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

"The same applies to the defensive end!"

Zebei got more and more excited as he talked, almost to the point of stripping Akagi naked.

"Just drag him out of the paint for some military training, and that'll be the end of it!"

"If he dares to show himself, whether it's Fukatsu-senpai or me, we can easily get rid of him quickly!"

At this point, Zebei suddenly stopped talking.

He turned his head, his gaze lingering on Kawada's fierce-looking face for two seconds.

Suddenly he grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

"Kawata-senpai, this job is practically tailor-made for you."

"Even though you're ugly, practically a negative score in looks, you traded your looks for shooting range!"

"You could just pull up beyond the arc and shoot, drawing that Akagi out, then our paint would be wide open!"

The air suddenly became quiet.

Kazunari Fukatsu took a sip of water expressionlessly and silently moved half a meter to the side.

He even added, "Someone's about to break down."

Nobe covered his face immediately, unable to bear to look.

The vein on Kawada Masashi's forehead throbbed merrily.

He slowly raised his head, his eyes flashing with a murderous red light, his voice as low as a demon crawling out of hell.

"Sawakita... what did you just say?"

"Am I...ugly?"

Zebei hadn't realized the seriousness of the situation and was still frantically posting:

"Oh, senior, honest advice is hard to swallow!"

"Even though you look like you just escaped from the zoo, you're incredibly meticulous!"

"Awooo—!!"

The next second, a pig-like scream echoed throughout the entire floor.

Kawada transforms into a furious brown bear, pouncing on Sawakita and pinning him to the ground.

He retaliated with a "super explosive backhand," locking his neck tightly.

"You little brat, you're asking for it, aren't you?! Huh?!"

"Does playing basketball have anything to do with looks?!"

"Huh?! You're such a sucker for good looks!"

Kawada grabbed Sawakita, spitting wildly.

"Ouch! Ouch! It's broken! It's broken!"

"Kawada-senpai, I was so mean, I was wrong!" Sawakita frantically pounded the ground and begged for forgiveness, tears streaming down his face.

"Wrong? I think you've gotten too cocky!"

Kawada didn't let go; instead, he started frantically drilling into Sawakita's temples with his knuckles.

"Don't think you're a top star just because a few girls write you love letters!"

"Waaaah... That's the love from the fans... Senior, you're just jealous of how handsome I am..."

"You dare talk back?! Believe me or not, I'll bury you in Hiroshima today!"

This one-sided massacre lasted a full five minutes.

Until Fukatsu casually remarked, "The coach's going to be watching the show from the doorway."

Kawada snorted coldly and threw Sawakita aside like a rag doll.

Zebei covered her red neck, huddled in the corner with a pitiful expression, like a little wife being bullied by a bully.

Everyone sat down again, and the recording continued.

The scene then cuts to Shohoku playing against Hainan.

On the screen, Rukawa Kaede had just shown off a powerful reverse dunk.

The room fell silent once again.

The anger on Kawada's face subsided, replaced by extreme solemnity.

He stared intently at Rukawa Kaede on the screen, his eyes focused.

He knew that look in his eyes, eyes that were only for basketball and yearning for victory, all too well.

"Zebei".

Kawada suddenly spoke, his voice deep and muffled.

Zebei, who was rubbing his neck, looked up: "What? Haven't you had enough?"

"No."

Kawada didn't turn around, his gaze shifting back and forth between Rukawa Kaede on the screen and Sawakita beside him.

"Watching him play against Hainan, and just now against Toyotama..."

Kawada turned his head, his large, bell-like eyes staring at Sawakita's slightly childish face.

"That Rukawa Kaede..."

"He looks a lot like you."

Sawakita Eiji, who was rubbing his neck and pretending to be aggrieved, paused.

He dropped his playful grin and straightened up.

In the dim light, those eyes, which usually seemed nonchalant, suddenly sharpened.

Zebei raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly, "Is that so?"

In just two short words, the arrogance of the top high school student was perfectly captured.

This is complete composure before a dimensional reduction attack.

"That reckless, blind attitude is exactly the same."

Kazunari Fukatsu, standing next to him with his perpetually expressionless face, delivered a precise and scathing remark.

He unscrewed the kettle, took a sip of water, and spoke without any emotion.

"Not only that."

Kawada crossed his arms, his thick arms like two steel pipes.

"There's also that lone wolf style of play where all you see is the basket."

"After getting the ball, my teammates all became invisible, like a mad dog guarding its food."

Zebei opened his mouth, intending to salvage the situation by saying that he now had a team.

But the image of his arrogant self when he first joined the team in his first year of high school flashed through his mind, and he swallowed the words back.

"..."

He was uncharacteristically stumped, touched his nose, and looked up to count the dust on the ceiling.

The substitute player in charge of intelligence in the back row opened his notebook and solemnly announced the data.

"In the Kanagawa Prefecture Tournament, number 11 Rukawa Kaede averaged 30 points per game."

The substitute player swallowed hard, his voice barely audible.

"He won Rookie of the Year in his freshman year of high school and was selected as an All-Star player."

"He beat up those thugs from Toyotama, his left eye was swollen from being punched, yet he still managed to score with his eye closed using muscle memory..."

"Guys, this kid is a tough one."

There was a moment of silence in the video recording room.

An average of 30 points per game is enough to make anyone's scalp tingle in the meat grinder of the national competition.

But instead of panicking, Zebei's eyes lit up with excitement.

He jumped up barefoot and darted to the television in two steps.

He pointed at Rukawa Kaede's grumpy face on the screen and laughed like a madman who had seen a new toy.

"His movements are still a bit rough, but this kid's intuition for the basket is simply unreasonable..."

Zebei's tone revealed a mutual appreciation between geniuses: "This kid will definitely be a big shot in the future."

However, this expert filter didn't even last three seconds.

"Click—"

With veins bulging on his forehead, Okawada pounced forward like a raging brown bear.

A thick arm grabbed Zebei's neck and sent him straight to the guillotine.

"Who are you trying to praise indirectly, you little brat?!"

Okawada's roar shook the windows, and spittle flew everywhere.

"Damn it, Sawakita!"

"So if he says he looks like you, then you must be a big shot too, right?!"

"You're so concerned about maintaining a good image, who are you trying to fool?!"

"Cough cough...it's about to break!"

"Kawata-senpai has let go!"

Zebei frantically pounded on Okawada's iron arm, kicking his legs wildly.

That sophisticated style just now has been completely shattered.

Instead of loosening the straps, Okawada tightened them even more, until his face ached and became distorted.

"Don't think I don't know what you're enjoying!"

"This kid has that smug, pretty-boy face, just like you, girls scream for him after every match!"

"So what if I have a lot of female fans?! I'm not envious at all!"

"Did you hear that?! I'm not envious at all!!!"

"You're totally suffering from severe conjunctivitis..." Fukatsu added sarcastically from the side.

"Shut up, Fukatsu!" Kawada roared.

After a chaotic scene.

Zebei slumped in the corner like a dead dog, clutching his reddened neck and coughing violently.

Tears almost welled up in my eyes.