The ball was back in possession of Haizaki Shogo's team, and Nash brought it up across half court. Whether intentional or not, Nash's first pass went straight to Haizaki. He caught it without hesitation. Right now, everything else could wait. What mattered was crushing the opponent in front of him and taking back the number 6 jersey he had grown used to.
"You trash. You don't deserve to wear No. 6."
"You... stupid... yellow monkey... you're going to regret this."
Regret? Sorry, that word doesn't exist in my dictionary.
Haizaki dribbled, switching between hands and behind the back crosses in rapid succession. Nick's eyes couldn't keep up, his vision blurring under the barrage of feints. Nick was roughly at Kagami Taiga's level, but compared to Haizaki, the gap was obvious. Haizaki smirked, then in a flash burst past Nick's right side like a gust of wind sweeping through the court. Boom. He slammed the ball home with a thunderous dunk, landed smoothly, and turned to run back on defense. As he passed Nick, his voice rang out clearly.
"You're garbage. I'll knock the crap out of you until it comes back out the other end."
"You... damn yellow monkey...!"
Haizaki didn't even bother responding. He had already lost interest.
Around the court, the rest of the players exchanged uneasy glances, especially Nash and Jason Silver, whose eyes had sharpened considerably. Nash had already told Silver about Haizaki's capabilities, which was why Silver hadn't interfered yet, but letting others test him was something they'd tacitly agreed on. The ball changed hands again, Nick now holding possession. It was obvious what was happening. Everyone wanted a direct confrontation between Nick and Haizaki to determine who would claim the No. 6 role, and more importantly, to test whether this newcomer was truly worthy of Jabberwock.
Haizaki dropped his stance, energy compressing around him like a predator locking onto prey. Nick felt it too, an overwhelming pressure crashing down on him, his pupils widening. And in that split second of hesitation, Haizaki moved. Boom. A one handed windmill slam shattered the rim. He landed, turned, and looked at the stunned crowd.
"This is the second one. You trash."
Shock. Every player in the gym froze. That speed, that power. Even Nash's expression relaxed slightly, his eyes brightening, and a faint smile formed on his lips. For the next match, our chances just increased again. He liked this feeling: certainty.
Only after a long pause did the players recover, staring at Haizaki like he was something unreal. Where did Nash find a monster like this?
Soon, Jabberwock's offense returned to Haizaki's team. Nash once again brought the ball up and passed it to him. Haizaki looked at Nick, who was visibly shaken but still forcing himself to stay focused.
"Can't keep up with my speed? Want me to slow down for you?"
"You...!"
Haizaki suddenly shifted the ball at extreme speed between his hands and through his legs. In the next instant, Nick's eyes widened in horror. The ball was gone. Haizaki stood there with both hands open, his expression casual, and then swish, the sound of the ball hitting the net echoed softly. But to Nick, it sounded like a thunderclap. Boom, boom, boom. His pupils contracted into pinpoints, and absolute dread spread through his body.
"This is the third one, you little trash."
Haizaki turned away, leaving only a towering back for Nick to stare at. From that moment on, Nick was trapped inside a fog of fear created entirely by Haizaki. Even Nash and Jason Silver frowned slightly. That last move had been dangerous, unpredictable, and difficult to read. Nash's gaze sharpened. That level of ball control wasn't something you just had, it was refined, honed, lethal. Only he could fully understand what had just happened in that moment. Jason Silver narrowed his eyes as well, trying to gauge Haizaki's true depth, but the rest of the team couldn't even begin to process it.
On the next defensive possession, Nash passed by Haizaki and whispered, "The No. 6 jersey is basically settled. Don't use Zone. Keep it as one of our secret weapons."
Haizaki nodded. Understood.
Soon, Nick's team attacked again, but the gap had already widened, three straight possessions lost having shaken their rhythm. Jason Silver stepped up next, forcing his way through the defense with raw physical dominance and scoring inside. Now both sides were fully engaged, fast transitions and brutal tempo. Haizaki got the ball again and broke through Nick effortlessly, the man now completely mentally unstable, then leapt toward the rim. But a massive shadow rose in front of him: Jason Silver.
The court tensed. Everyone expected it. Time for Jabberwock's ace to crush the newcomer. Nash watched quietly, his expression unreadable. But what happened next was not what they expected.
Haizaki's veins bulged. He roared. In midair, he met Jason Silver head on, a collision of pure power. For two seconds they battled in the air. Then Haizaki forced his way through, overpowering Silver's block, and slammed the ball through the rim. Boom. He landed steadily, then slowly raised his head, scanning the stunned court.
"Who's next?"
"...Who's next?"
"...WHO'S NEXT?"