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

Kiyota Nobunaga was taken aback.

It's Lin Bei again.

Even Coach Gao is this wary of that lazy guy?

"Actually, Shohoku is the same type of team as them."

Takato Riki suddenly turned to look at Maki Shinichi, who had been silent all along.

"Amu, what do you think?"

Maki Shinichi crossed his arms, his bronze skin gleaming with a cold, hard sheen under the light.

Those sharp eyes were fixed on the confrontation between Rukawa Kaede and Nan Lie.

"really."

Mu Shen nodded, his voice deep and powerful.

"Shohoku is also a fast-paced offensive team."

"But now we've been led astray by Feng Yu, and we're completely following in other people's footsteps."

At this point, Mu Shen paused, his tone becoming more serious:

"That's how Shohoku lost last year."

"What?!"

Kiyota Nobunaga once again provided a meme, his mouth wide open enough to fit a light bulb.

"Fujima's Shoyo?! He got thrashed too?"

Shoyo, the second-best team in Kanagawa, was actually defeated by this group of mad dogs?

"Even Fujima couldn't withstand that kind of unreasonable, chaotic battle."

Takato sighed, looking at Miyagi who had lost possession of the ball again.

"At this rate, Shohoku will be completely crushed in the first half."

Maki Shinichi did not refute.

His gaze slowly moved, finally settling on the figure yawning.

"I guess so."

Maki Shinichi muttered to himself.

"unless……"

……

Shohoku bench.

The air pressure was so low it was suffocating.

"Stay calm!! Don't panic!!"

Kiminobu Kogure rushed to the sidelines, cupping his hands in a megaphone shape.

"Just one point! Even just one point would be great!!"

The guy with glasses was really panicked.

The collapse at the start was like hell for Shohoku, who lacked experience in major tournaments.

On the field.

Ryota Miyagi was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently like a bellows.

Sweat dripped from his chin onto the floor, shattering into pieces.

"Oh shit……"

He stared intently at Itakura across from him.

The man with the buzz cut was blocking the referee's view with a provocative look and was giving him the middle finger.

His eyes looked like he was looking at a weak chicken waiting to be slaughtered.

In the stands, Toyotama's support group was banging drums and gongs, making a noise that was almost enough to lift the roof off.

The atmosphere was so oppressive in Shohoku's half that it was suffocating.

Inside the stadium, Sakuragi Hanamichi was shaking.

It's not fear.

It's anger.

Kishimoto Minori, with her ponytail, was like an indelible plaster, clinging to him relentlessly.

Not only were they stuck on tightly, but their hands and feet were also unclean.

One hand was discreetly pinching Sakuragi's waist, and every now and then the elbow would nudge his ribs.

The gesture itself was small, but extremely insulting.

"Hey, red-haired monkey."

Kishimoto's voice was right next to my ear, carrying a nauseating sense of superiority.

"Don't just stand there like a wooden stake, move around a bit."

"At least it makes me feel like there's some skill involved in watching you."

The veins on Sakuragi's forehead suddenly bulged.

"Don't touch me!"

He abruptly flung his hand away, shoving Kishimoto aside as if swatting a fly.

Kishimoto was not annoyed at all; on the contrary, he was amused.

They pressed their bodies even closer, almost face to face, as they exchanged trash talk:

"Getting impatient? Getting impatient already?"

He pointed to Miyagi Ryota, who had been brutally slaughtered by Nan Lie and Itakura not far away, and said with a contemptuous tone:

"You haven't even touched the ball yet, have you?"

"Could it be that your teammates... are simply too afraid to pass the skill to someone like you who's a complete novice?"

This statement is a surefire way to avoid making a mistake.

You're afraid to send it to me?

You look down on this genius?!

Sakuragi suddenly turned his head, his eyes blazing with fury, staring intently at Miyagi, who was struggling to protect the ball.

"Xiao Liang!!"

That shout was so powerful it completely drowned out all the noise in the room.

Miyagi Ryota's hand trembled from the shout.

In the midst of his busy schedule, he looked up and met Sakuragi's bloodshot eyes.

Give me the ball!

Sakuragi spread his arms wide, like a wild beast that hadn't eaten for three days begging for food.

Miyagi paused for a moment.

For flower arrangement?

At this critical juncture?

This guy was completely locked up in the high post by Kishimoto, and he wasn't even in his comfort zone to score easy baskets under the basket!

"Hurry up!!"

Sakuragi roared again, stomping his feet on the floor.

"Oh shit……"

Miyagi gritted his teeth.

Let's try anything, even if it seems hopeless!

With a flick of the wrist, the basketball transformed into an orange streak, soaring high into the air.

Snapped!

Sakuragi caught the ball steadily with both hands.

In that instant, the noisy world seemed to have been paused.

"They're here!!"

In a corner of the stands, Yohei Mito suddenly sprang up, scattering the popcorn he was holding all over the floor.

"Hanamichi caught the ball! Is he going to do *that*?!"

Takamiya Nozomi, Oonan Yuji, and Noma Chuichiro all stared wide-eyed, their breaths nearly stopping.

The results of the intensive training in shooting.

Secret weapon.

Right at this moment?!

On the field.

Sakuragi held the ball with both hands, his posture... damnably perfect.

Hold the ball with your left hand, lift it with your right hand, bend your knees slightly, and lower your center of gravity.

His usual arrogant and impetuous nature had vanished, replaced by a textbook-like composure.

Kishimoto Minori paused for a moment.

This is quite a sight...

At first glance, he really does look like a sharpshooter.

"You'll regret provoking this genius!"

Sakuragi growled, his eyes sharp as knives.

Jump!

The red figure leaped into the air, its terrifying jumping power still sending chills down one's spine.

Kishimoto reacted extremely quickly: "Want to shoot? Dream on!"

He jumped up immediately after him, his long arms blocking out the sky and obscuring Sakuragi's view.

But Sakuragi jumped too high.

The feeling of being suspended in mid-air, which defies the laws of physics, made him appear as if he had paused in mid-air for a second.

"What?!"

Kishimoto's heart skipped a beat.

There was still a full half-hand's distance between the fingertips and the basketball.

I can't reach it!

Does this thing have springs in its legs?

"Watch closely..."

At the highest point, Sakuragi gently flicked his wrist.

"Genius—Shooting!!"

The basketball slipped from his grasp.

A perfect parabola, perfect spin, perfect hand shape.

At that moment, Haruko Akagi covered her chest with both hands, her eyes filled with stars:

"What a beautiful pose!"

"Sakuragi-kun... he really learned it!"

Even Maki Shinichi from the Hainan district raised an eyebrow: "That novice... can shoot hoops?"

Everyone's attention was drawn to that orange basketball.

It passed over Kishimoto's fingertips.

It flew towards the basket.

Nearly.

closer.

The hearts of everyone in Shohoku were in their throats.

It's in!

That curve, it's definitely hollow!

however.

Just as the basketball reached the top of the rim, it did not fall.

Or rather, it showed absolutely no intention of falling.

The basketball, with a strong spin, flew proudly and straight...

It flew over the basket.

It flew over the backboard.

It even flew over the entire backboard.

Haruko's smile instantly froze: "Huh?"

The entire audience's necks turned in unison with the basketball, their movements as synchronized as a group of bewildered sunflowers.

The basketball traced an incredibly long arc, heading straight for the stands behind the backboard—

There, the entire student body of the Hainan University Affiliated High School was sitting in the front row, eating melon seeds.

Kiyota Nobunaga was watching the show with his mouth agape.

Suddenly, an orange unidentified flying object came hurtling towards me with unprecedented precision.

He instinctively reached out his hand.

Snapped.

The basketball landed steadily in his arms.