A voice devoid of emotion exploded in Hayama's ear like a crack of thunder.
The next second, his hands were empty—the ball ripped away from him by brute force.
He didn't even have time to react.
It wasn't a spell or some kind of freeze effect—he simply couldn't keep up.
Tendou was just too fast.
Nijimura Shūzō once again launched a quarterback-style long pass.
As the ball bounced up just past the three-point line, Tendou was already there, scooping it up and securing possession.
Hayama Kotarō was right on his tail.
Back-to-back possessions getting blown up ? As the so-called "Thunder Beast," how was he supposed to save face?
He burst forward, accelerating into Tendou's path.
There was something dangerous in his aura—a sense that made Tendou feel like he was being stalked by a predator.
But not the kind of predator you'd find in a zoo—this was different. This was primal.
"So this is Wild Instinct?"
Hayama wasn't surprised. He'd faced Teikō before last year—no doubt they'd figured him out.
Then again, what could they do? Wild Instinct wasn't something that could be taught. You either had it, or you didn't.
Even Nijimura, hailed as the best power forward in the country, didn't have it.
So fine—know it all you want. Doesn't change the outcome.
"I'm guessing it was Nijimura who told you, yeah?" Hayama asked.
"You're the first person who's ever forced me to go all-out this fast."
When Wild Instinct kicks in, that means Hayama is entering full throttle—no holding back.
"Then I really should thank you," Tendou replied. "You helped me discover a new way to use Cleave."
Instead of attacking right away, Tendou pulled up at the three-point line.
Both teams had now fallen back into a half-court setup.
Nijimura moved to screen for him again, but Tendou waved him off.
This was the privilege of being the ace—as long as the coach didn't call timeout, Tendou could do what he wanted.
"Too reckless," the assistant coach muttered. "He shouldn't be so fixated on beating Hayama one-on-one."
Anyone who watched Animal Planet knew how wild animals operated—their instincts, aggression, hyper-alertness... It wasn't something humans could match.
"Should we call timeout? Warn him about Wild Instinct?"
"Let him go," Coach Shirogane said, arms crossed.
He'd seen something in Tendou's eyes—not fear, but excitement.
The kid was treating Hayama like a new toy he'd just unwrapped.
Back on the court, Teikō had cleared out.
As long as the coach didn't stop it, Tendou had full license to go one-on-one.
"Just a steal, right? What new 'application' could it possibly have?" Hayama wasn't impressed.
Tendou's body disappeared.
Spectators' eyes widened.
What did they just see?
Or rather—what did they NOT see?
All they heard was a dull thud from the ball hitting the hardwood. Then—Tendou was already at Hayama's side.
Hayama whipped his head around—Tendou was now sprinting beside him.
Even with Wild Instinct active, he'd been passed in a single step.
Mid-range jumper—nothing but net.
"So… who's faster, Thunder Beast?" Tendou asked on his way back.
Hayama couldn't respond.
Everything had happened so fast—his brain hadn't caught up.
Now that he'd cooled down a bit, he finally realized what had happened.
Tendou had beaten him with his own weapon.
"Wait… was that Lightning Dribble?"
"Does Tendou know it too?"
The assistant coach was stunned.
"No," Shirogane replied. "That wasn't Lightning Dribble." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novｅlfire.net
Hayama's technique was actually finger-tip dribbling, which had been covered in previous books—no need to recycle explanations.
"Tendou's just... that fast. Like, stupid fast."
"His dribbling is now just as fast as his steal timing."
That was Tendou's "other application" of Cleave: not just steals—but dribbling.
Honestly, they should've seen it coming. His absurd steal speed could obviously be used in other ways too.
But it wasn't just the coaching staff that was shaken—the audience was freaking out.
With the show's editing and sound effects, Tendou's movement didn't have the thunderous boom of Hayama's, but it had something worse:
All they heard was a shing!—then Tendou appeared at Hayama's flank.
It felt like they'd missed a frame of animation.
『Yup, that's it—he's cheating.』
『Bro just teleported, don't gaslight me.』
『HELLO? Clippers scout? Lakers? Can we please sign this freak already??』
『This isn't just breaking the rules. He made a new one. Haizaki's "Pillage" ain't got nothin' on him!』
『Exactly—Haizaki steals. Tendou creates.』
『Honestly, I wouldn't play with this dude either. He's too OP.』
『You've got it backwards—he wouldn't play with us trash.』
『Okay that one hurt.』
『Fine, bench me then. But I'm still smashing that Like + Subscribe + Notification bell combo on him.』
Yamagata called timeout.
Things were spiraling out of control.
In their original plan, best-case scenario was Hayama giving Tendou a wake-up call, punching Teikō in the mouth.
Worst case? A head-to-head where they each exploded equally—then it would come down to resilience, adaptability, willpower.
They were getting smacked.
Their Thunder Beast had just been walked like a dog.