Chapter 192 - 193
Chapter 192: No Rush
Seirin’s eyes all turned toward Atsushi Murasakibara.
On the court, Murasakibara let out a slow yawn, looking like he hadn’t fully woken up.
Shinji Koganei couldn’t help but ask,
“Why didn’t we see him in the last game?”
Tetsuya Kuroko’s expression was serious.
“Murasakibara-kun was originally at Yōsen High School. He may have transferred to Kirisaki Daiichi. Back in middle school, Murasakibara-kun only listened to Miyamoto-kun. He didn’t really listen to anyone else.”
Shinji Koganei nodded slowly, then pointed at Dicky Anthony and muttered,
“If that’s the case, then what’s with that foreigner on the court?”
Tetsuya Kuroko shook his head.
“I’m not sure either.”
On the court.
Daiki Aomine wasn’t looking at Miyamoto Tokima, nor at Atsushi Murasakibara.
His eyes were fixed on Dicky Anthony.
He stared at him, his expression shifting slightly.
Damn… he’s not actually a terrorist, is he???
Miyamoto Tokima led Kirisaki Daiichi to the sidelines and said calmly,
“Everyone knows how we’re playing this, right?”
The team nodded in unison.
“Got it, Tokima-san.”
Miyamoto Tokima gave a small nod and stepped onto the court to warm up with them.
Partway through, Daiki Aomine walked over.
“Miyamoto.”
Miyamoto Tokima turned and smiled.
“Daiki.”
Aomine smirked.
“Miyamoto, I’ve been looking forward to this game for a long time!”
Miyamoto Tokima smiled back.
“Me too. I’ve prepared a few gifts for you this match.”
Daiki Aomine blinked.
Gifts? In a game?
How did those two even go together?
But that wasn’t the urgent matter.
He quickly grabbed Miyamoto Tokima and pulled him aside, lowering his voice.
“Miyamoto, that foreigner on your team—did you bring him in?”
Miyamoto Tokima nodded seriously.
“Yeah. Nijimura-senpai and I met him in the States. His name’s Dicky Anthony.”
Aomine still looked doubtful.
“He’s not some kind of terrorist, right?”
Miyamoto Tokima chuckled.
“Daiki, you’re calling my player a terrorist?”
Realizing he’d jumped to conclusions, Aomine laughed awkwardly.
“No, no, forget it. Let’s warm up.”
With that, he hurried off, looking like he’d just been exposed.
Miyamoto Tokima smiled faintly.
Amateur.
“Tokima-san.”
Dicky Anthony’s voice suddenly rang out.
Miyamoto Tokima turned.
“What is it?”
Dicky Anthony took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his chest.
“I want the first quarter.”
Miyamoto Tokima’s lips curved slightly.
He had expected this—but he hadn’t expected Dicky Anthony to lose patience so quickly.
He had long known that Dicky Anthony hated being toyed with, and Aomine’s earlier attitude was no different from that.
He’d anticipated Dicky Anthony would be angry the moment he saw Aomine, which was why he originally arranged for him to explode in the third quarter.
But clearly, Dicky Anthony couldn’t hold back at all.
Still, it didn’t matter. Aomine would face him sooner or later. A few quarters earlier made no real difference.
“Fine,” Miyamoto Tokima said. “The first quarter is yours.”
Dicky Anthony nodded and turned to continue warming up.
Miyamoto Tokima’s original plan had been simple: four quarters, four challengers.
First quarter: Atsushi Murasakibara.
Second quarter: Miyamoto Tokima.
Third quarter: Dicky Anthony.
Fourth quarter: Shuzo Nijimura.
He wanted Aomine to experience completely different types of pressure.
Murasakibara represented overwhelming physical dominance.
Miyamoto Tokima represented technique and coordination.
Dicky Anthony represented shooting ability and raw talent.
Shuzo Nijimura represented experience and… the “Door.”
(Nijimura’s in-game experience had grown far beyond normal due to constant matches with the Black Dragon team and one-on-one battles against players like Jason Silver. No complaints.)
Miyamoto Tokima intended to use this method to push Aomine’s growth as fast as possible.
Although Aomine was already far stronger than in the original storyline, in Miyamoto’s eyes, it still wasn’t enough.
Forget the professional level—right now, even if you sent him to face some of America’s top streetball players, he wouldn’t win.
In the stands, other schools had already noticed the changes in Kirisaki Daiichi’s lineup.
When they realized that Atsushi Murasakibara—one of the “Generation of Miracles”—had joined Kirisaki Daiichi, panic spread instantly.
Their lineup had already been outrageous before.
Now it was downright absurd.
If the old Kirisaki Daiichi was a battleship, then the current one was a space battleship.
Even Shutoku’s Shintaro Midorima felt an unprecedented sense of pressure.
..........
On the court.
After warming up, both teams gathered at center court. Following a brief exchange of courtesy, the game was ready to begin.
Kirisaki Daiichi’s lineup:
Center — Atsushi Murasakibara
Power Forward — Shuzo Nijimura
Small Forward — Shogo Haizaki
Shooting Guard — Dicky Anthony
Point Guard — Miyamoto Tokima
Tōō’s lineup:
Center — Kosuke Wakamatsu
Power Forward — Daiki Aomine
Small Forward — Yoshinori Susa
Shooting Guard — Ryo Sakurai
Point Guard — Shoichi Imayoshi
Kosuke Wakamatsu swallowed hard as he stepped into the jump circle.
He was nervous.
Kirisaki Daiichi’s roster was already monstrous. He had expected to jump against Kentaro Seto.
Who would’ve thought that in just a few days, they’d suddenly added two giants?
And now those two giants weren’t even taking him seriously—they were playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who would jump.
Dicky Anthony and Atsushi Murasakibara faced off in rock-paper-scissors.
In the end, Dicky Anthony won.
He grinned and walked to the circle.
Wakamatsu stared at the white player in front of him—lip ring, tattoos covering his body—and swallowed again.
Are we sure he’s not a terrorist?
It wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Dicky Anthony’s tattoos were so extensive they gave off a distinctly menacing aura.
Even Aomine had thought the same the first time he saw him.
The referee didn’t care about any of that. Standing between them, he tossed the ball into the air.
Both players jumped.
The difference was obvious.
Dicky Anthony soared far higher, easily tipping the ball back to his own half.
Miyamoto Tokima caught it and flashed Aomine a faint smile.
“Daiki, get ready.”
In the stands, the crowd erupted into chatter.
“It’s starting! It’s starting!”
“Ahhh! Tokima-god is playing point guard! I haven’t seen Tokima-god run point in forever!”
“What do I do?! I’m going to faint!”
..........
Chapter 193: A Gift for You
On the court.
Miyamoto didn’t push the pace. Instead, he dribbled the ball slowly across half court.
Daiki Aomine immediately stepped up to defend.
“Miyamoto, bring it!”
Miyamoto smiled faintly.
“No rush.”
With that, he pushed the ball forward with both hands, sending it to Dicky Anthony, who was waiting beyond the three-point line.
Kosuke Wakamatsu was completely thrown off.
Isn’t that foreigner a center? Why is he attacking from outside the arc?
After catching the ball, Dicky Anthony slowly dribbled toward Miyamoto. Miyamoto moved in sync, quickly setting a screen that sealed Wakamatsu off.
Wakamatsu grew even more confused.
What the hell? That foreigner is going at Aomine?
Aomine also sensed what Miyamoto was planning and frowned.
“Miyamoto, what’s this supposed to mean?”
Miyamoto gave him a calm smile.
“Daiki, this is the first gift I prepared for you. Enjoy it.”
Aomine blinked, still not following.
“What are you talking about? Say it clearly. Don’t play riddles with me!”
Miyamoto shrugged with a grin.
“I’m not telling. Figure it out yourself.”
With that, he ignored Aomine completely.
Left with no choice, Aomine turned his attention to Dicky Anthony, who was preparing to attack.
Damn it. Miyamoto’s acting mysterious again. Guess I’ll just take it head-on.
Even though he didn’t understand, since it was something Miyamoto had prepared for him, he was determined to experience it properly.
After all… he was the one who brought him Maki photos every single day…
Dicky Anthony’s expression looked strange—like he was furious but holding it in.
“Ready?” (English)
Aomine paused for a second, then nodded. He understood.
He lowered his center of gravity, bracing himself for a sudden drive. Dicky Anthony might be tall, but Aomine knew his speed wasn’t slow at all.
When Aomine had tried to shake him off earlier, Dicky Anthony had kept up without any trouble.
Just as Aomine prepared for the drive, Dicky Anthony moved.
He gathered the ball with both hands and sprang straight up.
Aomine froze.
What the hell? A two-meter guy pulling up for a jumper? Aren’t you supposed to be a center?
He knew it was too late to contest, so he didn’t even bother jumping.
Dicky Anthony released the shot effortlessly.
Aomine turned his head to track the ball.
In the stands.
On Shutoku’s side.
As soon as Dicky Anthony let it fly, Shintaro Midorima spoke without hesitation.
“Perfect trajectory. It’s in.”
Right after he said it, the ball dropped cleanly through the net.
The entire gym was stunned.
In the stands.
Taiga Kagami looked utterly confused.
“Isn’t he a center? Why’s he shooting like that?!”
Junpei Hyuga’s expression turned serious.
“As a shooter, I can say this for sure—that foreigner is absolutely not a center.”
“And his biggest weapon is definitely his shooting.”
On Shutoku’s side, Kazunari Takao asked in disbelief:
“Seriously? Midorima, with that height, he’s really a shooter and not a center?”
Midorima nodded firmly.
“Yes. I’m certain. His form is smooth, natural, and confident.”
“No one who hasn’t trained their shot for years can shoot like that.”
“So I can guarantee it—he’s a shooter.”
On Kaijō’s side.
“You’ve got to be kidding. That height and he’s not a center?”
Yukio Kasamatsu found it hard to accept. A two-meter-tall shooter—how do you even defend that?
Ryota Kise’s expression grew serious. He pointed toward Atsushi Murasakibara on the court.
“You might not believe it, Senpai, but look—we already have a center out there. Murasakibara.”
Everyone froze.
They had instinctively labeled Dicky Anthony as a center the moment they saw his height.
On the court.
Aomine had realized it too. This foreigner wasn’t a center at all—he was a shooter.
Shoichi Imayoshi stared at Dicky Anthony and muttered,
“This is troublesome. With that kind of height, how are we supposed to deal with him?”
Possession changed.
Imayoshi didn’t hesitate and immediately passed the ball to Aomine.
What else could he do? Miyamoto was guarding him. Trying to attack himself would just be asking for trouble.
Better leave it to the ace.
The moment Aomine caught the ball, Dicky Anthony closed in.
They squared off at the arc, the air between them thick with tension.
Aomine’s face turned serious as he gave a slight shoulder feint.
Dicky Anthony didn’t react at all, as if he hadn’t even seen it.
Aomine narrowed his eyes, then suddenly drove hard.
His first step was explosive, and he blew past Dicky Anthony almost instantly.
But Dicky Anthony reacted quickly, recovering to cut off the lane and prevent him from getting deep inside.
Even so, Aomine’s speed was overwhelming. Dicky Anthony remained half a step behind.
As Aomine entered the paint, Murasakibara rotated over to help.
Aomine clenched his teeth, thoughts racing.
He was trapped—no way back.
It came down to two options: force the shot or pass.
But would Aomine pass?
Obviously not.
He chose to attack.
But even forcing it had variations. This time, he decided on something unexpected.
Without slowing down in the slightest, Aomine leaped.
Murasakibara and Dicky Anthony jumped at the same time, both aiming to block him.
In the stands, Kagami’s eyes widened.
“No way! He’s still forcing it in this situation? There’s no way that’s going in!”
On the court.
After taking off, Aomine didn’t shoot.
Instead, he kept drifting—flying behind the backboard, heading out of bounds.
Murasakibara had no choice. From behind the backboard, there was no angle to block, so he withdrew his hand.
The Seirin players were completely dumbfounded.
Was Aomine… giving up?
Just when everyone thought he had abandoned the play—
Something unbelievable happened.
From behind the backboard, Aomine flicked the ball upward with his right hand.
The basketball rose straight up from behind the board—
Then arced over it—
And dropped cleanly through the hoop.
In the stands, Kagami’s mouth fell open.
“H-How… is that even possible?”
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