Kuroko's Basketball template: the king of slacking off, Shohoku's strongest sixth man.

If that blind reporter were there.

Mitsui will definitely let him taste the iron fist of a "former delinquent".

Rukawa Kaede, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them and his cold gaze swept over the line of words.

With a slight movement of his lips, he spat out two ice shards:

"idiot."

Seeing the grim expressions on the faces of the Shohoku players.

Kishimoto felt instantly refreshed, as if he had drunk an ice-cold soda on a hot day.

He crossed his arms and pointed his nostrils at people:

"See? This is reality."

"A bunch of C-level teams relying on luck dare to dream of challenging Sannoh?"

"It's like a frog in a well holding a conference; their vision is pitifully narrow."

At this point, he deliberately turned to Lin Bei, who had remained silent in the back row, and chuckled:

"And you, that Lin Bei guy."

"I heard you're pretty arrogant in Kanagawa?"

"But in the national competition, someone like you isn't even worthy of carrying my shoes."

Lin Bei remained lazily leaning back in his chair.

The can of cola in my hand was shaken gently, making a soft sound of liquid colliding.

He half-raised his eyelids and glanced at Kishimoto indifferently.

His gaze was calm.

It was as calm as a human watching a buzzing greenbottle fly.

There was no anger, only a nonchalant indifference.

"Are you done talking?"

"Once you've finished talking, get lost. You're blocking my light."

Lin Bei yawned, his voice as lazy as if he had just woken up.

"you……"

Kishimoto was thoroughly enraged by this disregard, and his face turned a deep purplish-red.

Just as he was about to lash out, Coach Toyotama shouted again from a distance:

"Kishimoto!"

"Don't cause trouble there!"

Kishimoto gritted his teeth, his cheeks puffing out.

Although he was very unhappy, he didn't dare to actually make a move in the car.

If you get suspended before the game, that would be a huge loss.

"snort."

"You guys are lucky."

"Once we get on the court, I'll expose your true colors and show you what despair is."

Kishimoto glared fiercely at everyone, then turned to leave.

He strode forward, head held high, like a victorious rooster.

Just as he passed Sakuragi Hanamichi's seat.

Sakuragi, who had been seemingly daydreaming and picking his nose, suddenly stretched his large feet, clad in worn-out sneakers, out of his seat with remarkable ease and fluidity.

The angle was tricky, and the timing was perfect.

It was stuck right in the only way through the passageway.

Kishimoto is looking down with his nose in the air; how could he see where he's standing?

"trip."

A dull thud.

Kishimoto's right foot slammed into Sakuragi's ankle, the immense momentum causing him to fall to the ground instantly.

"Whoa—!"

Screams pierced the train carriage.

Kishimoto Minori, Toyotama's ace, lunged forward like that.

Then--

"Bang!"

A loud bang.

He fell face-first to the ground in a standard "prostrate" position, landing hard on his stomach.

The floor shook three times.

The entire carriage fell silent instantly.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at Kishimoto, who was lying on the ground convulsing.

Three seconds later.

"puff……"

Ryota Miyagi couldn't hold back and sprayed it out.

Mitsui Hisashi clutched his stomach, his shoulders shaking wildly, his face turning a purplish-red, and tears streaming down his face from laughing.

Even Rukawa Kaede, with his stoic expression, twitched his lips very quickly.

"oops!"

Sakuragi Hanamichi seemed to only then realize what was happening, and exaggeratedly pulled his foot back.

Then, with an innocent look on his face, he looked at Kishimoto on the ground and his loud voice made the roof of the car vibrate:

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"My legs are just too long, there's nowhere to put them!"

"Sir, are you alright?"

"This person is so big and still doesn't watch where they're going. Is he calcium deficient?"

Kishimoto, who was on the ground, slowly raised his head.

His nose was swollen and red like a light bulb, and two streams of blood flowed merrily down his philtrum.

That once arrogant and domineering face was now twisted like a demon that had just crawled out of hell.

Shame, anger, murderous intent.

It exploded instantly inside his chest cavity.

"asshole……"

Kishimoto suddenly sat up, his eyes bloodshot, like a wild beast out of control.

"You brat! You did that on purpose!"

He roared and charged straight at Sakuragi.

With a whoosh of wind, his right hand fiercely grabbed at Sakuragi's iconic big red head.

This is his habitual move, a ruthless technique he honed in street fights in Osaka.

"Kishimoto! Stop!" Coach Kinpei was terrified.

But it was too late.

The claws were only centimeters away from Sakuragi's head.

Sakuragi sat down, his eyes instantly turning cold.

That was an instinctive reaction of a "delinquent leader of Wako Middle School".

Just as he was about to give this reckless guy a headbutt.

A hand appeared out of thin air.

Tall, fair-skinned, with well-defined joints.

She gently, yet undeniably, grasped Kishimoto's wrist.

It's Lin Bei.

"Feed".

Lin Bei's voice remained lazy, yet it carried a chilling undertone that sent shivers down one's spine.

Kishimoto was taken aback and instinctively tried to break free.

But they found that the seemingly powerless hand was as still as an iron clamp.

next second.

Lin Bei's wrist twitched slightly.

It wasn't brute force, but rather an extremely strange and skillful technique.

Using minimal force to achieve maximum effect.

Kishimoto felt an irresistible rotating force travel from his wrist throughout his body, and his center of gravity collapsed instantly.

He spun uncontrollably in mid-air.

The world spun around.

The carriage ceiling in my line of sight spun rapidly, and then—

"Bang!"

Another loud bang.

It was even heavier than the last one.

Kishimoto fell to the ground again, this time landing on his back.

I was so dizzy from the fall that I saw stars, and all the air in my lungs was squeezed out.

The entire room fell silent.

Even the coach who ran over slammed on the brakes, his mouth agape, looking like he'd seen a ghost.

That seemingly lazy boy actually managed to throw the tall and strong Kishimoto out with just one hand?

As easy as throwing away trash?

Lin Beisong loosened his grip and casually patted his palms, as if he had only brushed off a layer of dust.

He picked up the Coke can again, tilted his head back, took a sip, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

Be more careful when you walk next time.

"The flooring is expensive, don't throw your face at it."

The carriage was eerily quiet.

Only the sound of Lin Bei swallowing cola was clear and somewhat jarring.

Kishimoto lay on the ground, panting heavily, unable to get up for a long time.

That fall, though it didn't break any bones, completely shattered his pride.

"Kishimoto!"

Coach Toyotama finally snapped out of his daze, rushed over to help Kishimoto up, and glanced at Lin Bei with a wary look in his eyes.

They started the trouble first, and now that they're outmatched, continuing the conflict will only make them look worse.

"Hurry up!"

Coach Toyotama gave a low shout and dragged the still bewildered Kishimoto back.

Kishimoto was being dragged along, staggering.

As he passed by Sakuragi, he stared intently at Sakuragi and Lin Bei, his eyes filled with such venomous resentment that they seemed to drip water.

Sakuragi Hanamichi sat there with an air of nonchalance.

He touched his bald head, grinned at Kishimoto's back, and his smile was both ferocious and radiant.

"Hey, horse tail."

Kishimoto stopped in his tracks, turned around, and glared at him angrily: "What?!"

Sakuragi pointed to his head, a gesture that was extremely provocative.

"I'll remember the time you tried to push my head down."

"Once we get on the court, I'll shove your head into the basket and use it as a ball."

"Wash your neck and wait."