Masaki dropped the towel.
His eyes pierced through the noise.
His voice was calm. Cold. Sharp.
"No," he said. "We're not here to shut him down.
I'm going to destroy him."
Silence.
"He's good—fine. He's in the zone? I don't care.
He's still human. And humans have limits.
If he breaks them—I'll break mine harder."
He stood up, slow, like a titan dragging himself from the earth.
"I didn't come back from the States just to play.
I came to win.
If I can't beat him here—
I don't belong in the NBA.
I promised I'd take us to Nationals. I'm not breaking that promise now."
Masaki turned.
His gaze didn't land on Reina.
Or Yuto.
Or the court.
It locked on the one player standing alone near the baseline, never looking away from their bench.
Dirga.
And then—
Yuto stood up next.
"There's just one Dirga.
But there's five of us.
If we all go beyond… he'll fall."
Shunpei leaned in, fists tight.
Daichi slammed both palms into his chest.
