The second quarter began, and right out of the gate, Tendou intercepted Seirin's pass.
Mizugame immediately sat up straight.
After waiting so long, the real action was finally starting.
It was just like watching a slow-paced romantic drama, where the lead couple dances around each other for ages—and then finally, they get to the point.
Mizugame instantly snapped to attention.
Tendou snatched the ball, and with Kagami defending him, took a clean and decisive step to blow past him.
That sharp movement, enhanced by the production team's special effects, was nothing short of divine.
First came a slow-motion shot to show every detail of Tendou's move—then, right at the climax, the footage sped up dramatically.
It felt like a crucial frame had been cut out, and when Kagami's pupils dilated in shock, viewers were left with goosebumps.
As Mizugame put it—this was the power of budget.
Then it was Kagami's turn on offense—he wanted to return the favor.
Mizugame quickly opened the comment feed to see if it had already appeared—and sure enough, there it was: the classic, "Don't go, that white-haired guy's the final boss."
He also prepped his own "Cleave" comment and hit send the moment the screen went black.
New viewers had no idea what was going on—one second they were watching the match, and the next, the entire screen was flooded with "Cleave" comments, making it impossible to see what happened. They had to turn off the comments and rewind.
This time, they caught it—backed by Tendou's deep, magnetic voice and an overpowering soundtrack, Kagami's offensive attempt was completely shut down in a single second.
This was nothing like the Kaijō or Shūtoku matches. The Kirisaki Daiichi match oozed with high production value.
And all of that attention was focused entirely on Tendou. The art direction even felt different—almost like it came from a completely different anime. Content originally comes from novel⚑fire.net
His lightning-quick movements were portrayed with stunning impact.
If players like Kise were Toyota, then Tendou was Ferrari.
The difference was that stark.
"Now that I think about it, we haven't really faced off before, have we?"
"Even during team scrimmages, we were still teammates."
"Is that so? Then try to defeat me, Kuroko."
From that line onward, Tendou sprang into action.
His presence, his movement—completely different from everyone else on the court, including Kagami.
The audience could clearly see the trail of sweat left in midair as he blew past Kuroko.
The sense of speed in that moment felt like an explosion.
But it didn't stop there. Tendou charged forward, right into a pincer attack from Hyūga Junpei and Izuki Shun—and still accelerated.
His Six Eyes sparkled like a constellation.
The screen suddenly switched to black and white, as if tracing over the original animation frame by frame.
Under the stunned gazes of Hyūga and Izuki, Tendou broke through their double-team with movements so simple they were elegant, yet as fast as lightning.
That was the general reaction from the audience. Everyone was left speechless.
In that moment, the power scaling in Kuroko no Basket reached a new level in viewers' eyes.
Tendou had forcibly elevated the entire series' standard.
And the most immediate impact?
Back at home, the real-life Tendou's "attraction value" rating was skyrocketing nonstop.
Back in the anime, Tendou drove straight into the paint, drew a foul from Kagami, and completed a three-point play.
"Kuroko's misdirection technique can be extended—but only if his partner is strong enough."
"How unfortunate, Kagami Taiga. Your light is far too dim."
There was no deeper reason—viewers just loved a good overpowered character.
It might've been a little chūni (cringe-worthy), but that's the exact flavor anime fans love. If it's not a little over-the-top, what's the point?
Naturally, this piqued everyone's curiosity about Tendou's eyes.
Before he even started showing off, the animation had already given a full three-second close-up on his Six Eyes.
This was a job for professional lore-explainers like Midorima.
"Six Eyes," Kise replied to his captain, explaining what he knew about the ability.
"Seriously? Abilities like that shouldn't even exist in the same universe."
Kise sighed and added, "To be honest, I don't think Tendou ever wanted that ability."
And with that, the show transitioned into a flashback explaining how Tendou awakened his Six Eyes.
Kasamatsu Yukio was visibly stunned. "That really happened?"
The scene shifted to Yōsen.
Murasakibara paused his snacking, looking a little sad. "Ten-chan said it was a curse."
Himuro Tatsuya asked, "What kind of curse?"
Murasakibara didn't answer—because the show let someone else respond instead.
As the sun rose, Amanai Riko—her life nearing its end—smiled at him and said, "Kageyoshi, you must become the strongest."
The next second, the comment feed exploded again.
『Damn it—another emotional gut-punch!』
『Why do you keep making me relive this pain, production team?!』
『I already saved money for their wedding. I was ready to buy commemorative merch!』
『I bawled like a baby…』
Longtime viewers couldn't hold it in. Even new fans were getting emotional.
So that's why Tendou was so obsessed with becoming the strongest?
For a moment, even Kuroko's fans, overwhelmed by emotion, softened toward Tendou.
The anime then shifted to the Shirogane family.
Tendou's family asked Shirogane Kōzō, "Why did you choose this child to be part of Japan's basketball future?"
Shirogane didn't answer right away—the flashback cut in again.
The audience immediately fell silent. They were used to the production team lovingly inserting these lore-rich backstories for their "favorite son."
The screen showed Tendou as a baby—opening his eyes for the very first time.
His parents gasped, "Wow, such beautiful eyes… They shine like something from a divine painting…"
"With eyes that beautiful, he'll surely see things we can't even imagine."
Then the scene cut again.
A shot of a grade school gym. A ten-year-old boy laughed after hearing the coach say they'd be playing against younger kids.
"You want us to play against a bunch of little brats? And take it seriously?"
The kid figured their coach must be senile.
A six- or seven-year-old Tendou stood with a cold expression, silently looking down the opposing players.
One of them opened his mouth but froze—Tendou's gaze seemed to have some kind of power, making it impossible to speak.
The camera then flashed to the moment Tendou joined the team and took off his sunglasses for the first time, revealing his eyes.
Only then did Shirogane Kōzō speak.
"Because of his eyes. The first time I saw them, I knew this child would be unlike anyone else."
"He has the potential to become the strongest—and moving forward, our basketball world needs someone who can see the path ahead."
The flashback ended quickly, but the closing image of young Tendou left an impression:
"What are you looking at, you little punk?!"