NBA Skills: Dominating Kuroko no Basket

After Aomine's thunderous dunk, the scoreboard flipped to 81-85.

The atmosphere in the arena grew even more intense with the score change.

Takao dribbled past half-court, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. Aomine's overwhelming performance weighed on him like never before. Even though he wasn't the one guarding him, he could feel Midorima's frustration.

The rest of Shutoku's players felt the pressure too—the sheer dominance of Aomine on both ends of the court had completely stifled their momentum.

Aomine was playing like an unstoppable force, and for the first time, they experienced a deep sense of helplessness. Their confidence and fighting spirit started to waver in the face of his overwhelming presence.

Suddenly, Midorima's voice snapped Takao back to reality, like a jolt of adrenaline.

"Takao, pass it!"

Midorima's tone was sharp and commanding, reminding Takao that the game wasn't over yet—they still had a chance.

Without hesitation, Takao delivered the ball to Midorima. He knew that, no matter what, Midorima wouldn't back down—even if he was up against Aomine, who had already entered the Zone.

Standing beyond the three-point line, Midorima locked eyes with Aomine, a sharp glint of determination in his gaze.

Aomine, as always, remained expressionless, but his focus was razor-sharp, as if he could predict Midorima's every move before he even made them.

Midorima knew he couldn't afford the slightest hesitation. He had to act immediately.

Opting for a fadeaway jumper, he recalled how the move had worked earlier. He hoped he could break the momentum once again.

SLAP!

"Man, Midorima, you're way too slow!"

Before Midorima could even get his shot off, Aomine had already read his move.

In a blur, Aomine's hand shot out like lightning, cleanly stripping the ball from Midorima before he could even raise it.

Midorima's heart sank. He instinctively turned to chase after the ball, but before he could take more than a step—

BOOM!

A deafening dunk echoed from the opposite basket.

Aomine had already finished the fast break, slamming the ball down with terrifying force.

The scoreboard flashed again: 81-87.

Midorima took possession again, but the tension on the court was suffocating.

Aomine moved in like a shadow, pressing up against Midorima with relentless defense—his presence felt almost suffocating, like a coiled predator ready to strike.

A bead of sweat trickled down Midorima's forehead. He knew he had to make a decision fast, or the opportunity to score would slip away.

Under Aomine's suffocating full-court pressure, Midorima hesitated. Unable to find an opening, he had no choice but to kick it back out to Takao.

Takao caught the ball and quickly scanned the court. Seeing Midorima completely locked down, he knew there was no way for him to get off a shot.

Relying on his point guard instincts, Takao made a quick decision—he lobbed a high-arching pass into the paint, targeting Otsubo inside.

Otsubo had deep position in the post.

Letting out a powerful shout, he used his size to muscle Wakamatsu out of the way, then exploded toward the rim for what was supposed to be a statement dunk.

But just as he was about to throw it down, a dark figure suddenly appeared in his line of sight—

Aomine.

"Otsubo, watch out!"

Otsubo's eyes widened.

Aomine had closed the distance in an instant, as if he had teleported from beyond the three-point line.

SMACK!

A thunderous block echoed through the gym.

Aomine swatted the dunk attempt with authority, completely erasing Otsubo's shot before he could even react.

The ball was already in Aomine's hands before Otsubo even realized what had happened.

Midorima's heart clenched. He knew this was bad. Without hesitation, he sprinted back toward his own basket, ready to recover on defense.