—Semifinal Bound—
[Congratulations. Host have advanced to the Semifinals of the Spring Tournament.] [Reward Available: 1 Rare Skill, 2 Items, +1 Attribute Point.]
[Host may claim now, or hold until after the next match for upgraded rewards.]
I stared at the floating blue text hovering above my vision, half-listening to the chatter around me. My body still felt the residue of Flow—my legs heavy, my breath shallow—but it wasn't as bad as the last time. Maybe I was getting stronger. Maybe my attributes had caught up. Or maybe… I was just getting used to the pain.
Either way, I ignored the reward.
[I'll hold it for now, Echo.]
[Confirmed, Host. Reward has been stored.]
We had just knocked out Tennoji High—one of the Four Monarchs. A shootout. A war. 106–101.
And now, the bracket narrowed.
"Nice game, team!" Takeshi-sensei's voice broke through the moment. He strolled past us with a proud smile and handed out high-fives and fist bumps.
"Nice gameeee!" Kaito exhaled loudly, clapping his hands above his head.
"Great shooting, Rei! And Hiroki—solid coverage on the wings," Rikuya grinned.
"Yes, Buddha-senpai!" Rei and Hiroki replied in unison, both looking more alive than they had at tip-off.
"Not bad, huh?" Aizawa nudged Taiga.
"You too, senpai. Not bad," Taiga grinned back, flicking his towel over his shoulder.
Everyone was riding the high—but I couldn't. Not yet. My mind was already looking ahead.
"Who's next?" I asked, eyes narrowing.
Sayaka was already ahead of me. "We need to move now. Naniwa Tech is playing Osaka International Zenith. The winner of that match is your semifinal opponent."
As soon as she said it, we grabbed our gear and jogged through the hallways of the sports complex. When we reached Court A, the tension was electric.
We slid into the stands. The game was already deep into the fourth quarter.
Naniwa Tech – 68 | Osaka International Zenith – 65
Low score.
A grind. Compared to our high-scoring firefight with Tennoji, this was a chess match. Every possession mattered.
"Naniwa Tech… they're one of the Four Monarchs, right?" Taiga asked Sayaka as we took our seats.
"Yep. Ten years straight to Nationals," Sayaka replied, flipping through her clipboard. "Defense-first. Physical. Slow pace. They love to break opponents down mentally."
"But look at the score," I said, narrowing my eyes. "They're not dominating."
The team across from Naniwa wore sleek navy-and-gold uniforms. Sharp. Clean. Not flashy, but new.
Osaka International Zenith.
A name no one expected to see in the semis. A brand-new school. Just established last year.
Their basketball program? Nonexistent in the public eye. No past records. No known players. Just a team that quietly crushed every opponent so far. And now, they were toe-to-toe with one of the best teams in Osaka.
And then we saw him.
Number 7.
Their point guard.
190 cm. Long limbs. A reach like a condor. He moved with the grace of a dancer—but when he lunged for the ball, he looked like a predator. And in the span of the next three minutes, he pulled off four steals.
Clean. Swift. Clinical.
Every time Naniwa tried to pass around him, he punished them.
"What the hell…" Aizawa muttered.
I activated my partial Inspect. Not enough for full details, but enough for an overview.
Name: Isaiah Dumont
Year: 3rd Year
Position: Point Guard
Height: 190 cm
Overall Rating: A+
That confirmed it.
This guy was a monster. He must have at least one S in his attributes
And he didn't exist in my past life.
In my original timeline, Naniwa Tech reached the finals. Osaka International Zenith didn't even exist.
That meant the butterfly effect of my regression was getting deeper. Echo had warned me that altering the timeline came with consequences—but this was different.
This wasn't a shift.
This was a ripple turning into a wave.
Their coach was foreign too—tall, sharp suit, blonde hair. Possibly American. Their system was like clockwork, blending speed and fluidity with sharp individual talent.
It wasn't Japanese high school basketball.
It was something else.
"You see the point guard?" I asked Rikuya, not taking my eyes off Isaiah.
"Yeah," Rikuya grunted. "Long arms. Hands like claws. If he clamps me on a switch, I'll need backup."
The game ticked into the final minute.
Dumont stole the ball again, read a backdoor cut, and converted it into a fastbreak slam.
75–70. Game Over.
The crowd didn't erupt.
They were confused. Unsure how to process what they had just seen. A Monarch had fallen. Quietly. Efficiently.
"Okay," Coach Tsugawa said, standing from the bench. His voice was low, but carried weight. "Now we prepare."
He turned to all of us, eyes firm.
"This next match won't be like anything we've played. They're organized. Fast. Precise. And their point guard will be the toughest you've faced."
He looked at me.
"And he's your job, Dirga."
I nodded.
"No matter how hard they press, or how long their arms are… we don't lose our rhythm," Coach continued. "We beat chaos. We beat shooters. Now we beat control."
"They're just another wall," I said.
"Then let's punch through it," Kaito added, cracking his knuckles.
"Besides," Rikuya smiled, "I wanna see how their center handles a real Titan."
Laughter echoed through our group.
But it was nervous laughter.
We all knew.
This wasn't going to be a basketball game.
It was going to be a war.