CHAPTER 111: HORIZON VS TOYONAKA : WHEN STEEL MEETS THUNDER 3

Toyonaka’s transition game now unstoppable.

And Masaki?

He was a demon unleashed.

Another drive.

A mid-air adjustment.

Contact.

Still finished.

24 – 32.

Coach Tsugawa stood—his voice cutting through the chaos.

"Timeout!"

The whistle blew.

The gym trembled.

And Horizon—

was down eight.

With three minutes left in the second quarter.

...

And Horizon—

was down by eight.

The gym was buzzing, but to Horizon’s bench, it felt muted.

Dull. Like the hum of defeat trying to sink its teeth in.

Dirga walked off the court slowly, towel draped over his shoulders, sweat dripping down his jaw like the remnants of a storm that had failed to bring the rain.

His vision was sharp.

His mind, even sharper.

But his grip on the game?

Slipping.

Toyonaka was adapting.

Yuto was reading.

Masaki—was tearing them apart.

And it wasn’t just him.

Rikuya sat with his head lowered, towel over his face. Taiga leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, knuckles white. Their bodies were fine.

Their spirits?

Fraying at the edges.

Masaki was scoring like defense didn’t exist—

Blowing past doubles.

Sinking threes like practice drills.

Moving like a man possessed.

And Dirga?

He felt the weight.

The conductor was losing the rhythm.

Until—

"GO GO HORIZON! GO HORIZON!!"

Ayaka’s voice sliced through the gloom like lightning.

Again and again, louder than any horn or drum.

The cheer squad followed her lead, stomping, clapping, chanting.

The crowd rallied.

The gym pulsed.

And for a brief second—

Dirga looked up.

Ayaka was at the front of the squad, fist in the air, her voice raw from shouting, face flushed from the effort.

She’s still fighting.

So we don’t fight alone.

And in that moment, Dirga clenched his fists.

Something shifted.

Something lit.

I still have more.

Coach Tsugawa snapped.

"We’re changing the formation," he barked, no hesitation in his voice. "Toyonaka’s choking Dirga too tightly. They’ve prepped for him. We take that away."

Everyone leaned in.

"Kaito at PG. Dirga slides to SG. Aizawa at SF. Taiga, Rikuya—you hold the frontcourt."

The players blinked. This wasn’t the usual look.

Not since Dirga learned to control the tempo had they run this setup.

Coach Tsugawa’s eyes locked on Dirga.

"This time, you don’t conduct. You detonate. Kaito will carry the rhythm—you bring the chaos. Unleash it, Dirga."

"Yes, coach," Dirga said, voice low—but his heartbeat roaring.

Inside, something pulsed.

[ Flow State: Activated ]

[ 200% Attribute Boost – Time Remaining: 2:30 Minutes ]

[ Stamina Booster Engaged – Reserves Stabilized ]

A soft echo only Dirga could hear.

But it wasn’t a whisper.

It was a drumbeat.

The moment he stepped back on the court, it was like the world narrowed.

Color bled brighter.

Time slowed.

The lines of the court sharpened into trails, like veins under glass.

Three minutes.

That’s all I need.

He rolled his shoulders once.

Cracked his neck.

And as the inbound passed from Kaito’s hands to his—

Dirga moved.

And the storm followed.

...

Kaito brought the ball up.

It had been a long time.

But now—the General was back.

Across from him, Shunpei tightened his stance, eyes locked in.

And Yuto? Still glued to Dirga like a shadow.

Kaito glanced at Dirga.

He saw it—that fire.

The same one from their match against Seiryuu.

The kind of fire that demanded respect... and attention.

But Kaito wasn’t here to admire it. He was here to use it.

With a sharp flick of his hand, Kaito called for a screen.

Dirga stepped in—shoulders squared, feet planted.

But the moment contact hit, he didn’t hold.

Dirga slipped.

He rejected the screen—darting toward the basket in a sharp cut.

Yuto’s eyes widened.

Shunpei bit the bait.

Both defenders collapsed toward the moving flame—Dirga.

And in that instant, they left the General alone.

Kaito paused. One heartbeat.

Then rose from behind the arc.

Release.

The gym went quiet.

Splash.

27 – 32.

Kaito didn’t smile.

He didn’t raise a fist.

He simply turned back, eyes already scanning the next play.

Dirga might be on fire.

But to Kaito?

He was just another piece on the board.

Every move. Every cut.

Every possession Kaito orchestrated—

was designed with one simple goal:

Score.

But the problem wasn’t in the offense.

It was in the cracks beneath the basket.

Because no matter what Horizon did on the other end...

Masaki was a damn scalpel.

...

Yuto walked the ball up, chest rising with calm rhythm.

No words, no signals—

He just passed.

Straight to Masaki.

And Masaki?

Slashed through Horizon’s defense like a hot knife through butter.

One hesitation.

One ghost step.

He broke through Taiga.

Split past Rikuya.

Float. Flick. Net.

27 – 34.

It wasn’t that Horizon’s defense was bad.

It was just that Masaki...

was that good.

He didn’t dance.

He didn’t scream for attention.

He just scored—like gravity itself answered to him.

...

The ball was back in Kaito’s hands.

Horizon’s turn.

Dirga jogged into position, locking eyes with him.

"Use me," his gaze screamed.

His fingers twitched, ready.

Burning.

But Kaito didn’t pass.

Instead, he scanned.

Again.

Toyonaka’s defense was tight—walls closing in.

But Kaito?

Kaito was the locksmith.

A stutter-step.

Left.

Cross.

Right.

Change of pace—slowed just enough to bait.

And then—

Slip.

He cut past Shunpei like a shadow.

Aizawa darted in from the wing, sharp like a knife.

Dirga slid to the elbow—primed. Loaded.

Toyonaka’s defense began to crumble.

Two defenders overcommitted.

Lines blurred.

But then—

Haruto collapsed in.

One heartbeat.

Everyone thought Kaito would shoot.

He didn’t.

Instead, a no-look dish.

Behind. Under. Into Rikuya’s hands.

And Rikuya?

All alone in the paint.

Haruto was gone.

Easy two.

29 – 34.

...

Dirga exhaled through his nose.

He saw the whole play unfold.

Every thread. Every layer.

He still hadn’t touched the ball.

Still not used.

His fists clenched slightly.

His breath burned in his throat.

What is Kaito doing?

But as they jogged back—

Kaito leaned in.

Voice low.

Just for Dirga.

"Realize it, Dirga."

And then he was gone.

What did he mean?

What is dirga need to realize