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

The voice was rough, wild, and carried an unyielding arrogance.

Mitsui Hisashi suddenly shuddered.

Those unfocused eyes suddenly contracted.

He looked up at the highest point of the audience.

There stood a man with a messy stubble, wearing a leather jacket, and with an arrogant look in his eyes.

He was gripping the iron railings of the stands tightly with both hands, his veins bulging.

Iron Man!

He leaned half his body over the railing and let out a roar from the depths of his soul towards the field:

"What are you hesitating about?!"

"You idiot!!"

Beside Tie Nan, De Nan and the others suddenly raised a huge flag.

The flag bears four large characters written in bold, unrestrained calligraphy.

Man of Flame!

Nozomi Takamiya, Yuji Oonusu, and Chuichiro Noma—this group of Sakuragi's usually carefree and playful gang.

His face flushed red, and the veins on his neck bulged out.

Yohei Mito even somehow got hold of a large megaphone and started yelling madly at the stadium:

"Mitsui-senpai! Put that damn ball in!!!"

Tie Nan took a deep breath and spat the cigarette he was holding into the ground.

His voice pierced through the noisy stadium, striking directly at Mitsui Hisashi's battered soul:

"But you are..."

"The Man of Flame!!!"

boom--!

This roar, like a thunderclap, exploded in Mitsui Hisashi's mind!

The fog, regret, and despair that had once shrouded his heart were shattered in that instant!

Memories flooded back like a tide, but this time, it was no longer darkness.

The image flashed by.

That night.

Before Tetsuo got on his motorcycle, he uttered the words that drifted away in the wind: "Goodbye, sporty boy."

Inside the gymnasium, I knelt on the smooth wooden floor, tears streaming down my face.

"Coach...I want to play basketball..."

Coach Anzai gently patted his shoulder with his broad, warm hand.

"Mitsui-kun, it's so good to have you here."

The scene then changes.

Under the lights of the Chicago Bulls' training facility.

Lin Bei, who always sits on the sidelines.

He twirled a basketball in his hand, his tone extremely arrogant yet revealing a strange trust.

"Mitsui-senpai, your shooting form is more perfect than a textbook."

"But let me make this clear from the start," Lin Bei said, pointing at his nose with a wicked grin.

"If it gets to the finals, would you dare miss a wide-open three-pointer that even a grandma could make..."

"As soon as the competition ends, I'll arrange a private jet to send you to Africa to mine!"

"Meals and accommodation included, no leave allowed!"

Thinking of this, Mitsui Hisashi's lips twitched involuntarily.

Then, a relieved, arrogant, and overbearing smile slowly bloomed on his face.

That's the pride of the junior high MVP!

That's the confidence of Shohoku's strongest shooter!

"Yeah... what am I afraid of?"

"Those past two years have been destroyed by my own hands, and they can never come back."

"No matter how much I regret it or how much I blame myself, time cannot be turned back."

"But I'm still standing here! I'm still wearing this number 14 jersey!"

"What I possess is now!"

All distracting thoughts were completely cut off at this moment.

The heavy, leaden feeling in my body seemed to be burned away by a fire that appeared out of nowhere.

Mitsui Hisashi took a deep breath.

From the deepest part of the soul, the last and most extreme potential was extracted!

"Buzz—!!!"

A faint, yet powerfully resonant, high-frequency buzzing sound echoed through the stadium.

next second.

Mitsui Hisashi slowly opened his eyes.

Suddenly, a dazzling emerald green electric light burst forth from those eyes that were originally bloodshot from exhaustion!

Zone!

The domain that belongs exclusively to Mitsui Hisashi—the Right Hand of God!

Sidelines.

Lin Bei, who had been lazily leaning back in his chair, finally managed a satisfied smile.

He casually tossed the mineral water bottle into the air.

"There's no such thing as being exhausted."

"With his current physical condition, he is more than capable of playing the entire game."

"He was just mentally disturbed by that guy named Kageyama."

Coach Anzai pushed up his reflective glasses and chuckled.

"Nothing can stop Mitsui now."

on the field.

The terrifying pressure that erupted with lightning made the hairs on Kageyama's body stand on end, even though he was just watching the show!

"Danger!"

The creature's instincts frantically alerted Kageyama.

The playful expression on his face vanished, replaced by extreme terror.

"Don't vote!"

With a strange cry, Kageyama pounced on the enemy from two steps away like a mad dog!

In order to block Mitsui's shooting space, he even made an extremely dirty and dangerous move in the air.

He stretched out his foot and stepped straight down onto the cylindrical object where Mitsui had landed!

This is a career-ruining stepping stone!

"You bastard! How dare you!"

Sakuragi Hanamichi, seeing everything clearly from inside, was filled with rage.

But at this moment, Mitsui Hisashi's heart was as still as water, as calm as a still well.

Once he entered the "Right Hand of God" state, all he could see was that orange-red basketball hoop.

Take off.

Even though his legs were aching, he still managed to get up.

Three perfect 90-degree angles.

Elbows, wrists, knees.

Even in mid-air, his body balance remained in a breathtakingly perfect state.

Kageyama's massive body slammed into him!

The violent impact slammed directly into Mitsui's chest.

"Beep—!!!"

The referee's whistle blared! Defensive foul!

However, in the midst of an extremely violent loss of balance, at the very last moment before falling backward.

Mitsui Hisashi's right wrist pressed down gently, as gracefully as a swan's neck.

The incredibly wonderful sensation of the basketball leaving your hand is felt through your fingertips.

A streak of emerald green lightning clung to the basketball.

The basketball traced a breathtakingly beautiful parabola through the air, soaring high into the clouds.

The eyes of tens of thousands of people in the stadium followed the basketball as it slowly moved through the air.

The world seemed to stand still at that moment.

"Whoosh—!!!"

What a crisp and melodious sound it was, swishing the net!

The basketball didn't even touch the edge of the rim; it swished through the net!

3+1!!!

"boom--!!!"

After a few tenths of a second of silence, the entire stadium erupted into a raging tsunami powerful enough to lift the dome!

"It's in! It actually went in!"

"A three-pointer made despite the foul! A four-point play!"

"Unbelievable! Is this Shohoku's sharpshooter?!"

The commentator's voice was so hoarse it was cracking.

"Well done, mistress!"

Ryota Miyagi and Hanamichi Sakuragi charged over frantically.

Kageyama crashed heavily to the floor.

He ignored the excruciating pain coursing through his body, staring blankly at the man with unfocused eyes.

The man who, even after being knocked over, maintained a perfect wrist-pressing motion in mid-air.

"How is that possible..."

"He clearly..."

"He can barely stand up..."