Facing Rikuya-senpai's team was a challenge on another level.
We both had giants—but mine was still in the making. Yuto might have size, but he lacked experience. Meanwhile, Rikuya was already a titan. A finished product. A walking fortress. If he stayed parked in the paint, we wouldn't be able to breathe, let alone score.
If we wanted any chance of winning… I had to drag him out.
Force the titan to come to the perimeter.
Because no matter how great your defensive presence is—if I can pull you away from your throne, you lose your crown.
[Skill Activated: Synergy Vision Lv.2]
The court lit up in my vision—angles, player tendencies, soft zones. I called Echo instantly.
"Echo, open Hiroki Andou's profile."
[Echo Open]
• Name: Hiroki Andou
• Height: 164 cm
• Weight: 63 kg
• Skills:
– Fundamentals Lv.1 – Solid base in dribbling, passing, and shooting form.
– Defensive Stance Lv.1 – Maintains proper positioning and footwork on defense.
" echo let me see one of his shooting attribute"
• Shooting
Mid-Range: 25/100
Three-Point: 15/100
Free Throw: 50 /100
Unique Shot: 2/100
...
Yikes.
Those numbers were bad.
But not zero.
I'd worked with worse.
Confidence can sometimes do more than stats.
If I could create the space, if I could get him moving without thinking… he could hit those.
He had to.
"Yuto-san. Hiroki-san."
Both turned, stiff and awkward, like NPCs glitched mid-animation.
"Y-Yes!"
"P-Please take care of us!"
God.
They looked like they'd been told to fight the final boss with cardboard swords.
I smiled. Friendly. Light.
"Relax. I'm Dirga. Just another first-year. Even shorter than both of you."
Still tense.
Okay.
Time for Leader Dirga.
"It's okay to lose."
"This is just a scrimmage. No trophy. No punishment. No pressure."
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Quest Unlocked: "I don't want to clean"
Objective: Win the Tournament
Rewards: Random draw, + 100 atribute to Host choice, random skill, 3x item for host to choose
Accept this Quest? [YES] / [NO]
[YES]
I stood tall.
"Change of plans," I said, eyes glowing with intent.
"We're not losing."
They blinked.
I leaned forward, voice low and clear.
"Yuto—you're gonna crash the paint. No fear. When I pull Rikuya out, fight for position and seal hard."
"H-Hai!"
"Hiroki—you're gonna shoot mid-range. Don't hesitate. Miss ten, shoot eleven. Got it?"
"O-Okay!"
They nodded.
Still scared. But the fear was sharpening now.
Turning into focus.
That was enough.
…
Tip-off.
Game to 11.
Kaito tossed the ball into the air.
Yuto leapt—
But Rikuya didn't even bother jumping.
He reached.
Like some divine hand claiming what was his.
0–2.
Seal. One dribble. Hook shot.
Swish.
No wasted energy. No expression.
The kind of move you can't teach.
So that's the level.
Alright then.
Next play. My turn.
I hesitated at the arc.
Rikuya's eyes twitched.
That was all I needed.
A half-step forward from him—bait taken.
I zipped a bounce pass behind him. Hiroki curled around.
Open look. Pull-up mid-range—
CLANG.
Rim.
But Yuto fought—arms flailing like windmills.
The ball tipped.
I snatched it. Take it out. Drove in.
Dish underneath.
2–2.
Rikuya answered. Instantly.
2–4.
Fake right. Fade left.
Elbow shot. Net.
He was surgical. Every motion pure efficiency.
Like he knew the move would land before he even started it.
But something was shifting.
I could feel it.
Synergy Vision pulsed stronger.
My other passive skills were activating beneath the surface.
[Team Spark – Passive] Increases team synergy and coordination
I didn't need to tell them what to do now.
They were moving on their own.
No-look laser to Hiroki.
Catch. Step-in. Jumper.
4–4.
Fast break. I led Yuto with a bounce.
He ran into the pass like it was destiny.
6–4.
Rikuya scored again.
6–6.
A spin into a fadeaway. Untouchable.
…
Then we started to roll.
8–6.
8–8.
10–8.
10–10.
We fought tooth and nail, each possession a warzone.
But I wasn't fighting alone.
They were growing.
Hiroki's shot got softer.
Yuto's screens got tighter.
They were leveling up mid-match.
Because of me?
No.
Because Team Spark made them believe in themselves.
12–10.
Hiroki caught and shot without flinching.
14–10.
Yuto sealed his man and dropped in a post feed from me.
But Rikuya…
He didn't fall behind.
14–12.
14–14.
We couldn't shake him.
No matter how sharp we played, he was right there.
Every shot, every possession—he answered.
He's like a storm.
But storms don't think.
And storms can't adapt.
He was alone.
We were a unit.
16–14.
18–14.
I drew him further and further out with fakes and quick bursts.
I was slicing into him—not physically, but mentally.
Breaking his pattern.
Still, he responded.
18–16.
Match point. We need to try for three point
The gym felt too quiet.
Sweat dripped from my chin. My heart hammered like a drumline.
One mistake, and he ties it.
Rikuya forced it.
Post-up. Shoulder fake. Step-in—
Double-team.
He passed out of it.
His teammate—fumbled.
Loose ball.
Mine.
I tore down the court.
Synergy Vision flared.
The lane opened—before Hiroki even moved.
He cut.
I passed.
He caught.
One step.
Pull-up.
Time froze.
Shoot it.
Swish.
21–16. Game.
Silence.
Kaito's whistle broke the trance.
"Game!"
I dropped to my knees, panting.
My jersey clung to me. My lungs burned.
But in my chest?
Victory.
…
I didn't win because I was the best on the court.
I won because I connected the pieces.
Synergy Vision made me the controller.
Team Spark made them believe.
And my other passive skill complete me so we can win this game
Rikuya walked over.
His face unreadable.
Then—he smiled.
"You're a problem," he said.
I grinned back, exhausted.
"You're a monster," I replied. "If your team was better…"
He shrugged.
"We're a team. We'll get there."
I nodded.
"Good."