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

Lin Bei's eyes were icy cold.

His right arm, like a giant axe, slammed down on the basket with earth-shattering force!

boom--! ! !

A powerful tomahawk dunk!

The basketball was slammed into the net!

The immense impact caused the entire basketball hoop to shake violently, and the tempered glass backboard creaked under the strain.

The scoreboard beats coldly.

54: 37!

The stadium fell silent for two seconds.

Immediately afterwards, a terrifying sound erupted, powerful enough to blow off the roof!

"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!"

"He made a fool of Morishige Hiroshi!"

"That's Chinese Kung Fu?! It knocked that monster down completely!"

"Shohoku's number 16 is invincible!"

The other end of the stadium.

Morishige Hiroshi knelt down on the floor.

Huge hands braced against the ground, drenched in sweat.

He looked up blankly at Lin Bei's back, his mind blank.

Why?

My pride and joy... how did it end up hitting cotton?

What the hell is this monster?!

Sidelines.

Click!

Coach Mingpeng crushed the tactics board in his hand.

He was completely unaware that a shard of plastic had pierced his palm.

He stared at Lin Bei on the field, trembling all over.

The arrogant look in his eyes before the match was now replaced by despair.

How can we continue this competition?

Lin Beisong opened the basket and landed lightly.

Ignoring the frenzied cheers from the crowd, he turned and walked back to his half of the field at a leisurely pace.

He stopped as he passed Morishige Hiroshi, who was kneeling on the ground.

He lowered his head slightly, his dark golden eyes looking down at the monster.

There was no mockery, only the cold indifference of watching someone as an ant.

Lin Bei parted his thin lips slightly and uttered a sentence that sent chills down the spines of everyone at Mingpeng:

"Don't rush, the real hell has only just begun."

……

"Beep—!"

The referee's whistle ripped through the suffocating air inside the stadium.

Meihou Industrial's baseline serve.

The intense light from the dome shone on the bright yellow wooden floor, making it impossible to open one's eyes.

Mingpeng's point guard stood outside the baseline, clutching the orange basketball tightly.

He was panting heavily, sweat pouring into his eyes.

My ten fingers were twitching uncontrollably.

Through the layers of people, he looked in horror toward the top of the arc.

No. 16, Xiangbei, Linbei.

Those dark golden eyes watched him quietly.

There were no superfluous emotions, yet the chill was so intense it made you feel a coldness seeping into your very bones.

It was like looking at a dead person.

Lin Bei didn't even get into a defensive stance.

But the oppressive feeling belonging to the "Heavenly Emperor" directly transformed into an invisible giant hand, tightly gripping Mingpeng's guard's throat.

"Hurry up and send it! The eggs are incubating over there! Time's up!"

Coach Mingpeng was so anxious on the sidelines that he was jumping up and down, spitting everywhere.

The point guard swallowed hard, forcibly pressing down his trembling legs.

He kept a close eye on the shooting guard who was making a run down the wing.

The distance is very short, and the route is absolutely safe.

He gritted his teeth, exerted force with both arms, and pushed the ball out hard.

Right in this very second.

A dazzling dark golden light burst forth in Lin Bei's eyes.

The eye of the Heavenly Emperor is all-knowing and all-powerful.

In Lin Bei's deconstructed worldview, the passing route had long been clearly marked by a scarlet dotted line.

Even the air resistance of a basketball's rotation and the muscle reaction of the receiver are stripped bare by computing power.

"The movements are too stiff."

Lin Bei's icy voice, like the Grim Reaper striking right next to Mingpeng's point guard, exploded in his ear.

next second.

Lin Bei's figure vanished from the spot.

The rubber of the sneakers rubbed violently against the wooden floor, producing a piercing shriek.

He was as fast as lightning, cutting straight into that "foolproof" passing lane.

With a nimble scoop, the long, slender arm scooped it up.

Snapped.

The ball landed steadily in his palm.

The outcome was a foregone conclusion.

"Damn it! He anticipated my prediction! Quick, get back on defense!"

Mingpeng's point guard let out a desperate scream.

But it was too late.

Lin Bei landed without pausing, slamming his right foot heavily onto the floor.

He was like a heavy cannonball fired from a gun, piercing straight into Mingpeng's empty basket.

"Don't be so arrogant!"

Inside the Mingpeng restricted area, a colossal creature unleashed a furious roar.

Morishige Hiroshi.

This heavy tank, weighing over 100 kilograms, actually managed to complete its extreme retreat with an explosive force that was completely unreasonable.

His legs suddenly sank down, and he violently rose up from the ground.

A massive, sky-covering shadow, accompanied by a fierce wind, blocked all routes of attack.

An ordinary person, faced with such a crushing force that could break ribs, would have been terrified and thrown the ball away long ago.

But Lin Bei didn't even blink.

Instead of slowing down, he pressed the accelerator to the floor against the overwhelming force.

Two figures of vastly different sizes are about to collide in mid-air.

In a life-or-death moment when they were less than half a meter apart.

Lin Bei performed an extreme move that completely defied ergonomics.

Aomine Daiki's template, no fixed shooting form.

Even when completely off balance, Lin Bei's waist and abdomen displayed superhuman flexibility.

His upper body was almost parallel to the floor, and his whole body twisted into an exaggerated pretzel shape in the air.

Like a slippery eel, it smoothly dodged Morishige Hiroshi's large, fan-like hands.

Then, he casually tossed his right hand, which was at the bottom of his body, upwards.

That's too casual.

It's like getting up in the morning and casually throwing a crumpled piece of paper into a trash can two meters away.

Morishige Hiroshi stared wide-eyed in mid-air, his face a picture of utter disbelief.

How could you possibly make a shot when you can't even see the rim?!

Tens of thousands of people in the stadium stared intently at the basketball that traced a strange arc.

boom.

The basketball slammed precisely into the top right corner of the backboard.

Rebound, then fall.

Swish.

A crisp sound of netting rang out, and white net flowers tumbled and bloomed.

The scoreboard beats coldly.

56: 37.

There was a two-second silence in the stadium.

Immediately afterwards, a frantic roar erupted, nearly lifting the roof off.

"They even let them in? I'm speechless!"

"He's treating Mingpeng's defenses like his own backyard! He's going on a killing spree!"

Morishige Hiroshi's massive body slammed onto the floor with a dull thud.

He staggered a couple of steps, his legs feeling weak.

He looked up, staring intently at the still-shaking basketball hoop, sweat dripping down his face.

His once arrogant and violent gaze gradually shattered.

Instead, there was a frenzy akin to seeing a priceless treasure.

His mouth stretched into an uncontrollable grin, making him look like a 200-pound idiot.

"Basketball...it's so much fun!"

Lin Bei landed lightly, without even glancing at Sen Shigehiro.

As he passed by the petrochemical-equipped Mingpeng point guard, he casually tossed out a remark.

"Keep serving, don't keep me waiting too long."

The rest of the match turned into a one-man massacre by Lin Bei.

Mingpeng's proud twin-tower strategy was as fragile as paper in front of Lin Bei.

He scores points as easily as drinking water.

With his abnormal vision, he unleashed Shohoku's offensive firepower to its fullest extent.

"Rukawa!"

Lin Bei had just crossed the halfway line when he was instantly surrounded by three players.

Without even turning his head, he suddenly flicked his wrist in the extremely small space.

The basketball whizzed past the defender's crotch with a sonic boom.

Accelerate the pass.