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

The farce on the field did not last long.

The referee gave Sakuragi a warning with a dark expression, and the game continued.

Shohoku has possession of the ball.

Ryota Miyagi dribbles the ball across half-court.

After that little incident, the atmosphere on the field became a bit strange.

The Ryonan players were all holding their breath, especially Kichijo Fukuda.

The coach was humiliated, and as his disciple, he felt an unprecedented anger.

"Give me the ball!"

Sakuragi Hanamichi loudly called for the ball in the low post.

His confidence has now reached its peak.

Miyagi glanced at the inside line.

Uozumi was tightly entangled by Akagi, leaving only Sakuragi with a chance.

"then!"

With a flick of his wrist, Miyagi sent the basketball flying precisely toward Sakuragi.

"Snapped!"

Sakuragi caught the ball steadily.

This time, he wasn't as loud and boisterous as before.

Instead, he held the ball with both hands, turned around, and faced Fukuda Kichijou head-on.

The two were so close that they could hear each other's heavy breathing.

"Hey, Afu."

Sakuragi's voice suddenly lowered, losing its usual playful tone and gaining an unusual seriousness.

"I'll get past you just like I did before."

Sakuragi's eyes were sharp as he stared directly into Fukuda's gloomy eyes.

"Although I'm younger than you..."

"But unfortunately, on this field, being bad is the original sin!"

These words resonated deeply.

Gone was the previous unreasonable argument; instead, a powerful confidence emanated from him.

That ambition grew after Lin Bei's special training and countless hours of hard work.

Fukuda Kichijo's pupils suddenly contracted.

He sensed it.

The red-haired guy in front of me has changed.

He's no longer that novice who only knows how to make jokes, but a real opponent.

Fukuda slowly lowered his center of gravity and spread his arms like a fully drawn bow.

"Then bring it on."

"I'll show you what a beating from a senior is like." Fukuda's voice was icy, each word like iron.

The war is about to start.

All eyes were on the two of them.

This is a battle of dignity, talent, and trash talk.

Sakuragi Hanamichi gripped the basketball tightly with both hands.

In his mind, the movements Lin Bei had taught him were replaying.

"Sakuragi, the essence of a feint isn't about how precise the movement is."

"The key lies in—deception!"

"To make your opponent believe you're going that way, even if your movements look foolish, as long as you can deceive them, that's a divine skill!"

"Hehehe..."

Sakuragi suddenly grinned, a sly smile playing on his lips.

next second.

He moved.

There were no signs whatsoever.

Sakuragi Hanamichi's upper body suddenly tilted sharply to the right.

The amplitude was so great that it looked as if the person was about to fall face-first to the ground.

Even the ball in his hand wobbled, making him look extremely clumsy, like a beginner who had lost his balance.

"?!"

Fukuda Kichijo was startled.

My first reaction was, "What is this guy going to do?"

But then, his body's defensive instincts made him subconsciously shift his weight to the left, preparing to block.

"Now!"

Just as Fukuda's center of gravity shifted.

Sakuragi's body, which looked like it was about to fall, was miraculously stopped!

It's like a video suddenly being paused.

Followed by.

"call!"

Sakuragi suddenly swerved to the left!

This time, the movements were even more exaggerated and stiff than before.

It was like a rusty robot that had been powered on, its limbs twitching uncoordinatedly.

This move is completely contrary to basketball kinesiology; it can even be described as ugly.

but!

It was too fast! It was too sudden!

It's full of unpredictability!

Where has Fukuda Kichijo ever seen this kind of "frame-dropping" fake action?

He had just shifted his weight back when he was startled by the sudden second blow.

"What...what kind of weird move is this?!"

Fukuda's mind was in chaos, and his body couldn't keep up with his thoughts.

His footing seemed to have tripped over garlic, and he staggered, his defensive stance collapsing instantly.

"hey-hey!"

Sakuragi Hanamichi seized upon this fleeting opening.

"This is the secret technique I created myself—"

"Left, Right, Right - The Genius Shakes Around!"

A triumphant smile appeared on that arrogant face.

Fukuda Kichijou felt his throat was a little dry.

"Glug."

The sound of swallowing was particularly jarring in the air between the two.

He stared wide-eyed at the red-haired first-year student in front of him.

Absolutely unpredictable!

Cold sweat trickled down Fukuda's temples and dripped onto the floor.

"I didn't expect this..."

"You... you actually know how to do that..."

He remained stiffly in a defensive stance, his CPU practically burning out.

The Ryonan bench erupted in chaos.

"Idiot! Ah Fu! Are you questioning the meaning of life?!"

His teammates on the bench were so anxious that they sprang from their chairs, waving towels and roaring:

Don't be fooled by those cheap, low-quality sales tactics!

"That wasn't a feint at all!"

"That's just plain bad coordination, you bastard!"

"He can't get past you! Stick close to him!"

However, Fukuda on the field had clearly fallen into some kind of logical dead end.

His teammates' shouts reached his ears, but were automatically filtered into electronic music.

On the coach's bench, Shigeichi Taoka clutched his forehead in pain, feeling a migraine attacking his brain.

"Fukuda's defense..."

"It really is a huge sieve!"

"To be tricked into a stun by such a bronze-level swaying move, this guy's defensive awareness is practically nonexistent!"

Taoka gritted his teeth, digging his fingers deep into his hair roots, wishing he could pluck a handful of hair from his head.

……

On the field.

Sakuragi Hanamichi looked at Fukuda, who was frozen in place like a statue, and his mouth was practically splitting open with laughter.

That smug expression was absolutely infuriating.

"Hmph hmph hmph..."

Sakuragi gripped the ball with both hands but did not choose to break through immediately.

Instead, he struck a pose that he thought was incredibly cool.

He raised his chin, looking down at Fukuda with disdain, and began his signature "genius mini-class":

"You're scared to death by this genius, aren't you?"

"The so-called genius..."

Sakuragi's tone was as profound as that of a recently graduated philosopher:

"It's 99% talent, plus 1%..."

Before he could finish speaking...

A dark figure emerged from Sakuragi's blind spot like an assassin.

Lingnan No. 6, off-road Hongming.

He simply couldn't take it anymore.

While Sakuragi was giving his "acceptance speech," Koshino's eyes flashed with a cold light that seemed to say, "I'll punish you."

"Enough with the nonsense! Give it to me!"

He roared inwardly, his right hand moving like a sharp blade drawn from its sheath.

"Snapped!"

A crisp sound.

The basketball in Sakuragi's hands was ruthlessly sliced ​​away.

"What?!"

Sakuragi's speech came to an abrupt end.

Still holding the outstretched finger, his entire body instantly turned to stone and shattered.

The ball in my hand...where is the ball?

"You big idiot!!!"

A deafening roar exploded.

Akagi Takenori was so angry that his facial features were contorted, and his large, dark face was now as ferocious as a rampaging Vajra.

"The game isn't over yet! What are you doing, acting all cool!"

"Get back on defense! Get back on defense right now!"