Kuroko: Mahoraga - Chapter 69: The Eight-Handled Sword, Divergent Sila Divine General. Mahoraga! (Patreon)

Among the Generation of Miracles, Aomine probably had the largest fan base.

A lot of that came down to the way he played.

His loose, graceful, almost carefree style was simply fun to watch.

Beautiful things naturally attracted people.

Take the famous Kobe Bryant from Masato's previous life, for example.

His off-court history might have been controversial, but nobody could deny how beautiful his game looked.

Whether the shot went in or not, the movement itself was enough to win people over.

Aomine's fans were probably drawn to him for the same reason.

So when he scored with something that outrageous while still making it look effortless, the noise in the stands immediately reached another level.

Even Teiko's reserves, who had watched Aomine score countless times, could not help reacting.

At that moment, Kawari's players might have been the only people in the entire arena who felt differently.

This was the first time they had ever watched someone attack their captain like this.

Kise had managed to score earlier too.

But what Aomine was doing felt completely different.

The same thought ran through all of them.

So this was Teiko's ace.

Ishida started toward the baseline to inbound the ball.

Then he noticed Masato still standing in place.

Concerned, he walked over.

“Masa, you okay?”

There was genuine worry in his voice.

It was not hard to understand why.

Aomine's finish had been absurd.

Anyone could be shaken after getting scored on by a shot that seemed to ignore normal basketball logic.

Especially in a game at this level.

Ishida was worried the play had rattled Masato.

He was overthinking it.

Masato's mentality was perfectly fine.

He had simply been replaying Aomine's possession in his head.

Masato shook his head and smiled.

“Go inbound it, Ishida. Don't worry about me.”

Seeing his captain act exactly as he always did, Ishida relaxed.

He nodded, walked to the baseline, and put the ball in play.

As possession changed, Masato narrowed his eyes.

He was even more focused now than he had been against Kise.

It had only been one exchange.

But that was enough for Masato to realize how ridiculous Aomine's improvement had been.

His entire level felt different from the day they had played one-on-one.

There was a reason Aomine had been the first member of the Generation of Miracles to truly blossom.

His natural talent was monstrous.

He had only been back in serious training for a short time, yet he had already improved this much.

If Masato had to rank the Generation of Miracles by pure athletic talent, Daiki Aomine would be first.

Murasakibara was absurd too, of course.

But Masato was a perimeter player himself.

Naturally, his own evaluation leaned more heavily toward perimeter skills and athleticism.

Still analyzing Aomine, Masato crossed half court.

...

As expected, Aomine picked him up.

Kise had already moved all the way into the corner, creating as much room as possible for the matchup.

At first glance, Aomine still looked lazy, almost like a sick cat.

Masato knew better than to trust appearances.

They were only two steps apart.

Against someone with Aomine's speed, that was not a safe distance.

The instant he saw an opening, Aomine could reach in and steal the ball.

Masato checked the floor once.

Then he attacked without wasting time.

His fundamentals appeared once again.

Simple. Clean. Efficient.

The exact opposite of Aomine's style.

That contrast alone fascinated the crowd.

Masato went between his legs and shifted his weight.

His first step was fast enough to beat most players cleanly.

But this was Aomine.

Trying to win through speed alone was not going to work.

Fortunately, Masato's drives had never relied on rhythm alone.

He used the strength of his core throughout the attack, constantly forcing contact onto Aomine.

After several adjustments, it finally created an opening.

Aomine froze for a fraction of a second.

Masato immediately took the space and drove past him.

For Aomine, the damage was minimal.

He accelerated and erased the gap almost immediately.

Masato sensed him coming from the side and did not panic.

If anything, he deliberately slowed down and waited for Aomine to catch up.

Once the timing felt right, Masato slammed on the brakes and rose into a jumper.

Aomine reacted instantly.

He jumped almost at the same time, his hand sweeping into the path of the shot.

Everyone watching thought the block was coming.

Aomine even smiled.

“Masato, you're too slow. You can't get rid of me.”

Masato smiled too.

With the body control granted by [Core Control], he shifted his upper body forward in midair.

The sudden lean brought back an unpleasant memory for Aomine.

His smile disappeared.

He immediately tried to twist away from Masato.

Aomine's body control was exceptional.

But one player was initiating the move while the other had to react.

No amount of coordination could completely save him from a foul Masato was deliberately hunting.

The sight became almost comical.

Aomine twisted beneath Masato in midair, contorting his body in a way most players could never manage.

Only someone with a weapon as strange as Formless Shot could move like that.

Masato ignored him and released the ball.

“Swish!”

The shot dropped.

At the same time, the referee, already holding the whistle between his lips, blew it.

“BEEP!”

And one.

Masato had recreated Shai Gilgeous-Alexander's signature foul-drawing move again.

The tricks of a superstar from his previous life really were reliable.

Aomine stared helplessly at the referee after the call.

The referee looked perfectly satisfied with the decision and ignored him completely.

Aomine's mouth twitched as he threw up both hands.

Masato laughed.

“Just like before, Aomine. You're still easy to bait.”

Aomine looked thoroughly annoyed.

“Cheap tricks. They won't change the result.”

Masato did not argue.

“Then let the ball talk. Kise thought the same thing.”

While they spoke, Masato knocked down the free throw.

The play sparked another wave of discussion around the arena.

The big screen replayed it from several angles.

More and more fans were beginning to understand just how ruthlessly practical Masato's game was.

One mistake, and he would find it.

Give him one opening, and he would turn it into control.

The Uncrowned Kings were in attendance too.

Reo Mibuchi and Eikichi Nebuya were sitting on the east side of the arena.

Watching the replay, Nebuya glanced at the long-haired player beside him.

“That shot looked a lot like your Earth Shot.”

Mibuchi kept his eyes on the screen.

There was obvious surprise in them.

After a moment, he slowly shook his head.

“No. My Earth Shot needs the defender to jump first. Masato doesn't need that.”

Nebuya did not immediately understand the distinction.

“Sounds basically the same. Just change your shooting rhythm.”

Mibuchi shook his head again.

“It's not that simple. It's the hang time. You have to be able to read the defender in the air and adjust after seeing what he does.”

Then he looked toward the court with open admiration.

“Kawari's ace really is incredible. No wonder you talked him up so much after playing him.”

“...”

...

Back on the court, Masato's teammates rushed over to celebrate.

Aomine's previous basket had made them nervous.

Seeing Masato answer him directly erased most of that concern.

Even the ace of the Generation of Miracles could not simply overwhelm their captain.

That thought filled them with pride.

The game continued.

Masato and Aomine represented two completely opposite styles.

Naturally, once those styles collided, the pace exploded.

The score kept moving.

24-15.

28-19.

35-29.

By the end of the first quarter, Teiko had gradually chipped away at what had nearly become a double-digit deficit.

That did not mean Aomine was overpowering Masato.

The two teams simply did not have the same margin for error.

When Aomine attacked Masato, he could focus entirely on beating the defender in front of him.

Masato could not do the same.

Even if he beat Aomine, a giant named Murasakibara was still waiting under the rim.

The gap in the overall strength of the two teams was impossible to ignore.

The final possession ended.

The first-quarter buzzer sounded.

...

Both teams headed to their benches.

Masato sat down, twisted open his water bottle, and took two deep gulps.

Then he draped a towel over his head.

His breathing was noticeably rough.

That had never happened in previous games.

Usually he could finish an entire match without reaching this point.

Today, one quarter had already taken a visible toll on his stamina.

The Generation of Miracles really were that strong.

First Kise's constant style changes.

Now Aomine's relentless speed.

Both had forced Masato to work.

Under the towel, he continued analyzing Aomine.

His improvement lately had been enormous, especially in speed.

The most dangerous part was the explosiveness of his first step.

There was almost no buildup.

He could go from zero to maximum speed in an instant.

How were you supposed to react to that?

Even now, Masato did not think Aomine had shown his absolute top speed.

He compared the feeling to the numbers on his system panel.

Masato's own Speed was 87.

Aomine had to be over 90.

And with that speed behind it, Formless Shot became even more unpredictable.

That level of improvement was also why [Adaptation] had not taken effect as quickly as it had against Kise.

Masato had already faced Aomine in a one-on-one and adapted to some of his game.

But that matchup had only contained a limited number of possessions.

And a full five-on-five game was completely different from isolation basketball.

The conclusion was simple.

Against this version of Aomine, [Adaptation] needed time.

Masato's teammates grew more serious when they saw him breathing like this.

They had never seen him pushed this hard.

Coach Nakamura looked worried and started to speak.

Masato pulled the towel off his head first.

He felt the mood around the bench and looked at everyone.

“What's with those faces? I'm just more excited than I've been in a long time. You don't need to look that worried.”

His voice sounded as steady as ever.

He even smiled and joked with them.

“You're all acting like I'm about to collapse.”

The force of Masato's presence immediately eased some of the tension.

Ishida relaxed too, although his expression remained awkward.

“Masa, sorry. If the rest of us were stronger, Teiko wouldn't be able to keep throwing people at you like this.”

There was real guilt in his voice.

He knew their own limitations were the reason Teiko could wear Masato down so aggressively without worrying about what came next.

The other Kawari players looked down too.

Masato frowned.

His voice became colder.

“This isn't the time for that. I've never complained about any of you being too weak.”

He looked around at them.

“Right now, all we need to do is put every bit of our attention on the court.”

Everyone listened.

Seeing that, the coldness in Masato's face eased.

The break between quarters ended at almost the same moment.

The second quarter was about to begin.

Masato stood first and led the team back toward the court.

His usual steady voice reached everyone behind him.

“Don't overthink basketball. Just enjoy it.”

...

The second quarter began beneath another wave of cheers.

There was no feeling-out process.

There was no reason for one.

Masato and Aomine had already been fighting at full intensity. The quarter break had simply interrupted them.

The moment play resumed, they collided again.

Once more, every eye in the arena locked onto the two of them.

Every drive, every stop, every exchange pulled a reaction from the crowd.

Even missed shots drew cheers.

Under that relentless back-and-forth pace, the second quarter seemed to accelerate.

...

Meanwhile, Teiko gradually erased the remaining gap.

After possession changed again, Aomine took the ball.

This time, he did not race up the floor immediately.

He advanced slowly.

Every step looked as though it were building toward something.

Masato focused completely.

When they met again, Aomine spoke.

“You think you can still stop me?”

Over the last several possessions, Aomine had begun to feel Masato gradually adapting to his speed.

Combined with their previous one-on-one, he understood what Masato was doing.

He just did not care.

Because Aomine knew he had not shown all of his speed yet.

And he had no intention of letting the stalemate continue.

He wanted to use everything he had and end the duel.

Aomine's entire presence changed.

He suddenly felt like a wild animal ready to tear apart whatever stood in front of him.

And this time, the sensation was not merely metaphorical.

Players with sharp enough instincts could almost see the beast behind him.

A black panther.

Aomine's Animal Instinct.

The moment it appeared, his speed climbed again.

If he had been around 90 before, he was now pushing toward 95.

Aomine dropped his body and exploded right.

His center of gravity fell so low that his torso was nearly parallel to the floor.

The burst left the entire arena stunned.

In the blink of an eye, he went from beyond the three-point line to the paint.

No elaborate sequence of crossovers.

No wasted motion.

He simply blew past Masato.

Then he rose over Kawari's center and hammered home a vicious dunk.

After landing, Aomine did not even look at the center he had knocked down.

He turned toward Masato instead.

“Looks like it's over.”

Then he walked away.

Even the other members of the Generation of Miracles looked shocked by Aomine's speed.

Satsuki, watching from Teiko's bench, could not hide the worry in her eyes as she looked toward Masato.

Masato himself remained expressionless.

But even he had to admit that Aomine's performance was ridiculous.

His Animal Instinct had not been anywhere near this powerful during their one-on-one.

At first, Masato had still been able to trade blows with him.

Once Aomine reached this new level, Kawari stopped scoring.

Teiko's lead began to grow.

Kawari's players grew anxious.

The roar of the arena pressed down on them like a mountain.

Masato felt the urgency too.

He knew that if the score slipped too far out of reach, the rest of the game would become much harder.

Then, little by little, he became quiet.

The noise around him faded like a tide pulling away from shore.

Everything grew still.

Eventually, all Masato could hear was his own breathing.

Near the end of the second quarter, the ball returned to his hands.

He attacked again.

This time, it felt as though a wheel were turning somewhere inside his mind.

Click.

Something that had been stuck for a long time finally moved.

Then the noise that had disappeared came crashing back.

The roar of the crowd flooded his senses from every direction at once.

Masato's perception sharpened to an impossible degree.

The entire world seemed slower.

And somehow, he could sense the smallest openings in Aomine's movements.

Masato trusted that feeling.

He attacked.

An early change of direction.

A pullback.

Then a spin.

During the motion, instinct guided him toward a tiny flaw in Aomine's balance.

Masato initiated contact at exactly that point.

Aomine staggered backward.

That was completely different from their earlier collisions.

Aomine might have been weaker physically, but under normal circumstances, Masato should not have been able to knock him off balance that cleanly.

Aomine froze.

By the time he understood what had happened, Masato was already at the rim.

Murasakibara leaped to meet him.

“I told you, Masa-chin. This time I'm crushing you.”

The block looked overwhelming.

But to Masato, a gap suddenly stood out inside it.

His off arm moved almost on instinct, shielding the opening in Murasakibara's defense.

Then Masato's right hand came crashing down with the ball.

“BOOM!!!”

The dunk shook the arena.

Kawari's frozen score finally moved again.

Masato landed.

The entire building fell silent.

Even the Generation of Miracles stared at him in shock.

Behind Masato, with his head slightly lowered, a figure seemed to take shape.

Neither fully human nor fully beast.

A wheel rested above its head.

Four long feathers covered its eyes.

A sword rested in its hand.

Just looking at the thing sent a chill through everyone who could perceive it.

As the entire arena stared, Masato finally understood the change within himself.

He slowly felt the phantom looming behind him.

This was...

The Eight-Handled Sword, Divergent Sila Divine General.

Mahoraga.