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

On the field.

Akagi landed on the floor, staring at the swaying net, his brows furrowed tightly.

"I didn't expect that."

"He's such a big guy, how does he even know this move?"

Their once-proud interior defense was torn apart as if it were made of paper.

Mitsui, on his way back from defense, passed by Akagi and curled his lip.

"This East African ape can play small forward."

"Don't use the same methods you use to defend a traditional center to defend him."

"Think about the shape of a flower."

Akagi paused for a moment, then suddenly realized.

Just then.

After scoring, Kawada turned around.

Instead of rushing back to defend, it stopped steadily in front of Akagi.

He suddenly puffed out his cheeks and made an extremely exaggerated face.

He then bent his arms and frantically displayed his biceps, which looked like they were about to burst out of his jersey.

It's not very harmful, but extremely insulting!

With that rugged face, he was absolutely infuriating.

Akagi's face turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

The veins on his forehead were throbbing wildly.

He gritted his teeth and forced out a few words.

"Oh shit!"

"This is an East African ape-man!"

The audience immediately erupted in laughter and screams.

"Wow, Kawada's so cool!"

"That's so arrogant! So domineering!"

"Crush them!"

"Sannoh is about to launch a full-scale counterattack!"

The atmosphere heated up again, and discussions spread like wildfire.

The viewing area of ​​the Hainan University Affiliated School.

Mu Shen crossed his arms over his chest, his strong muscles straining against his coat.

"14 to 10".

"Although Sannoh stopped the bleeding, Shohoku still holds a two-point lead."

"Shohoku didn't rely on luck to push the national champions to this point at the start."

The commander-in-chief, Gao Touli, standing to the side, slowly waved his fan.

"yes."

He narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on Shohoku's number 14.

"This is all thanks to Mitsui."

"If it weren't for his three-pointers, Sannoh would have shut down Shohoku's offensive space long ago."

on the field.

Offense and defense shift.

Miyagi dribbled the ball up the court.

Mitsui is like a slippery eel.

With Akagi's cover, he once again created an opening in the bottom corner.

"good!"

Mitsui clapped his hands suddenly and roared loudly.

"Give me the ball!"

"Score another goal! Crush them completely!"

His voice was filled with extremely strong aggression.

He was less than half a meter away.

Ichinokura Satoshi stood on the floor as if he had taken root.

He stared intently at the arrogant man in front of him.

His chest heaved rapidly.

A storm is brewing within me.

"What a formidable opponent..."

He silently recited it in his heart.

"This confidence in taking tough shots despite strong defense is even more impressive than I imagined."

Ichinokura Satoshi swallowed hard.

His eyes stung from the sweat, but he didn't even bother to blink.

Countless images suddenly flashed through my mind.

Those days and nights filled with sweat, pain, and despair.

He has mediocre talent and is only 171 centimeters tall.

He lacked Sawakita's ball sense, Kawata's physique, and Fukatsu's intellect.

But he has one thing.

He has never lost a school marathon!

He suffered an acute appendicitis attack, and despite the excruciating pain, he gritted his teeth and finished writing before collapsing!

Coach Domoto's hellish training camp.

Those geniuses have all broken down, retreated, and even run away in the middle of the night.

But I didn't!

I, Satoshi Ichinokura, believe that the only thing I will never lose is patience!

This ability to chew up pain and swallow it down.

That's my absolute trump card for standing here!

He suddenly raised his head.

His gaze was fixed on Mitsui Hisashi's unruly face.

His eyes changed.

They became like hunting dogs that hadn't eaten for three days in the wilderness, exuding a reckless madness.

"I……"

"What can we possibly use to suppress Mitsui Hisashi?"

He frantically questioned himself in his mind.

Close physical contact alone? Not enough!

Cut off the ball's receiving route? That's still not enough!

Since we can't technically stop your cheat-like touch.

Then let's resort to the most primitive form of hand-to-hand combat!

"Misui Hisashi!"

Satoshi Ichinokura let out a beast-like growl in his heart.

"Right here on this ground."

"Let's see whose body and mind will break down first!"

"When it comes to willpower, I've never lost in my life!"

Ichinokura Satoshi suddenly lowered his center of gravity.

Like an unremovable plaster, his chest slammed hard into Mitsui's arm.

With muscles taut to the extreme, leaving no gaps, they immediately engage in the highest level of hand-to-hand combat.

"Ready to experience prison-level defense?!"

"I'll make you despair, even the act of breathing!"

"Be prepared, Mitsui Hisashi!"

……

The game continues.

The round with Shohoku.

Inside the Hiroshima Stadium, the atmosphere was so oppressive that even breathing felt difficult.

The "thump-thump" of the basketball hitting the wooden floor was like a heavy hammer striking everyone's eardrums.

Beyond the three-point line, Mitsui Hisashi is frantically weaving and running.

Stop abruptly, run in the opposite direction, and use cover to get out!

The entire set of movements was extremely smooth, without the slightest hesitation.

But the dark figure behind him seemed to have unlocked a lock, relentlessly pursuing him.

Satoshi Ichinokura is like a top-grade plaster that can't be peeled off, clinging tightly to Mitsui's side.

The two players' jerseys rubbed together violently, producing a teeth-grinding "ripping" sound.

Sweat streamed down Ichinokura Satoshi's chin, but he didn't even blink.

His chest heaved violently like a bellows, but his breathing was extremely shallow.

The center of gravity is always maintained in the most perfect defensive posture.

As soon as Mitsui shows any intention to receive the ball, he will immediately block the passing route with his body.

Even the borderline fouls are executed with artistry.

A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

"Holy crap, that defense is suffocating!"

"Ichinokura Satoshi has practically become Mitsui's shadow!"

"Is he not even going to leave a millimeter of space?"

Mitsui Hisashi abruptly stopped, his brows furrowing into a deep knot.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest.

Being bitten so closely and relentlessly caused my energy to be depleted at almost twice the normal rate.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Ichinokura Satoshi, who was expressionless beside him.

Is this what a defensive specialist is like?

They don't even want me to touch the ball?

What a troublesome monster!

Mitsui cursed inwardly, but a hint of arrogance crept into the corner of his mouth.

Are you trying to wear me down like this?

Broaden your horizons, little bro!

Let's give it a try!

If you keep pushing yourself to the limit like this, you'll definitely break down before I do!

Satoshi Ichinokura maintained his defensive stance with knees bent and arms outstretched.

His thigh muscles were trembling violently from excessive tension.

But his eyes held a chilling calm.

endure.

He frantically gave himself orders in his mind.

Endure the pain, endure the exhaustion, endure everything.

Until the will of this man before me is completely destroyed!

On the sidelines, the bench of Sannoh Industrial.

Domoto Goro crossed his arms and watched the tense situation on the field, a wild grin spreading across his face.

Well done, Satoshi Ichinokura!

This is the true dominance of the Sannoh defensive specialists.

As long as we disable Shohoku's three-point shooting ability.

Sannoh completely controlled the pace of the game.