109–108. Thirty seconds left.

The scoreboard glared like molten fire, casting reflections across the polished court. Every bead of sweat on the players' skin shimmered under the gym lights. The air was thick with the collective pulse of hundreds of hearts — fans, players, coaches, and even the referees felt it. Every exhale, every movement, every whisper seemed magnified.

Marcus stood at half-court, chest heaving, muscles trembling with fatigue yet primed for a fight. His blue jersey clung to his sweat-drenched back. Yuuto's eyes met his, a calm, unwavering nod passing between them.

"Thirty seconds, Captain," Yuuto said quietly, voice cutting through the storm. "One play. No fear."

Coach Aoyama's sharp tone sliced across the court.

"No set plays! Trust your Pulse! Move with it, live with it!"

From the stands, Kana and Ayaka leaped, voices almost hoarse from cheering, hands raised high. Around them, classmates from the MC team clutched the railing, leaning forward, eyes wide with intensity.

"Go, Seiryō!"

"Marcus! You've got this!"

"Pulse! Pulse! Pulse!"

The crowd's roar collided with the players' heartbeats, creating a symphony of tension.

Yuuto bent low, catching the inbound pass from Shunjin. Itsuki's golden eyes tracked him from the top of the key, glowing with an almost physical intensity. The Watchtower stood as a living wall, his aura towering like a cathedral of gold that seemed to warp the very air around him.

Marcus wiped sweat from his chin, mind racing. His defense… it covers everything. Every angle. We can't play in his line of sight…

Yuuto called softly: "Pulse play."

No formations, no signals, no set path. Only instinct. Only rhythm.

Marcus and Daichi crossed mid-lane, Riku set a delayed screen, Shunjin slid to the weak-side corner, eyes narrowed. Every footstep, every subtle tilt of the body, every bounce of the ball communicated without words.

Itsuki tilted his head slightly, jaw tightening. No patterns… no formation… what are they doing?

The clock ticked down — 20… 19… 18…

Yuuto made his move, driving left — blocked by Renji, who lunged with precise timing despite his stature. Yuuto spun, behind-the-back pass to Marcus. Marcus pump-faked — Sho bit, lunging forward. He drove right, only for Itsuki to rotate, golden eyes glowing, aura flaring.

Marcus smiled. You can't see rhythm.

With a sudden flick of his wrist, Marcus launched a no-look pass to Daichi under the rim. Daichi jumped — BAM! Renji soared, meeting him mid-air, blocking the shot with ferocious timing. The ball spun loose.

Crowd screamed.

12 seconds.

Yuuto dove, saving the ball from going out of bounds, flicking it back to Marcus. Marcus caught it near the arc, breaths ragged, pulse spiking. Itsuki was already there — a towering predator waiting to devour the opportunity.

Two titans, two leaders… one final read.

Time slowed. The gym's lights seemed to dim as the pulse of the game slowed to a heartbeat. Itsuki's golden aura expanded, golden lines stretching upward, forming a massive wall-like structure around him, turning the Watchtower into an unstoppable force.

Marcus felt it — red and blue waves of energy radiating from him, responding to the Pulse. His body thrummed like the court itself was alive. The Watchtower sees everything… but the Pulse feels everything.

He dribbled once. BOOM. The rhythm echoed through the air like a cannon shot. Every movement of his teammates synchronized instinctively. Yuuto cut right, Daichi dragged Renji along, Riku screened left. Pulse lines of glowing color shot between them, linking their heartbeats like electricity through veins.

Marcus drove forward, pulling Itsuki toward him, step-back executed with perfect timing.

5 seconds.

Yuuto's voice rang out, sharp as a blade: "Shunjin!"

The ball zipped across the court — passing through Yuuto's hands like a glowing arc of light — landing perfectly in Shunjin's palm.

Shunjin's eyes glowed crimson, pupils dilated. His heartbeat matched the court's rhythm. Red aura erupted around him, crackling like fire. It stretched, flaring, growing, until it coalesced into a massive red lion, muscles rippling with energy, mane flowing with raw power, eyes burning gold-red as if to rival Itsuki's golden aura.

3 seconds.

Sho leapt, a calculated block attempt. Itsuki twisted, predicting, aura shimmering. Shunjin leaped from the corner, legs trembling, eyes on fire, crimson lion surrounding him like a guardian spirit. Fadeaway jumper.

Marcus thought, breathless: This is it — our heartbeat!

Time stretched into slow motion. Every bead of sweat, every flexing muscle, every tense sinew was vivid, sharp, cinematic. The court trembled under the weight of their combined energy. The ball arced in perfect, glowing trajectory — red-gold, streaking through the gym like a comet.

Buzzer.

Swish.

Silence.

Then — an eruption.

The stands went wild. Kana and Ayaka were jumping, crying, shouting, clinging to each other. "They did it! Shunjin hit it! That was insane!" Their classmates were screaming, waving banners, some even faint from the overwhelming energy.

Seiryō's bench erupted. Yuuto tackled Marcus from behind, hugging him tight.

"Told you, Captain! Feel it, don't force it!"

Hikari wiped tears from her eyes, voice barely above a whisper.

"That's… the Pulse."

Scoreboard: Seiryō 110 – Easton 109.

Itsuki froze mid-court, gaze fixed on the scoreboard. Slowly, a faint smirk appeared.

"So… that's the Pulse. Unpredictable… alive… unstoppable."

He turned toward Marcus, eyes sharp but calm.

"I'll be waiting."

Marcus met the gaze, chest heaving, determination blazing.

"Next time… I'll climb that Watchtower."

The crowd's chant became deafening: "Seiryō! Seiryō! Seiryō!" Red and blue auras pulsed through the gym, energy waves exploding like fireworks. Shunjin's crimson lion form shimmered before fading back into his aura, but the feeling of invincibility lingered.

Marcus's teammates swarmed him, hugs, high-fives, pats on the back. Yuuto stood slightly apart, smiling faintly, hands on his knees, still breathing heavily.

"Pulse isn't just a play," Yuuto said, voice low but firm. "It's life. It's trust. It's heartbeat over calculation."

Marcus exhaled, finally letting the adrenaline drain, sweat dripping into his eyes. "We… we did it."

Sho and Itsuki stood silently on the other side, the golden aura receding slowly. Sho's lips curved in a faint, respectful smile. Itsuki's smirk lingered — acknowledgment of the force they had unleashed.

The gym seemed to vibrate with the memory of that last possession. Even the Easton fans were silent, stunned by the energy, the chaos, the sheer human will.

Marcus looked around at his team: Yuuto, Shunjin, Daichi, Riku, Kento, and even those on the bench, soaked in sweat, bruised, but alive. Their hearts had beat as one. The Pulse had won.

Hikari's voice rang again, clear over the chaos:

"Remember this moment. This… is what leadership truly is. Not control. Not power. But the heartbeat that unites."

Kana and Ayaka cheered one last time, their voices breaking, tears streaking faces, hands clasped over mouths. "That was… perfect!"

Marcus gazed at the scoreboard. 110–109. Victory was theirs — but more than that, something intangible had been claimed: respect, unity, heartbeat over prediction, the soul of the team forged into a rhythm no Watchtower could ever fully read.

Marcus's thoughts drifted to the future: Next time, Itsuki… next time, Sho… the Pulse will rise again. And this time, they won't just see it. They'll feel it.

The gym roared, players collapsed, fans leapt, coaches clapped, and in that moment, the Pulse — glowing red, blue, and human — echoed louder than any scoreboard, any prediction, any calculated move.

It was more than basketball. It was life. It was heart.

And it had won.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.