The players from Kaisei Middle School were on the verge of collapse.
Their coach hadn't sat down once since the game began, constantly yelling from the sideline.
But it was all for nothing.
Faced with the overwhelming power of Teikō, they were getting steamrolled like elementary schoolers.
At this point, people couldn't help but recall the reports Jūn Kubo had written previously.
There was no need to wait for the future—Tendou Kageyoshi had already become a star-level player.
Just look at him now: all the audience's attention was fixed on him. Every move he made tugged at the hearts of fans.
Of course, he was also the most hated person among the Kaisei boys.
The uniformed black-clad supporters of Kaisei Middle looked as if they could chew nails as they glared at Tendou Kageyoshi.
Amanai Riko had also come to the stadium today to cheer him on.
Seeing a group of squealing girls nearby practically leaking over Tendou, her eyes twitched into little dots.
"He's just like that Gojo guy."
Same cocky attitude. Same flamboyance. Same confidence. Same punchable face!
Strangely, the more she saw those girls scream, the more annoyed she became.
"He's really amazing, Tendou-kun!" Kuroko, beside her, said sincerely—only to be instantly roasted by Riko's ruthless sarcasm.
She retorted, "Of course he is. He's basically playing against five Kuroko Tetsuyas."
"Amanai-san, I don't think I've done anything to offend you…"
With a heavy snort in the direction of the screaming girls, she acted like she hadn't heard him and continued watching the game.
Meanwhile, the bullet comments had long since exploded with laughter:
『Kuroko: It's over… I've become a unit of measurement!』
『This is definitely jealousy. So cute!』
『Poor Kuroko. Every episode, he gets roasted by Riko!』
『But Tendou is just too damn cool. Is this really Kuroko's Basketball: The Prequel? Or is it Tendou's Basketball: The Legend Begins?』
『Not just cool—he's strong! Didn't you see that high school coach eyeing him?』
Kaisei had already realized their fate would be no different than last year.
They were going to lose to Teikō again and be eliminated from the tournament for the second year in a row.
Even worse, both times they were knocked out by first-years from Teikō.
Last year it was Nijimura Shūzō. This year, it was Tendou Kageyoshi.
Even their coach began to doubt himself. He had never encountered a player like Tendou—someone who couldn't even be stopped by fouls.
Don't foul? He scores at will.
Foul him? He just turns it into a 2+1.
This wasn't a tactical problem—it was a death sentence.
Even Shirogane Kōzō hadn't expected Tendou to be this outstanding.
Nominally a small forward, Tendou's on-court presence made his position feel undefined.
He could orchestrate the offense like Akashi, slash and score like Aomine, and shoot threes like Midorima. On top of that, his defense was absurd.
A true all-rounder—more versatile than even Nijimura.
His soft shooting touch, incredible body control, and strong physicality ensured he scored in every match. His deadly three-point range gave him greater scoring bursts than Aomine.
Even Shirogane didn't know how to coach someone —he was too complete for a first-year.
The rest of the match saw Kaisei fighting hard, showing admirable resilience—but to spectators, it looked more like a desperate struggle.
They began missing wide-open shots and making surprising errors.
Like ants on a hot pan, they had all the passion, but none of the execution to launch a comeback.
With five minutes left in the game, Tendou drove hard at Ichize Junjin. Near the rim, he came to a sudden stop.
That abrupt stop sent Ichize flying, crashing to the floor.
Tendou calmly sank a jump shot.
Shirogane clapped his hands and subbed Tendou out.
As he walked off, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause.
Tendou played 29 minutes, scoring a game-high 38 points, along with 8 steals and 4 assists.
Sure, that wasn't as flashy as Rukawa Kaede's 50+, but this wasn't Shūtoku. This was Teikō.
They had too many scorers. If Tendou had played selfishly, he could've easily dropped 60+.
In the end, Shirogane called off the wolves early.
And in Teikō's case, subbing out a first-year like Tendou and bringing in a seasoned third-year was calling off the wolves.
Even so, Teikō cruised to a 120–62 victory. A stunning 58-point blowout.
A very special number.
Wait, the Nets just lost by 59?
Please, my Chris Paul lost by 58—in the playoffs! You can't compare that to a regular season game!
『Damn, there's a Kuroko everywhere!』
『Paul's gonna punch your kidneys, bro!』
『Warning! CP3 punch incoming!』
『Man, I'm tired. Being a Paul fan, even anime brings trauma!』
『Stop pretending. I saw you hyping Rondo as the GOAT PG in his highlight reel the other day!』
『Enough! All y'all snakes can go die!』
Tendou Kageyoshi swore to the heavens—he didn't do it on purpose.
He wouldn't dare provoke CP3. The man who'd rather lose than win without an FMVP? Truly unmatched!
At the postgame handshake, Tendou could feel the opponent's hand trembling.
The cruelty of the national tournament started right here.
A year's worth of effort, erased in forty minutes.
For someone who truly loves the game, this was a devastating blow.
As he pulled his hand away, Ichize suddenly gripped it tightly.
Tendou looked at him, puzzled, only to see tears in the guy's eyes. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs NoveI(F)ire.net
Just as he thought the guy might try to settle things with fists, Ichize shouted:
"Make sure you win the championship, Tendou!"
Tendou thought the line was a bit cliché—but inside, he couldn't help but feel fired up.
He replied, "You got it. Just tell people you only lost to the future champions!"
Inspired by the moment, the crowd echoed the chant—"Gana!"—as they sent Kaisei off the court.
Vote with some power stones in this story. By using them on this book, you guarantee bonus chapters weekly.