The cheers in the gymnasium had not yet subsided, and the 10:3 score on the scoreboard was particularly striking.
Gu Jin raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Fujima walked up to him, panting, and extended his hand, "I lost!" Fujima's expression was sincere; he was thoroughly convinced by such a strong opponent.
His voice was hoarse from the game, but there was no defeat in his eyes, only recognition of a superior player. "Your defense is indeed the most impregnable I've ever seen."
Gu Jin clasped his hand, feeling the warmth of the other's palm when their fingertips touched. "1v1 limited your abilities, and a power forward singles out a guard; this matchup already gave me an advantage."
Fujima smiled and turned to walk towards the Shoyo team.
Hanagata Toru and his teammates immediately surrounded him. No one offered words of comfort; they simply patted his back—managing to score 3 points against Gu Jin was already a proud achievement.
The second semi-final match quickly began.
Sendoh Akira against Akagi Takenori, this 'agility versus strength' showdown was equally captivating.
Sendoh scored continuously with endless fakes and accurate mid-range and long-range shots, while Akagi repeatedly succeeded with overpowering post-up plays under the basket.
Ultimately, Sendoh ended the battle 10:5, leaving the spectators on the sidelines wanting more.
Before the highly anticipated final, the referee suddenly announced, "Player Sendoh has forfeited due to personal reasons. Player Gu Jin is the champion of this year's Public Welfare Cup individual competition!"
The entire venue erupted in an uproar.
Sendoh stood at the entrance of the player's tunnel, waving at Gu Jin on the court, a familiar, nonchalant smile on his face.
"Why did you forfeit?" Gu Jin's tone carried an unidentifiable hint of questioning.
Sendoh looked up, his expression utterly natural. "I can't beat you in 1v1. I lose every practice game, so why lose again in front of so many people?" He raised an eyebrow, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Don't I have any pride?"
Gu Jin frowned. "Winning and losing are part of the game."
"But there's no need to lose so badly," Sendoh shrugged, then suddenly smiled, a hint of slyness flashing in his eyes. "Besides, if I forfeit, everyone will just think—'Look how united Ryonan is; Sendoh is even willing to give up an honor for his teammate, not caring about this bit of fame or fortune.' Coach Taoka might even think I'm deeply principled."
Gu Jin stared at him for three seconds, finally squeezing out two words from his throat: "Speechless." Then he turned and walked away.
Sendoh's laughter came from behind him: "Hey, Gu Jin, touched, aren't you? Treat me to ramen tonight."
Gu Jin didn't stop, but the corners of his mouth subtly curled up—this person's twisted logic always left him exasperated and helpless.
However, the invisible bond between them grew deeper, and that feeling was truly good.
During the award ceremony, as Gu Jin accepted the championship trophy, his gaze swept across the stands, finally settling on Ryonan's direction.
Taoka Moichi nodded with a stern face, but his eyes couldn't hide his satisfaction.
After the award ceremony, the host took the microphone and stepped onto the court: "Next, we will begin a brand new segment of the Public Welfare Cup—the 3v3 Charity Challenge!
Now, I invite all players who advanced from the first round of the individual competition to come to the front and form random teams through a draw!"
The names of the top thirty-three players scrolled across the large screen. As the host pressed the stop button, teams were freshly formed.
The first few confirmed lineups instantly caused an uproar on the sidelines—
First group: Gu Jin, Uozumi Jun, Godai Tomokazu.
Tsukubu's starting guard, Godai Tomokazu, was known for his precise three-pointers and calm passing. Paired with Gu Jin's all-around offense and defense and Uozumi's dominance under the basket, this was a 'iron triangle' configuration.
This made the audience shout "Cheating!!!"
When Uozumi saw his teammates' names, a rare smile appeared on his wrinkled face, and he proactively extended a fist to Gu Jin: "Great, we're on the same team."
Second group: Sendoh Akira, Fujima Kenji, Naito Tetsuya.
Two top-tier point guards plus a 196 cm tall 'tank' center. With Fujima's ball-handling and organization, Sendoh could specialize as a small forward. Their teamwork was enough to activate Naito's impact, and their offensive and defensive transition speed was terrifying.
Sendoh and Fujima exchanged glances. The former raised an eyebrow and lightly smiled, while the latter nodded in acknowledgment, creating a subtle yet harmonious atmosphere.
Maki Shinichi, Kogure Kiminobu, Hasegawa Kazushi.
Kainan's 'Emperor' paired with Shohoku's 'persistent shooter' and Shoyo's 'defensive specialist.' Maki Shinichi's drive and dish could accurately feed Kogure for open three-pointers, and Hasegawa's tight defense was an added bonus, maximizing their team synergy.
Third group: Hanagata Toru, Koshino Hiroaki, Rukawa Kaede.
Hanagata's facilitating ability could create space for Koshino's fast breaks and Rukawa Kaede's isolation plays. However, with three offense-oriented players grouped together, the defensive end would likely require some careful thought.
Koshino was already jumping with excitement: "Hanagata, Rukawa Kaede, let's have a great collaboration!" Hanagata Toru nodded, while Rukawa Kaede merely gave him a faint glance, saying nothing but quietly flexing his wrists.
In comparison, the other teams seemed somewhat 'filler': some had three guards crammed into one group, leaving the paint completely open;
Some were all interior players, without even one person who could dribble past half-court;
Others had severe position overlaps, and just allocating ball possession would lead to arguments for half the day.
Especially absurd was Mike Okita. This biracial student had just shown a glimpse of his explosiveness in the individual competition, only to draw two forwards who couldn't even grasp a basic zone defense.
Those two were typically streetball players, which infuriated him. He estimated they would stumble even with basic pick-and-roll plays. Mike Okita stood with his arms crossed, his brows furrowed under his blonde hair so tightly they could kill a mosquito, probably filled with thoughts of 'How are we going to play this game?'
Even more incredible was Akagi Takenori's group.
When the screen flashed the three names—"Akagi Takenori, Sugadaira, Kosha Kazuma"—the entire venue fell silent. Three pure traditional centers, with an average height exceeding 190 cm, could tightly block the paint if they stood under the basket. But in a 3v3 game, there wasn't even one person who could dribble or pass the ball.
Akagi clenched his fists, a vein throbbing on his forehead. He looked at Sugadaira and Takasago, who both wore equally solemn expressions. The three exchanged glances, and an awkward silence about "who would handle the ball" filled the air.
Finally, Akagi spoke first, his voice stiff: "Sugadaira will handle the ball... I'll facilitate."
Sugadaira and Takasago exchanged glances and silently nodded.
It was likely that this group's upcoming training would mostly start with "How a center doesn't lose the ball."
After the draw, the schedule was immediately announced: in two days, the first match would be between Gu Jin's team and Maki Shinichi's team.
Gu Jin looked at the schedule, unconsciously tapping his knee with his fingertips.
Maki Shinichi's impact, Kogure's three-pointers, Hasegawa's defense—the opponents were not weak.
Meanwhile, Maki Shinichi was staring at Gu Jin's name on the big screen, his gaze sharp as an eagle: "The 3v3 court won't be as easy for you as 1v1."
The showdown in two days was destined to be another tough battle.