Two Months Later – Kaizen High Gym

The championship banner was up.

Every time someone walked in, they looked at it—some in awe, some in fear.

Riku stared at it for a long time after practice.

Renji walked by, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

> "Feels heavier now, doesn't it?"

Riku didn't reply.

He was thinking about the target now painted on their backs.

---

📬 An Invitation Arrives

Coach Tanaka walked into the gym, holding a sleek envelope with a gold seal.

> "We've been invited."

The team gathered.

Inside the envelope:

A handwritten note, sharp and cold.

> "Your fire caught our attention. Let's see how bright it burns overseas."

– St. Ragna International Academy

An elite school from Europe. Known for recruiting national-level players worldwide.

The invite?

To the World Youth Invitational Tournament—hosted in Tokyo.

Only 6 Japanese schools selected.

Kaizen was one of them.

---

🔥 New Arc Begins: World Youth Invitational

Teams from the US, Spain, Italy, and France.

Even Jin's new restructured Black Fang got an invite.

Riku stared at the bracket.

At the top: "Group A – Kaizen vs. Islington Academy (England)"

Renji:

> "International vibes already? You ready for this, Captain?"

Riku:

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

> "Not yet. But we will be."

---

📍 Islington Academy – Scouting Report

Souta pulled up footage.

Their ace: Leon Mercer.

Nickname: "The Hollow Court."

Plays like a ghost. Silent. Slippery. Shoots like a machine.

Height: 6'4

Position: SG

Known for: "Blackout Drive" – A fake so clean, defenders freeze mid-step.

> "He's like the anti-Renji," Souta muttered.

Renji raised an eyebrow.

> "Bet. I'll break him first."

---

🕶️ Black Fang HQ

Jin reviewed the invite.

His team looked different now—sharper, faster, hungrier.

A new transfer stood beside him.

Name: Noah Eisaku

Nationality: Japanese-American

Specialty: Full-court dominance.

Nickname: "The One-Man Press."

Jin smirked.

> "Let's see if Kaizen can handle real fire."

---

🏀 Final Scene – Midnight Practice

Riku practiced alone.

Shadow drills. Corner shots. Ghost Step.

Then paused.

A familiar voice echoed:

> "Still obsessed with fixing the perfect move?"

Riku turned.

A new challenger stood in the doorway—wearing a foreign jersey.

> "You don't know me yet, Riku.

But after tomorrow, you won't forget me."