The whistle on the court blew several times, and the score kept climbing in the back-and-forth offense and defense.
With 3 minutes left in the first half, the scoreboard showed 46:42—Ryonan was still leading by 4 points.
On Sannoh's bench, Goro Domoto stared at Masahiro Nobe, who was bent over, gasping for air, and finally raised his hand to signal a substitution.
As Nobe shuffled off the court, he almost had to lean on the advertising board to steady himself—Sakuragi Hanamichi had been like a tireless cannonball, crashing into him during rebounds, leaving his waist stiff and his energy almost completely drained.
A massive figure replaced him on the court.
As Mikio Kawata stepped onto the court, his two-meter-one height made the area under the basket seem a bit cramped; when he stood in the paint and moved closer to Uozumi, Uozumi instantly looked tiny.
With Sannoh's twin towers squeezed under the basket, Ryonan's inside game suddenly became too narrow to maneuver.
“It’s Kawata’s younger brother!” someone shouted from the stands.
However, as soon as Mikio Kawata came on, he made a serving error, and Ryonan stole the ball.
“Sorry, brother!” Mikio Kawata’s voice was muffled.
“Focus,” Kawata simply said before quickly returning to defense.
On Ryonan’s offense, Sendoh Akira drove to the basket with the ball but was stopped by Mikio Kawata’s arm, which he simply extended—that arm was thicker than Sendoh Akira’s leg.
Sendoh Akira hastily passed the ball to Fukuda, but Fukuda’s shot was slightly off when he jumped, and the ball bounced off the rim.
Masashi Kawata jumped up, grabbed the rebound, and immediately threw it to Fukatsu.
Sannoh’s fast break, Zawa Kita, dribbled to the basket and, facing Gu Jin’s block, gently flicked the ball, which grazed the rim and went in—46:44.
The shot was thrown very high, which made Gu Jin look at him with admiration.
He became even more certain that Zawa Kita Eiji in this Slam Dunk world already had the skill of a professional player in high school.
Ryonan attacked again, this time trying to pass the ball to Uozumi, but Masashi Kawata was behind him, and Mikio Kawata was in front, blocking him, so Uozumi reached for the ball for a long time but couldn't touch it.
Ultimately, Fukuda received the ball and drove, only to be blocked by Masashi Kawata.
Minoru Matsumoto scooped up the ball and rushed to the frontcourt, hitting a steady mid-range shot—46:46.
“It’s tied!” Sannoh’s fans shouted, their voices deafening.
Sakuragi Hanamichi was indignant; this damned big fat guy was hindering his performance.
He really wanted to deliver a big block to Mikio Kawata.
But every time he jumped, Mikio Kawata just stood in place, turned around, and casually brushed him with his elbow, and he couldn't hold his ground.
When Ryonan served, Sakuragi Hanamichi, full of pent-up energy, rushed to the basket, hoping to get an early attack while Mikio Kawata hadn't settled.
But Mikio Kawata was like a stake in the paint; as soon as Sakuragi Hanamichi got close, he just slightly turned his body, and a gentle bump from his broad shoulder sent Sakuragi Hanamichi stumbling back two steps, almost losing his grip on the ball.
And he was called for a traveling violation!
“Damn it!” Sakuragi Hanamichi gritted his teeth, still wanting to charge, but Sendoh Akira pulled him back—Sendoh Akira shook his head, signaling him not to rush into a head-on clash.
Offense and defense switched in an instant.
On Sannoh’s side, Kazunari Fukatsu spotted an opening and safely lobbed the ball to Mikio Kawata under the basket.
This time, Mikio Kawata didn't hesitate; as he caught the ball, he turned his back to Sakuragi Hanamichi, stuck his butt out, and forcefully pushed Sakuragi Hanamichi back three steps with a “thump, thump, thump,” until he hit the stanchion under the backboard.
Immediately after, he turned around and raised his hand to put the ball into the basket—the shot went in, 46:48.
Sakuragi Hanamichi’s arm was numb from the push, and seeing Mikio Kawata’s dull expression, he stomped his foot in anger: “Big fat guy! Do you only know how to crash into people with your body?!”
Mikio Kawata blinked, didn't reply, and just leaned closer to his brother.
Masashi Kawata patted his head, a hint of approval in his eyes.
“Beep—” Taoka Moichi suddenly raised his hand and called a timeout.
While drawing up the strategy, he said to Sakuragi Hanamichi, “Sakuragi Hanamichi, you shouldn’t lose to him.”
Sakuragi Hanamichi stuck out his neck: “But he’s too fat!”
“Fat is a weakness!” Taoka Moichi pointed at Mikio Kawata, who was still standing like a post on the court, “Didn’t you notice? His footwork is as slow as a snail! Besides that half-meter under the basket, he can’t shoot from anywhere else!”
Sakuragi Hanamichi was stunned: “So what?”
“So what?” Taoka Moichi tapped his head with the tactics board, “Don’t be silly and butt heads with him! Let him go to the basket, and when he raises his hand to shoot—” He suddenly made a movement of a side-step and jump, “Avoid his body contact, jump from the side and block him! No matter how long his arms are, his reaction won’t be as fast as yours!”
Sakuragi Hanamichi stared at Mikio Kawata for a few seconds, then suddenly slapped his thigh: “I get it! This genius will go block him with a big pot shot right now!”
When the timeout ended, Sakuragi Hanamichi ran back onto the court, his eyes shining terrifyingly, staring intently at Mikio Kawata.
Mikio Kawata was a bit bewildered by his gaze and instinctively shrank behind Masashi Kawata.
During Ryonan's offensive possession, Gu Jin stood steadily beyond the three-point line.
Zawa Kita Eiji was almost pressed against his back, muttering through gritted teeth: “Don’t even think about shooting this time.”
Gu Jin, however, suddenly let out a low chuckle, and before Zawa Kita Eiji could react, the basketball on his fingertips rapidly twirled between his legs—so fast it was just a blur; as soon as it switched to his left hand, his body already leaned back with the momentum of the dribble.
Zawa Kita Eiji immediately jumped to block, his fingertips almost grazing Gu Jin’s hair, but Gu Jin’s wrist had already flicked lightly.
The basketball flew out in a straight arc.
“A three-pointer?”
Amidst the gasps from the stands, it swished into the basket.
49:48.
There were 20 seconds left in the first half.
As Gu Jin landed, he tilted his head and glanced at Zawa Kita Eiji, a slight smile still on his lips: Japan's number one high school player?
Zawa Kita Eiji’s face instantly flushed, and he clenched his fists, wanting to charge forward, but Fukatsu pulled him back.
Sannoh’s last attack.
As Kazunari Fukatsu dribbled past half-court, Sendoh Akira clung to him like a plaster, his fingertips occasionally brushing against his dribbling hand.
Fukatsu hunched his back, changing directions left and right, his feet almost blurring from the effort, until he barely squeezed out half an opening along the sideline, then flicked his wrist to lob the ball under the basket—to Mikio Kawata.
Mikio Kawata received the ball as usual, his back to the basket, intending to push his way in.
Sakuragi Hanamichi didn't resist this time, taking a step back, intentionally giving him half a step as Taoka Moichi had instructed.
Mikio Kawata thought he had succeeded and turned around to lay up the ball.
At that moment, Sakuragi Hanamichi suddenly side-stepped and rushed forward!
But he jumped too eagerly and forcefully, losing his footing, his body tilting forward, unable to stop—Mikio Kawata had just raised the ball to the rim when he felt a sudden weight on his neck; Sakuragi Hanamichi completely “thumped” onto him, and the two fell to the floor, the basketball rolling out of bounds.
“Beep—Defensive foul!” The referee’s whistle blew immediately.
Taoka Moichi, off the court, covered his forehead, sighing helplessly: “This guy… I taught him to block, not to ride people!”
Sakuragi Hanamichi, still lying on Mikio Kawata’s back, was unconvincing, turning his head to shout: “Referee! I just jumped higher…”
Mikio Kawata grunted, muffled by the weight, and said in a thick voice: “You clearly rode on top of me.”
Masashi Kawata frowned, pulled the two apart, and Mikio Kawata, rubbing his neck, stood at the free-throw line.
But perhaps he was still dazed from the fall; his first free throw was wildly off, hitting the rim and bouncing out; his second free throw was even worse, flying directly out of bounds after grazing the net.
Sakuragi Hanamichi clapped and laughed from below: “Big fat guy! You can’t even shoot free throws!”
Before Mikio Kawata could retort, the whistle for halftime suddenly blew.
First half ended.
The scoreboard stopped at 49:48, Ryonan leading by 1 point.
Sakuragi Hanamichi skipped towards the bench, not forgetting to turn back and make a funny face at Mikio Kawata: This genius will definitely block you next time! Mikio Kawata stood in place, tugging at his brother’s sleeve, feeling wronged: Brother, he’s bullying me.
Masashi Kawata didn’t speak, only looked up towards Ryonan’s side—Gu Jin was high-fiving Sendoh Akira, Uozumi was breathing heavily with his hands on his hips; he clenched his fist, and the light in his eyes deepened.