NBA Skills: Dominating Kuroko no Basket

Davis's expression grew more serious. If earlier he thought Shiro wasn't a real threat, now Shiro was undoubtedly performing at an elite level on par with the best players on their team.

Everyone stared at Shiro in shock, their faces filled with horror. They couldn't help but think, "How did this guy suddenly become so unstoppable?"

Shiro's face remained cold and detached, as if the events around him had nothing to do with him. He quickly retrieved the basketball he had swatted away moments earlier and accelerated down the court, streaking forward like a bolt of lightning.

LaVine, the one Shiro had blocked earlier, immediately gave chase. Anger and determination burned within him as he swore to deliver a solid counterattack.

However, no matter how hard LaVine pushed, he simply couldn't catch up to the ball-handling Shiro.

Before long, LaVine, now off-ball, finally caught up — just as Shiro drove into the paint. Shiro suddenly executed a wide, fluid crossover, his movements eerily smooth, almost ghost-like, leaving LaVine behind in an instant.

LaVine froze, stunned by Shiro's speed and fluidity. He had no time to react to such a quick change in direction. Shiro broke through his defense with ease.

Once inside the paint, Shiro gathered the ball, ready to shoot.

Wiggins and Davis jumped simultaneously, attempting to contest his shot.

But Shiro's expression didn't change — he had anticipated this exact move.

What followed was astonishing: Shiro displayed incredible hang time, reminiscent of Michael Jordan himself. Floating in the air, he initially feigned a one-handed pass to Akashi. Wiggins bit hard on the fake, shifting his weight toward Akashi's side. Realizing too late that Akashi wasn't holding the ball, Wiggins' balance faltered. Fooled again!

Shiro smirked internally, knowing his fake had worked perfectly. It was time to strike.

With both hands now on the ball, Shiro feigned a straight push shot. Davis, confident he had timed his jump perfectly, swiped his hand to block. A smirk played on Davis's lips — it seemed this shot was as good as stopped.

"You think you can block me? Not a chance!" Shiro muttered under his breath. Mid-air, he pulled off a stunning double-clutch maneuver, contorting his body to avoid Davis. The collision knocked Shiro off balance, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Beep!" The referee's whistle blew.

"What?!" Davis's eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't fathom how shiro had maintained control in mid-air while drawing the foul.

As Shiro, still off balance, released the ball, it traced a perfect arc toward the hoop. All eyes were locked on its trajectory.

"Please go in" Shiro prayed silently, even as he landed hard on the floor with a thud. Pain coursed through his body, but he gritted his teeth and focused on the ball.

"Clank!" The ball struck the front rim. A wave of relief washed over Davis's face, a triumphant smirk beginning to form.

But the basketball wasn't finished. After bouncing on the rim several times, it begrudgingly dropped through the net.

The crowd erupted into a deafening cheer, their amazement palpable. Shiro had executed a nearly impossible move, weaving through two defenders in mid-air, evading blocks, and finishing with an and-one opportunity. The score was now 39:28, with Shiro heading to the free-throw line.

Slowly rising to his feet, Shiro brushed off the dust, massaging the spot where he had landed. Taking a deep breath, he stepped to the line and calmly released the ball.

"Swish!" The free throw dropped cleanly, narrowing the score to 39:29 — a mere 10-point gap now separated the teams.

Wiggins stood frozen in place, his vacant stare betraying the mental replay of Shiro's sequence. The move had been so stunning, it evoked memories of legendary plays by the likes of Michael Jordan.

Meanwhile, Davis's expression darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. Their once-commanding 20-point lead had been cut in half within minutes. The frustration boiled over, his resentment toward Shiro growing by the second.

Sensing the unease in his team, Schröder stepped forward, his voice firm and resolute: "Everyone, calm down! Stay composed. Stick to our fundamentals — no reckless ball-handling. There's no way we're losing this game!"

Schröder's words snapped his teammates back to reality. Wiggins shook off his daze, refocusing on the game. He reminded himself that basketball was ultimately a team sport. As impressive as Shiro was, no individual could overcome coordinated teamwork. And their team had five players capable of matching Shiro's level.

From that moment, the American team executed flawless ball movement. Whenever Shiro or Kuroko pressured the ball, the ball would immediately be moved, denying them any opportunity for steals. Their chemistry and precision neutralized the defensive threats.

On the other side, Teiko relied heavily on Shiro's brilliance. Despite his heroics, the point gap persisted, with the score reaching 51:40 by mid-second quarter.

Kise struggled to contribute on either end, his presence largely ineffectual. Without the Emperor's Eye, Akashi couldn't make a major impact on offense, let alone defense. Kuroko's presence on the court was practically negligible.

Only Murasakibara in the paint provided meaningful support to Shiro, lightening the burden just enough.

"Beep!" A timeout was called. A substitution was imminent.