Jumping full-throttle felt sugoi, but in the next ga, Zack wisely dialed it back to his ground-and-pound furoa ryū—floor ga.
After all, Zion Williamson, who’s way leaner than Zack right now, already proved with his dical chart: when your knees take on more than they can handle, baki—they’ll snap.
For Zack, staying healthy was the ōdō—the royal road. No way was he risking a streetball ga just to get an up-close look at Arica’s healthcare system.
Even if there might be cute nurse oneesan at the hospital.
On the court, though, Zack’s return to earth didn’t give Beast Ellis a single inch. Ellis’s edge was his mobility, but today he stubbornly chose to go tai-atari—head-to-head—with Zack.
Big mistake. Not only did Ellis fail to reclaim his pride, but he also made Zack realize just how much of a defensive kaijū his body could be.
A few days ago, Zack reasured his height and wingspan. Barefoot, he stood at 206 cm, with a ridiculous 225 cm armspan. So even without jumping, as long as Ellis couldn’t muscle out space under the basket, Zack’s height and reach were enough to smother him with bōgyo—defense.
Compared to the old "Zack" Ellis rembered, who shied away from contact, this Zack—reborn with years of streetball experience—was way greasier on D. Once he clocked that Ellis’s under-basket moves were limited to back-to-the-basket spins or bulldozing breakthroughs, Zack played it sly. He’d give Ellis a bit of space, let him start his move, then bam—lean in with physicality.
In a no-foul-limit, high-contact streetball ga like this, that bōgyo was straight-up rogue.
Ellis complained to the refs nonstop, but even when they called fouls on Zack, Ellis’s rattled mindset ant he could barely sink his free throws.
Seeing this, Ellis shifted gears after a few possessions, focusing on defense to try and claw back so nboku—face. But Zack’s next move nearly broke him.
Zack, fully committed to riding Paul’s coattails, had zero interest in iso scoring. As Paul’s wingman, his points ca mostly from mid-range or long shots after popping out from a sukuriin.
If Ellis managed to recover and contest after delaying Paul, Zack would use his clear view from the top of the key to dish the ball elsewhere.
During his training with Paul, Zack didn’t just grind his fundantals—he soaked up Paul’s playmaking waza too. And Paul, watching Zack gel with him on the court, noticed sothing else: beyond their growing kizuna, Zack had serious potential as a playmaking big man.
In one play, after a sukuriin with Paul, Zack, posted at the top of the key, pulled off a jaw-dropping assist. Without even looking, he whipped a bounce pass to C.J., setting him up for an easy bucket under the hoop.
"You saw C.J.’s cut?" Paul asked.
Zack nodded. "Yeah, I waited a bit ’cause his cut was slower than I expected."
Paul made up his mind right then: he’d add passing drills to Zack’s training to unlock his playmaking potensharu. As a natural-born floor general, Paul knew how much a big man who could dish ant to a classic point guard like him.
In Zack’s mory, guys like David West and Blake Griffin leveled up their playmaking because Paul’s style demanded a big who could share the ball.
Sadly, Zack and Paul didn’t snag the $1,500 prize in this 50-point streetball ga. Zack’s weight dragged his stamina down late, and Ronnie Evans—looking like Tyrese Gibson’s twin—went supernova in the second half, draining seven threes for the upperclassn team.
C.J., tasked with guarding Evans, was murimuri—totally bumd—after the ga. "How’s he that accurate? Dude’s gotta be cheating!"
Paul glanced at his older brother and roasted, "With your bōgyo, even a grade-schooler could shoot that well."
C.J.’s face turned red as his little brother ripped off his mask. "Oh yeah? Then who was it that lost to seven out of ten tis in high school one-on-ones?"
Paul shrugged, cool as ever. "Bro, I was barely over 160 cm back then. Losing to three tis—is that really sothing to flex about?"
C.J.: "..."
You’re really my little brother, Chris?!
Watching this, Zack couldn’t help but envy the kyōdai bond between Paul and C.J.
anwhile, the upperclassn trio—who nearly got upset by Paul’s freshman squad—weren’t exactly celebrating. Sure, Paul’s slick handles and smooth playmaking would boost the Demon Deacons next season, but knowing they only won because of Evans’s hot streak left them feeling like they’d lost all nboku.
Especially Beast Ellis, the team’s starting center.
He knew this streetball ga was gonna be tomorrow’s front-page news at Wake Forest. Even during the offseason, the news club—those yaji-uma who loved stirring the pot—would have a field day. They’d roast Ellis for getting schooled by Zack, the so-called "Wake Forest Sha," and email every subscriber to make sure no one missed the gossip over break.
Just thinking about it made Ellis want to bury his head in the dirt.
"Rest in peace, Beast," Evans teased, patting Ellis’s shoulder. "After today, you and Holly are probably done for good."
"What do you think the coaches will say when they see the ga report?" Monk asked, poking the wound.
Evans, the chillest of the trio, spread his hands. "Look on the bright side: the better Chris Paul plays, the better our chances next season, right? But, Beast, real talk—you should hit up Zack for so tips."
Ellis sulked. "Defensive tips?"
"Nah," Evans grinned. "Tips on managing the water cooler. ’Cause once the season starts, you’re gonna need that expertise."
Ellis: "..."
...
"Extra! Extra! ’Team Sha’ Zack Crushes Star Center ’Beast’ Chris Ellis in River Valley Cup Streetball!"
"Is this a twist of human nature or a fall from grace?"
"Insider sources say Holly Woodson, long pursued by Chris Ellis, was spotted in the arms of football captain Dawson Johnson yesterday. No direct evidence yet links Holly’s rejection to Ellis’s River Valley Cup flop."
The day after the River Valley Cup, when Zack got the email from the school’s news club, he nearly spat his nutritional shake all over his retro computer monitor.
Gotta hand it to journalism—it’s got a charm all its own.
"Here’s hoping Chris Ellis keeps his cool and doesn’t spiral like the old ’’ did," Zack thought, silently mourning for Ellis for three seconds.
...
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