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

The two stopped under the streetlight.

A faint smell of blood and cheap cigarette smoke lingered in the air.

Tie Nan reached into his clothes.

Mitsui subconsciously held his breath.

As it turned out, Iron Man pulled out not a weapon, but a can of iced soda.

He tossed it casually.

"then."

Mitsui hurriedly caught it.

"You... what are you doing here?" Mitsui gripped his soda tightly, his voice hoarse.

Tie Nan walked to the motorcycle, leaned against it, and took out a shriveled cigarette, putting it in his mouth.

"I heard you made it to the national tournament, so I rode my bike to check it out on my way."

Tetsuo didn't light a cigarette, but just chewed on his cigarette while staring at Mitsui.

"You won the game, right?"

"But looking at you like this, you look like a stray dog."

These words were like a knife, directly piercing through Mitsui's pretense.

Mitsui lowered his head, staring intently at the soda in his hand.

"On the field, I'm a complete burden."

Mitsui gritted his teeth, his shoulders trembling.

"My stamina is failing, and my shooting accuracy is off."

"When I speed up, it feels like my lungs are filled with lead..."

"During those two years of absence, how much did I lose?!"

Mitsui finally roared out all the fear in his heart.

He was afraid of dragging Akagi down, afraid of dragging Shohoku down, and afraid of letting Coach Anzai down.

Tie Nan listened quietly without interrupting.

Once Mitsui had calmed down a bit, Tetsuo straightened up.

He walked up to Mitsui and stared at his former brother.

"Mitsui, you've become stronger, but... you're still an idiot."

Tetsuo stretched out his calloused hand and patted Mitsui heavily on the shoulder.

The force was so strong it felt like it was going to shatter the cowardice in Mitsui's bones.

"Who do you think you're playing for?"

"Atonement? Repaying a favor?"

Iron Man's gaze was frighteningly sharp.

"You're still carrying this dilapidated alleyway on your back, carrying the memories of our days of just getting by."

"You've put so many shackles on yourself, no wonder you can't run on the field."

Mitsui suddenly looked up, his lips moved, but he couldn't say a word.

"Those two years were wasted."

"But there's no going back in this world." Tie Nan let go of his hand and mounted the heavy motorcycle.

The engine roared like a beast.

Tie Nan turned his head, half of his face hidden in the night, but a wild and unrestrained smile appeared on his lips.

"Leave all the mess from the past to me."

"Your battlefield is on that glowing floor."

"Starting tomorrow, throw all your guilt in the trash, and with your arrogance, go and fulfill all the boasts you've made!"

"Don't let me see that mournful face of yours again."

"Right now, you belong only to basketball."

Iron Man floored the accelerator.

Like a black lightning bolt, the heavy motorcycle tore through the night in Hiroshima and rushed towards the end of the street.

The wind carries the final farewell of Tetsuo.

Goodbye, athletic boy.

Mitsui stood alone in the same spot.

The hot soda in my hand was still warm.

He looked up at the night sky.

The heavy weight that had been pressing on my chest, the shackles called "the past," has finally shattered.

"Yes... I am Mitsui Hisashi."

Mitsui pulled the tab and downed the ice-cold soda in one gulp.

He tossed it casually.

The empty can traced a perfect arc in the air before crashing into a trash can ten meters away.

"I'm... a man who never gives up!"

Mitsui turned around and strode towards the hotel.

The night breeze ruffled his tousled hair, and at that moment, there was no longer any confusion in his eyes.

It all turned into a raging fire that could burn everything.

The night in Hiroshima remains deep.

But that former MVP has risen from the ashes.

……

The morning air in Hiroshima was slightly chilly.

Sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows of the presidential suite, drenching the table without reservation.

After a full night of deep sleep and relaxation in a top-notch hot spring.

The entire Shohoku team is now fully revived.

The muscle soreness accumulated from the continuous high-intensity competition has been completely gone.

Takenori Akagi sat in the main seat, his back ramrod straight.

Ryota Miyagi and Hisashi Mitsui were discussing the upcoming schedule in hushed tones.

Rukawa Kaede was still wearing his eye patch.

He leaned back in his swivel chair, closed his eyes to rest, and his breathing was steady.

Lin Beize sat in the corner.

He twirled a pen in his hand, gazing lazily at the street scene outside the window.

Everything seemed to be in good order.

Until the heavy wooden door was suddenly smashed open from the outside.

boom.

A loud bang shattered the silence of the room.

Ayako burst in like a tornado.

She was covered in sweat.

He was clutching a videotape and a crumpled sports newspaper tightly in his hand.

"Everyone."

Ayako was panting heavily.

Her eyes were wide open like copper bells, and her voice was trembling.

This is incredible!

"Big news has broken."

Sakuragi Hanamichi picked at his ear in annoyance.

"What's wrong, boss?"

Aya rushed to the video recorder in front of the conference table and hurriedly stuffed the videotape into it.

"Look at this!"

Ayako's voice trembled uncontrollably.

The TV screen flickered twice.

The screen lights up.

That was a video recording of the match between Mingpeng Industrial and Changcheng High School.

In the center of the image, an extremely large player wearing the number 15 jersey is positioning himself in the penalty area.

Chang Cheng's ace player, Mikoshiba, and another inside player held him off tightly.

But number 15 simply turned around casually.

boom.

The videotape made a dull thud.

Mikoshiba and his teammates were sent flying like they'd been run over by a bulldozer.

They fell awkwardly to the floor and slid a long way.

And the player number 15 jumped up.

He slammed his hands down on the basket with extreme force.

The basketball hoop was shaking violently, as if it would fall apart at any moment.

The image freezes on the man hanging from the basketball hoop, his cold gaze looking down upon all living beings.

The meeting room was completely silent.

Ryota Miyagi dropped the pen in his hand onto the table with a thud.

Mitsui Hisashi's brows furrowed into a tight knot.

Rukawa Kaede had already pulled down his blindfold at some point.

Those sharp, fox-like eyes were fixed on the screen, and a chilling fighting spirit emanated from his entire body.

Akagi Takenori's face was so gloomy it could drip water.

As a traditional center forward.

He knew better than anyone how terrifyingly powerful that dunk was.

"Mori Shigehiro, a first-year student at Meihou Industrial Co., Ltd."

Ayako swallowed hard.

"These are his game statistics from yesterday."

"He scored a whopping 50 points and grabbed 20 rebounds in a single game."

"He... he's a monster."

"Chang Cheng's inside game was completely torn apart by him alone."

"I heard that Mikoshiba couldn't even stand up after the match."

Ayako's words struck everyone like a heavy hammer.

50 points and 20 rebounds.

This is absolutely a dominant and terrifying statistic on the national stage.

Ayako then played another interview.

A skinny old man was grinning arrogantly at the camera.

"Ah Kuan's physical fitness is the best in the country."

"Our goal at Mingpeng Industrial is singular: to dominate the entire nation."

"No matter which team it is, Ah-Kuan will destroy them."

"No one can stop him from dunking in the paint."

"Nobody's here."