striking hard at Seirin's hearts.
If it had been Tendou, a steal would be understandable—after all, the five of them couldn't stop him alone.
But this person was Hanamiya Makoto, which was an entirely different matter.
"Sharing the future... with teammates!"
Kise murmured to himself.
This was a possibility they had never considered.
Transmitting the future he could see to his teammates through Unlimited Void.
"This way, Seirin's incredible team coordination also..."
There was no hope left.
Takao and Midorima both felt despair for Seirin at this moment.
Kagami had no chance of winning in a one-on-one against Tendou.
For him to break through Kirisaki Daiichi's defense—or rather, Tendou's defense—he relied on his teammates' coordination.
Everyone coordinated with his Zone-level ultra-high-speed movements, executing equally high-speed plays to bypass Tendou and score.
Only then could they consider stopping Kirisaki Daiichi from scoring, giving Seirin a slight possibility of victory.
But now, everything was over.
Even if Kirisaki Daiichi couldn't stop Seirin every single time, as long as they reduced Seirin's efficiency by 50%, they would be finished.
Why?
Because there wasn't enough time.
The moment Hanamiya Makoto completed the steal, Tendou shot out like lightning.
What made Seirin feel utterly terrified was that Tendou seemed to have informed Hanamiya Makoto of his actions in advance.
When Hanamiya Makoto completed the steal, he immediately threw the ball toward the front court.
"Whoosh!"
Tendou sprinted while trailing silver lightning, like a hurricane.
No technique, just the most primitive speed—purely fast—yet it brought tremendous visual impact to the audience.
Violent beauty, technical beauty, speed beauty.
Basketball was a sport full of spectacle. Any domain taken to its extreme could produce intoxicating beauty.
"Thud!"
The moment the basketball hit the ground, Tendou reached out to grab it and accelerated again into Seirin's paint.
This time, he didn't even bother dunking, ending the attack with a simple layup.
Only now did the audience awaken as if from a dream, rising from their seats and erupting in cheers.
"How can he be so... strong!"
The Seirin players felt chills throughout their bodies.
Tendou's strength seemed to mock them.
All the things they constantly talked about—teamwork, effort, fighting spirit, belief—all seemed like jokes.
He seemed born to negate everything Seirin stood for.
Kuroko stared at Tendou, even his pupils trembling.
This kind of basketball overturned his understanding.
Everyone, including the entire Seirin team, was shocked.
After saying so many beautiful words, in the end, they still couldn't win.
"It's not over yet, it's not finished!"
Kagami roared, unwilling to accept defeat.
The key to his Zone entry was fighting for the team—this destined him to never give up on the game.
Crimson lightning suddenly blazed violently.
He led the entire team forward.
Facing Tendou's defense again, Kagami still chose to pass.
He alone couldn't accomplish breaking through Tendou's defense.
The ball conducted rapidly twice like lightning, each pass dazzlingly fast.
The Seirin players had learned—they didn't blindly pass to Kagami but looked for open teammates.
Go for three!
Izuki Shun knew time wasn't on their side and immediately thought of three-pointers.
Find Hyuga Junpei.
Before passing, he used his Eagle Eye to lock onto Hanamiya Makoto's position, not giving him a chance to steal, only passing when he confirmed it was safe.
But.
"Izuki-senpai!"
Kuroko, with his outstanding dynamic vision, suddenly shouted a warning, but it was too late—the ball had already left his hands.
With a "whoosh," Izuki Shun only saw a flash before his eyes as the ball was stolen away.
"Slap!"
He had avoided Hanamiya Makoto but couldn't avoid Tendou.
They couldn't see the world of the Six Eyes, so they didn't understand that no matter what they did, it was useless.
"Sei-chan, what does the world your Emperor Eye sees look like?" Mayuzumi Chihiro's mouth was dry.
Even such a Seirin was being beaten without being able to raise their heads—was there really a team that could defeat Kirisaki Daiichi other than Tendou?
"It's absolute," Akashi responded this way, very fitting his personality.
What did absolute mean?
It meant unbreakable, inevitable.
Any offense would be nullified.
Kagami breaking through Tendou's defense relied on the team's incredible coordination, using teammates to escort him and build a bridge to scoring.
But once Seirin's players couldn't provide him help, the result would return to its original state...
Because the Zone's second door couldn't bring Kagami greater enhancement—his condition and physical potential had already reached 100%.
When Tendou transmitted the future to his teammates, he had essentially killed the game.
...
Kagami turned and chased, recklessly, without reservation, sprinting with everything he had.
Yet he saw Tendou's figure growing more and more distant.
The nation's fastest speed that had broken through limits—even in his Zone state, he couldn't catch up.
"Swish!"
Another score.
Without a shred of hope, Seirin had truly reached the end of their rope.
Aida Riko painfully clutched her hair.
From the start of the game until now, she hadn't been able to provide any help to the team.
Often before she could think of a solution to one problem, Tendou would present another, making her brain a complete mess.
It could be said that if not for the players' consecutive power-ups and constant self-breakthroughs during this game, the score difference might have already exceeded 30 points.
Aida Kagetora looked at his daughter, feeling only sympathy in his heart.
As a coach, his daughter was still too young.
But that was understandable—having only participated in gym work since childhood, how could she compare to coaches like Harasawa Katsunori?
Coaches like Harasawa Katsunori from prestigious programs had all been professional players, working in basketball for decades to reach today's level, accumulating rich experience.
And Aida Riko?
She wasn't even an adult yet—just a teenager, a high school student. How could she achieve perfection?
Why were most professional team coaches elderly men?
Precisely because this job required very rich basketball experience, including life experience and social background.
Even Tendou wouldn't make a good coach, even with advanced techniques in his mind that surpassed this era.
But he had one advantage.
He was invincible—something Aida Riko couldn't match.
Beep~
The third quarter ended.
The point differential had now been extended to 32 points.
The moment the whistle blew, all of Seirin's players froze like statues, staring blankly as Tendou walked off the court step by step to rest.
Even though the game wasn't over yet, they had already anticipated that they would suffer another crushing defeat at this person's hands.
And this time, the blow they would have to endure would be even more intense than the last.
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