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

It was indeed Takenori Akagi, Hisashi Mitsui, and Kiminobu Kogure.

The "Iron Triangle" of the senior students in Shohoku.

Miyagi and Sakuragi exchanged a glance, then tacitly shrank behind a landscape tree, pricking up their ears like antennas.

"Hainan was completely crushed..."

Mitsui Hisashi leaned against a lamppost, hands in his pockets, staring down at his shadow on the ground.

"Even Maki Shinichi was driven to the brink of despair; that kind of dominance..."

"Aren't we being a bit reckless by challenging the Mountain King?"

Mitsui's voice carried a rare hint of unease.

This isn't cowardice, but rather a clear-headed realization after understanding the absolute gap in strength.

Akagi Takenori stood with his arms crossed, like a silent iron tower.

He looked up at the dim streetlamp, his eyes as deep as a well.

"When I was in elementary school..."

Akagi suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse, "I used my saved allowance to buy my first basketball magazine."

Mitsui and Kogure both turned to look at him.

I still can't forget the cover of that magazine.

Akagi's fingers tightened slightly.

"Pure white jerseys, the champion team."

"The cover title has only four words: 'The Strongest Mountain King'."

Mitsui's eye twitched slightly: "I remember too."

In short.

Akagi took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently.

"From the moment I truly fell in love with basketball, my only imaginary rival has always been Sannoh Industrial."

"I've played countless games with them in my mind countless nights."

This is the deepest secret that Takenori Akagi kept hidden.

Even if Shohoku can't even get past the first round of the county tournament, even if everyone laughs at them for dreaming.

His only rival was the Mountain King, who stood at the top.

Mitsui stood up straight, his gaze sharp as a knife, aimed directly at Akagi:

"So, what was the result? Did you win?"

The night wind howled.

Akagi Takenori fell into a deathly silence.

His lips were pressed into a straight line, and his rugged face looked particularly gloomy in the shadows.

He didn't say anything.

But this suffocating silence is the most desperate answer.

They conducted thousands of simulations and changed tactics hundreds of times.

But no matter how many times he tried, even in his dreams, he never won against that behemoth.

Not even once.

Miyagi clenched his fist behind the tree, and Sakuragi's playful smile vanished.

Just as despair was about to overwhelm them, a gentle yet hard voice, like a rock, rang out.

"Actually, if we just calm down and think about it, we will definitely win in the end."

The one speaking was Kiminobu Kogure, who had always been a background character in the team.

He pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the lenses reflecting a gleam under the streetlight.

His usually mild-mannered eyes were now burning with fire.

Akagi and Mitsui were both stunned.

Kogure turned around, looked directly at his two comrades, and a relieved smile appeared on his lips.

"Let's all try to recall."

Kogure's voice wasn't loud, "Think back to when we first joined the Shohoku basketball team."

Akagi's pupils dilated in shock.

"How many people left our basketball team back then?"

"They called us crazy, saying that 'dominating the whole country' was a pipe dream and that we were insane."

Kogure looked at Mitsui, his tone growing increasingly impassioned.

"But back then, even if there were only two or three of us left... weren't we all crazy at heart?"

"Aren't they all fanatics who firmly believe they can win?!"

"If we don't even believe it ourselves, then what are we doing standing here?"

"Are you here for tourism?!"

A word to awaken the dreamer.

A flashback suddenly appeared in Akagi's mind: the empty basketball court from his first year, with only him, Kogure, Mitsui, and a few others sweating profusely but still playing hard.

Yes.

From the very beginning, they were a group of "madmen" who were treated as a joke.

A madman has no fear of God.

Mitsui Hisashi paused for a moment, then suddenly lowered his head, shrugged his shoulders, and let out a low laugh.

"Hehe... Hahaha!"

Mitsui suddenly looked up, and that arrogant "I'm second to none" attitude returned to his eyes.

"you're right."

"I am Mitsui Hisashi, a man who never gives up."

"So what if they say 'the strongest Sannoh'? Tomorrow, watch me shoot them through the hoop!"

Akagi loosened and then clenched his fist again, tilting his head back and letting out a low growl, like a gorilla pounding its chest:

"That's right! We, Shohoku, are here to dominate the nation!"

Behind the tree.

Miyagi let out a long breath, a roguish smile playing on his lips: "These old guys are pretty hot."

Sakuragi Hanamichi couldn't hold back any longer and jumped out, pointing at the three people's backs and shouting:

"Gorilla! Mistress! Glasses Guy!"

"What kind of meeting are you guys secretly holding behind my back, this genius's back?!"

"Don't forget, tomorrow it'll be me, the genius, who takes down that Zebei!"

The three people under the streetlight turned around, looked at the arrogant Sakuragi and the helpless Miyagi, were stunned for a moment, and then they all laughed.

At this moment, the morale of Xiangbei's team was as hard as iron.

……

Hotel rooftop.

Surrounded by a group of bodyguards, a man walked slowly towards them.

A bespoke dark suit and gold-rimmed glasses.

Even just taking a couple of steps, the oppressive aura of someone who has long held a position of power is immediately amplified.

The man stood in front of the door, making no move.

The head bodyguard beside him understood immediately and raised his gloved right hand to knock on the door.

"Click".

The door was opened from the inside.

Lin Bei was wearing a loose white bathrobe with the collar open, revealing his collarbone.

His hair was still dripping wet, a towel was draped over his shoulder, and he was holding a half-empty can of iced cola in his hand.

Looking at the scene outside the door, which looked like it could be the setting for a gangster movie, Lin Bei's handsome face was full of "This is really unnecessary."

His gaze passed over the towering bodyguard and landed on the man with gold-rimmed glasses, making him laugh in exasperation.

"Hey, who's this? Quite the grand entrance."

Lin Bei didn't even loosen his grip on the doorknob, casually uttering a meaningless greeting.

He then ignored the people outside, turned around, and shuffled inside in his soft-soled slippers.

His back view was extremely arrogant.

The head of the bodyguards swallowed hard, lowered his head, and didn't dare to breathe.

The young master in front of me is definitely at the top of the list when it comes to speaking to his boss with this attitude.

The man watched Lin Bei's languid back, his eyes behind his glasses narrowed slightly, and he strode into the room.

The head of the bodyguards, with great foresight, retreated outside the door and closed the wooden door behind him, standing guard like two door gods.

In the living room, the long-awaited father and son finally faced off.

The lights shone on their faces.

Anyone with a discerning eye would gasp in shock.

These two look so alike.

Lin Bei walked to the sofa and slumped down.

He casually propped his legs up on the coffee table and tilted his head back to gulp down a mouthful of cola.

The man walked to the other side, unbuttoned his suit jacket with one hand, and sat down elegantly.

The two looked at each other across the coffee table. Neither of them spoke first.

The father and son's relationship is like two fierce beasts marking their territory, each trying to suppress the other in the most effortless way.

Lin Bei's face was utterly bored, while the man's eyes were unfathomable.

The low pressure lasted for a full minute.

"Buzz—buzz—!"

A very cheerful ringtone suddenly rang out in the suite.