Part- 417:

  Tahera, who had been watg from the sidelines, couldn’t tain her excitement. “Basket! Three points!” she shouted, her voice high with disbelief and exhiration.

  The pyers on the court stopped, some mid-dribble, others still in motion, all eyes now locked on James. The ball bounced once before ing to rest on the floor, ahe silehat followed was deafening. For a moment, no one moved. Everyone was trying to prehend what they had just witnessed.

  Kiyoshi stood frozen for a beat, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide with astonishment. He couldn’t believe it—two perfect shots in a row, from two different positions, with no prior experience. He had seen prodigies before, pyers with natural talent who could perform spectacur feats without effort, but this… this was something else entirely.

  “Okay,” Kiyoshi said slowly, his voice filled with awe. “That was impressive, but let’s see how you do again. Three shots in a row? Now, that would really show something.”

  James, still feeling the rush of his successful shots, wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’m ready.”

  He caught the ball again, his fingers brushing the seams of the basketball as if it were sed nature. His mind was calm, his focus sharp. The weight of the game was nothing pared to the weight of his previous victories—this felt almost like araining exercise, another challeo overe.

  Team 2, who had been watg in awe, naiheir focus. They khey o step up their game. Ahsan, who had been one of the best pyers on Team 2, looked to his teammates. “Alright, guys, let’s not let this distract us. We’ve got a game to win.”

  The pyers on Team 2 began to gather around, preparing to defend against James. Tariq and Rifat moved to block him, their bodies positioning in front of him like a wall. James could feel the pressure mounting, but it didn’t bother him. If anything, it heightened his focus. He had faced tougher challenges before, and this was just another obstacle in his path.

  Kiyoshi observed from the sidelines, his arms still crossed, his brow furrowed in thought. “Let’s see how you hahis defense,” he muttered to himself, clearly testing James in every way he could.

  As James prepared to make another move, he gnced briefly at Kiyoshi, then at his defenders. The space between him and the basket seemed to shrink as the pressure built. But just as quickly, the pressure melted away. The feeling of being part of the game, of being in trol, washed over him. The noise of the crowd, the tension, the challenge—all of it faded into the background.

  With a swift move, he darted past Rifat, using his speed to gain just enough separation to make atempt. Tariq reacted quickly, closing in to block, but James was already too far in motion. He leaped, ung the ball into the air once more. It felt almost effortless this time, a move he had performed a thousand times in his mind but never iy.

  The ball soared toward the basket—again, perfect.