Halftime!
"Third quarter—no more holding back. Bring out your full strength! We need to pull away in the third quarter!" Nash said gravely.
Everyone nodded. They hadn't expected the Backboard Breakers to catch up in the second quarter, and there were even signs of them taking the lead.
Beside them, Jason Cibor exuded a soul-shaking aura. Being suppressed by Tylon in the second quarter had clearly made him uncomfortable; he was probably going to wreak havoc in the paint in the third.
The break ended. Both teams returned to the court. Nash frowned slightly when he saw that the player guarding Shidou had been substituted.
Number 9 Aiden out — Number 3 Prince in!
Shidou looked at Prince in front of him, then glanced at Aiden on the bench. It seemed Aiden's "Flow" had consumed too much stamina in the second quarter. This also showed that the Backboard Breakers were determined to win the third quarter. To preserve stamina, it looked like they were going all out.
Backboard Breakers' possession!
Jason dribbled calmly at the top of the key, his eyes scanning the court. Nash lowered his center of gravity to guard him. Their gazes clashed in mid-air.
"This time... I won't let you steal it so easily." Jason's voice was low. His wrist suddenly flicked—
Whoosh!
The pass was released with incredible speed—the Reggae Pass!
The basketball traced a high arc, flying accurately toward the paint.
Nash watched Jason, surprised that he could even apply dribbling rhythm to his passing. He really was a genius.
Tylon had already established position and caught the pass firmly. However, when he turned to face Jason, his eyes flickered slightly—the Jason before him was completely different from the one in the second quarter.
Jason's defensive stance was more solid, his muscles tensed to the limit. The wildness in his eyes was replaced by calm, like a beast ready to pounce. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, and his arms were spread wide, blocking all of Tylon's direct offensive routes.
"'Savage Tyrant'... evolved?" Tylon thought in shock.
Tylon didn't choose to force his way through. Instead, he initiated a back-to-the-basket post-up, using his back to push against Jason.
Thud!
Their muscles collided.
Jason gritted his teeth and held his ground, but Tylon's strength still pushed him back half a step—that half-step was enough.
Tylon gathered the ball, pivoted on his left foot, spun quickly, and raised his right arm.
A little hook shot!
His wrist flicked gently. The ball sailed over Jason's fingertips with elegant spin.
Jason jumped with all his might, but Tylon's release point was too high. Combined with the arc of the hook shot, he still missed by a few centimeters—
Swish!!!
The ball kissed the glass and went in.
28—26!
Backboard Breakers take the lead!
Cheers erupted.
After landing, Tylon gave Jason a cold glance and retreated on defense.
Nash's pupils contracted slightly. "Hook shot..."
Tylon's offensive arsenal was more versatile than expected. Nash had thought he was just a traditional center relying on strength—but he clearly had refined technique.
Nash dribbled across half-court.
Jason stood in front of him, arms spread, fully focused.
"This time... you won't get past me so easily."
Nash smirked.
A lightning-fast crossover—
But Jason's defensive rhythm changed.
He no longer chased blindly. His movement became unpredictable—fast and slow, like jazz—yet perfectly positioned.
When Nash attempted another crossover, Jason anticipated it and slid laterally, cutting him off again.
"Reggae Rhythm · Defense Mode."
Nash's pupils shrank—Jason had integrated rhythm into defense.
Jazz improvisation made him unreadable. Reggae syncopation disrupted Nash's timing.
For the first time, Nash hesitated.
Shidou muttered, "He turned defense into art..."
Jason frowned. "Nash's rhythm is being disrupted."
Nash stopped.
Between-the-legs hesitation.
Tap... tap... tap...
His eyes turned cold.
"Interesting..."
Then—
Tap-tap-tap-tap!!!
The rhythm intensified like a storm.
Nash exploded forward like lightning, tearing through Jason's defense with speed.
Cold sweat appeared on Jason's forehead.
But—
"Not yet!"
Jason slid back half a step, forcing himself into position again.
Boom!
Their bodies collided.
Stalemate!!!
Silence filled the arena.
Nash's fighting spirit ignited.
Tap!!!!
He slammed the ball hard into the floor.
The force pushed Jason back half a step.
That tiny gap—
Nash's Demon King's Eye appeared.
Golden rings formed in his pupils.
Everything became data.
Jason's muscle tension. Tylon's help defense routes.
All of it.
Jason wavered.
Nash blurred.
The ball defied logic—left, right—unreadable.
Jason froze.
"He got past him!"
But—
Tylon rotated perfectly.
"Stone Domain" fully active.
All angles sealed.
Nash pump-faked.
Tylon didn't move.
"Useless. In my domain, fakes don't work."
Nash smiled.
Then—
The ball slipped through Tylon's legs.
Nash passed him.
Tylon turned—
Too late.
Nash caught the ball and jumped.
"Don't even think about it!!!"
Tylon leapt.
Mid-air—
Nash jumped again.
"How is that possible?!"
Jason stared in disbelief.
Nash seemed to defy gravity, rising even as Tylon descended.
He pulled the ball behind his head—
At the peak—
Released.
The ball curved around Tylon's hand, spinning three times on the rim—
Swish!!!
30—26.
Tylon stared at Nash, wanting to ask how he did it.
Nash simply raised a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
After that, both teams traded baskets.
Jabberwock relied on Nash, Shidou, and Jason.
Backboard Breakers relied on Tylon and Charles.
The score remained close.
Prince, who replaced Aiden, showed a stable mid-range shot with a high release point.
Shidou couldn't contain him immediately—his height disadvantage against the American players was obvious.