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

however.

Just as the basketball was released.

A long, slender hand appeared above his field of vision like a ghost, obscuring the sky and the sun.

Rukawa Kaede.

This first-year student was considered an "easy target" by him.

His eyes were as cold as a block of ice that had stood for millennia.

He hadn't forgotten the grudge of being face-shot before.

"Don't even think about it."

Rukawa Kaede let out a low shout and his fingertips scraped hard against the bottom edge of the basketball.

Although it wasn't covered, it caused serious interference!

Bang!

The basketball slammed heavily against the front edge of the rim, bounced high, and made a dull thud.

"rebound!!"

Nan Lie roared, his voice cracking.

Under the basket.

Just as Kishimoto Minori was about to take position and jump.

A black mountain of flesh had already blocked his way, obscuring the light above.

Takenori Akagi.

At this moment, the gorilla's muscles were bulging all over its body, like an angry Vajra.

The anger that had been so frustrating from Feng Yu's petty actions just now erupted completely.

"Roar!!"

Akagi roared, the sound so loud it made Kishimoto's eardrums ache.

He forcefully shoved Kishimoto aside in mid-air, his hands like iron clamps, and fiercely grabbed the backboard.

Landing.

The floor seemed to shake.

"good!!"

The Shohoku bench erupted in cheers.

"Well done, Captain!"

"That gorilla was awesome! He crushed them!"

Akagi landed without pausing, revealing the results of his intensive training over the past few days.

Turn around, protect the ball, and look for the defender.

All in one go.

"Fertile land!"

The basketball flew towards the fertile fields like a cannonball.

Ryota Miyagi receives the ball.

Speeding like lightning.

He went full speed ahead, like a sports car with a V12 engine, instantly tearing through Toyotama's first line of defense.

"Don't even think about going there!"

A figure suddenly appeared horizontally.

Toyotama's foul-mouthed number 6, Itakura Daijiro.

Although he was tall and strong, he was surprisingly fast.

It directly blocked the palace's breakthrough route, standing in front of it like a wall.

Itakura glanced at Miyagi, who was a head shorter than him, a signature mocking smile playing on his lips, his eyes filled with disdain:

"Hey, little dwarf."

"Are you going to show off your third-rate dribbling skills again?"

"All you do is charge forward with your heads down, no wonder you're a C-level team."

"waste."

These two words pierced the palace's ears like needles.

Ryota Miyagi's pupils suddenly contracted.

The veins on his forehead throbbed and sprang, as if they were about to burst.

Third-rate?

waste?

"You bastard..."

Miyagi gritted his teeth, his rationality instantly consumed by rage, and his breathing became extremely heavy.

"What did you say?!"

He suddenly lowered his center of gravity, trying to forcefully accelerate his breakthrough.

Even if there's a trap ahead.

Even if the opponent has already set up a defensive trap.

He was going to rush over and tear that filthy mouth apart!

Just as Miyagi was about to lose his mind and get bogged down in a quagmire of fighting alone.

A voice.

Not too high, not too low.

Yet, it carried an undeniable air of authority, piercing through the noisy arena and directly into Miyagi's mind.

"Fertile land".

Just two simple words.

Miyagi shuddered.

That impending outburst of impulse was instantly extinguished, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.

He suddenly stopped.

The sneakers screeched as they rubbed against the floor.

Stop.

Lin Bei slowly ran across the center line.

He didn't even glance at Itakura, who was spouting trash talk, as if he were just a wisp of air.

His gaze calmly fell on Miyagi.

Extend a hand.

Give me the ball.

There was no explanation.

There were no tactical hand signals.

It's just a simple command.

Miyagi Ryota looked at Lin Bei.

There was no anger in those pale golden eyes, only absolute calm, unfathomable.

That calmness instantly cooled down Miyagi's feverish mind.

He is a point guard.

He is the brains of the team.

If even he gets carried away, then Shohoku is truly doomed.

"call……"

Miyagi let out a long breath, glared fiercely at Itakura, and then flicked his wrist.

Return.

The basketball landed steadily in Lin Bei's hands.

Itakura froze, the mockery on his face gone.

That shorty...

You actually managed to hold back?

Isn't this thing supposed to explode at the slightest touch?

The script is wrong!

Shohoku bench.

As Ayako watched this scene, she gently tapped her palm with her paper fan in a light, rhythmic motion.

Holding the data logbook in his other hand, his furrowed brows finally relaxed.

"I see."

She looked at the densely packed data above, muttered to herself, her eyes gleaming with excitement:

"Toyotomi's matches are extremely fast-paced."

"134 points...129 points...116 points...143 points..."

"All of them won with high scores."

"They excel at dragging their opponents into this kind of back-and-forth battle, using their extensive experience in fouling and their ability to create chaos to grind their opponents up like a meat grinder."

Ayako's finger stopped on one of the lines of data.

I pressed it firmly.

That was the final of the Osaka Prefecture tournament.

Toyotama vs. Daiei Academy.

Score: 68 to 55.

Toyotama was defeated.

"There's only this one."

Ayako closed the notebook, a smile playing on her lips.

"Dairei Academy kept the score very low."

"Jun Tsuchiya... that man known as the 'Osaka Magician,' did not engage in a direct confrontation with Toyotama."

"Instead, we used positional warfare to slowly wear down these mad dogs, leaving them with no outlet for their strength."

on the field.

Lin Bei receives the ball.

He didn't use the high-speed breakthrough he had just achieved.

in contrast.

He is slow.

It's infuriatingly slow.

He dribbled with his back straight, the ball even reaching above his waist.

He looks like an old man taking a stroll in the park, but he's not patting a basketball, he's patting a watermelon.

Hey.

……

Hey.

……

Hey.

The sound of a basketball hitting the floor.

Dull, slow, with extremely long intervals.

Each blow felt like a pounding on the anxious hearts of the Toyotama team members, making them feel so uncomfortable they wanted to vomit blood.

This pace made the entire Toyotama team, who were used to speed and efficiency, feel extremely frustrated.

It's like a race car driver who's used to driving on highways.

Suddenly stuck in the city during rush hour, I couldn't press the accelerator and could only move in little by little.

"Calm down, everyone."

Lin Bei raised his left index finger and pointed to the ceiling.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an air of dominance that commanded the entire arena, clearly echoing throughout half of the stadium.

"Score another goal."

There was no roaring.

There were no passionate slogans.

He possessed an air of complete composure, as if the outcome of the competition hinged on a single thought.

On the bench, Sakuragi Hanamichi stared wide-eyed, completely bewildered.

"Huh?"

"Master, aren't you going to purify yourself?"

"That move of shaking the ponytail was so cool, why didn't you continue?"

"Let's shake two more down!"

Coach Anzai sat in his chair, his eyes behind his glasses narrowed to slits, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

The lens flashed.

"Did you see that, Sakuragi?"

The old man's voice was gentle and deep, as if he were teaching a peerless martial arts technique.

"A true ace doesn't blindly follow the opponent's rhythm."

"If the other side wants to go fast, we'll go slow."

"If the other side wants to create chaos, we'll remain calm."

"This is... control."

Kogure, standing beside him, clenched his fist excitedly and chimed in:

"That's right!"

"If the opponent is good at running, then we'll trip them up with a mountain, making them unable to run!"

"Our Shohoku team isn't just about fast breaks."

"We can also wage the most solid positional warfare."

"because……"

Kogure looked at the figure on the field directing his teammates' movements, his eyes filled with trust:

"We have Linbei."