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

Chaos erupted in the hotel room.

The story concludes with a freshly baked, smoking bun on Sakuragi Hanamichi's head.

With a dark expression, Akagi Takenori tossed Sakuragi back onto the sofa like he was picking up a chick.

He exhaled a heavy breath and rubbed his throbbing temples.

I forcibly drew my gaze back to the television set that was emitting a ghostly blue light.

The screen froze at the moment when Sannoh Industrial successfully counterattacked.

"coach……"

Akagi cleared his throat, his voice sounding particularly dry in the deathly silent room.

"Is this videotape from last year's semi-final?"

"So, most of the key players from that Sannoh team back then have graduated?"

He stared at the expressionless number 4 captain on the screen:

"Of the veterans who stayed on this team this year, I think only point guard Kazunari Fukatsu is left, right?"

Sitting next to him, Kiminobu Kogure pushed up his reflective glasses, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes.

He turned to look at Miyagi Ryota, his tone gentle:

"If only Fukatsu is left, then it's still within a controllable range."

"Miyagi, our whole team will help you take care of this guy."

Ryota Miyagi bit his thumb nail tightly without saying a word, but his taut jawline relaxed slightly.

Facing such a precise, machine-like point guard.

With cover, he was confident he could use his speed to create an opening.

however.

Coach Anzai, sitting on a single sofa, did not nod.

He picked up his teacup, gently blew away the floating leaves, and slowly took a sip.

The eyes behind the lenses were slightly narrowed, reflecting a light that sent chills down one's spine.

"No."

Coach Anzai put down his teacup. His voice wasn't loud, but it felt like a heavy hammer blow to everyone's head.

Of the starting players who participated in that game last year, only three remain.

"Three?!"

The air in the room seemed to be instantly vacuumed out.

Akagi Takenori's eyes widened suddenly, his pupils contracting violently.

Mitsui Hisashi felt a chill run down his spine, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his clothes.

Coach Anzai picked up the remote control, the screen moved, and then he precisely paused it.

On the screen, a close-up shot magnifies a strong center forward who completes a long pass across the entire field.

"Lin Bei already mentioned him earlier."

Coach Anzai pointed in the air with his broad fingers.

"Last year's center, Masashi Kawata, wore number 14."

"This year, I'm in third grade."

Coach Anzai's voice became extremely serious:

"Tall and with terrifying muscle strength."

"But don't be fooled by his appearance; his speed and skill are terrifying."

"Not only can he use his strength to score under the basket, but he can also drive to the basket on the perimeter like a guard."

"You could say he's a well-rounded fighter, with no weaknesses."

Akagi Takenori's breathing suddenly became heavy, like a bellows.

He stared intently at the tank-like man on the screen, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

An all-around center?

Drive like a guard?

Trembling.

An indescribable electric current surged up my spine and onto my scalp.

It is fear, but even more so, it is the bloodthirsty desire when encountering the best prey.

"Hey, I said..."

In this extremely oppressive atmosphere.

Sakuragi Hanamichi, completely oblivious to his surroundings, casually approached the television.

He stroked his chin, squinted, and stared at Masashi Kawada on the screen with the unbridled squinting of someone picking through rotten cabbages at a market.

"This guy looks so sloppy!"

"Her face is all squashed together!"

Sakuragi muttered to himself, then suddenly turned to look at Akagi Takenori.

He glanced around twice, then suddenly slapped his thigh.

"This genius has discovered it!"

Sakuragi pointed at the screen and declared loudly and confidently:

"This guy looks more like a gorilla than a gorilla itself!"

"That round face, that thick neck..."

"Okay, it's decided! We'll call him East African Ape-Man!"

"puff--"

Ryota Miyagi, who was so nervous that his stomach hurt, almost spat out his saliva.

Mitsui Hisashi's mouth twitched wildly as he desperately pinched his thigh to suppress his laughter, afraid of angering Akagi at this moment.

Lin Bei couldn't help but give a thumbs up. When it comes to nicknames, Sakuragi is definitely the best.

"What nonsense are you spouting, you idiot?!"

Akagi Takenori's forehead veins bulged, the sense of destiny he had just built up was shattered by the phrase "East African ape-man".

Without any hesitation, he delivered a sharp chop to Sakuragi's forehead.

"Awoo!"

"Doesn't it look like it? It's definitely East African ape-man!"

Sakuragi covered his head and squatted on the ground, feeling wronged.

"Alright, stop fooling around."

Lin Beizhi got up and walked to the television.

Long, slender fingers tapped on the right side of the screen, on the boy who had just completed a fast break dunk.

"Besides Fukatsu and that 'East African Man,' there's this guy too."

Lin Bei's gaze swept over Rukawa and Sakuragi, a playful smile curving his lips:

"The kid wearing the number 13 jersey in the video is now number 9."

"He is the true trump card of Sannoh."

"trump card?!"

These two words seem like some kind of switch.

One second Sakuragi Hanamichi was clutching his head and crying in pain, the next second he bounced up like a spring.

Meanwhile, Rukawa Kaede, who had been indifferent to the outside world in the corner, suddenly looked up.

Their gazes were like two sharpened blades, fixed intently on the young player's face on the screen.

Rukawa Kaede's breath hitched.

Looking at the guy on the screen with his cold eyes and lightning-fast movements.

The wildness deep within him began to roar wildly.

"That's right."

Coach Anzai looked at the two problem children whose "unwillingness to admit defeat" was etched on their foreheads.

He calmly dropped a bombshell:

"The terrifying strength shown in the video, so fluid and capable of tearing apart Hainan's defenses..."

"He was just a freshman at the time."

Dead silence.

The room fell silent again, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"First...first grade?!"

Miyagi Ryota was so shocked his jaw dropped, and his voice cracked.

"What kind of international joke is this?"

"That abnormal body control, that change of direction at breakneck speed..."

"You're telling me he was only in first grade last year?!" Mitsui Hisashi rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

Just when everyone was stunned by this terrifying talent...

Sakuragi Hanamichi suddenly tilted his head back, put his hands on his hips, and let out a thunderous laugh.

"Hahahaha!"

"What's so great about being a first-year student! I'm a first-year student too!"

He arrogantly surveyed his surroundings:

"It seems this team called Sannoh can only rely on their first-year students to carry the team!"

"Since we're all first-year students, this genius will reluctantly do his part and teach him what a true genius is tomorrow!"

Sakuragi pointed his thumb at his nose with a smug look on his face.

"Oh."

A chilling laugh with a penetrating force came from the corner.

Rukawa Kaede slowly stood up, not even bothering to glance at Sakuragi.

He simply shook his head expressionlessly, spread his hands, and made a gesture brimming with sarcasm.

"What are you laughing at?!" Sakuragi instantly bristled.

"You two..."

Rukawa Kaede shrugged: "Not even close."