"BEEEEEP!!!"
The piercing buzzer screamed like a blade heated red-hot, slicing clean through the tension stretched to its absolute limit on the court.
The red numbers on the scoreboard were dazzling—and cruel.
92:68.
Not a narrow victory.
A complete and utter massacre.
Shohoku—wins.
"Is… is it over?"
On the bench, Yasuda, Shiozaki, and the others froze for a full two seconds, as if someone had cast a paralysis spell on them.
Then..
Like a pressure cooker exploding, overwhelming joy burst forth!
"We won!! We took down Ryonan!!"
"We're going to the finals!!"
The bench instantly emptied.
Kakuta Satoru got so excited he tripped over his own foot, faceplanting hard—but he scrambled up immediately, roaring as he charged onto the court.
At this moment, they were all wild horses off their reins, throwing away all sense of dignity as they rushed toward the starters.
To hell with tactics! To hell with composure!
Right now, there was only one thing to do—
ROAR.
In the stands.
"Nice!!!"
Mito Yōhei slammed his fist hard against the metal railing.
His knuckles turned white from the impact, but he didn't feel a thing, his grin stretching ear to ear.
Beside him, Takamiya, Ohkusu, and Noma were already tangled into a laughing, shouting pile.
"That idiot Hanamichi… he really pulled it off this time."
Yōhei stared at the red-haired figure on the court, his eyes full of amusement and pride.
Nearby—
Akagi Haruko covered her mouth tightly, tears streaming down like broken beads.
She wanted to scream, but her throat felt stuffed with cotton. All she could do was wave her arms desperately.
Through her blurred vision, she locked onto that one figure—
The one who wasn't celebrating wildly, but instead stood lazily off to the side.
"Juro-kun… Big Brother… Sakuragi-kun… Rukawa-kun…"
"Everyone… everyone is a hero…"
The most outrageous sight?
The Rukawa Fan Club.
The three girls leading them had cried their makeup into complete ruin.
Their eyeliner was smeared everywhere—but their flags still waved like afterimages.
Crying as they chanted:
"Rukawa Kaede! Take my life! Rukawa Kaede! The strongest! Waaaaah!"
The scene was chaotic.
And utterly surreal.
Center Court
Compared to the madness of the bench, the players themselves reacted very differently.
Akagi Takenori stood beneath the basket, still in his box-out stance—like a stone statue.
Sweat dripped down his resolute jaw, shattering against the hardwood floor.
Only after the buzzer faded and his teammates' roars flooded his ears did a sharp pain finally shoot from his ankle to his skull.
"Hiss…"
He sucked in a breath, his body swaying slightly.
The adrenaline that had numbed everything during the game was gone.
But he didn't sit.
Instead, he straightened his back—
Like a towering mountain.
He lifted his head, eyes locked onto the word "Shohoku" on the scoreboard.
They won.
They really won.
They had stepped over their long-time rival Ryonan—
Crushed Uozumi's ambitions—
And advanced to the finals.
To face Kainan.
"…We're really strong."
Akagi muttered, his eyes instantly turning red.
Three years.
From being mocked as "a one-man team dragging dead weight"—
To now, standing with these troublesome—but reliable—teammates.
Damn…
It felt good.
"GORILLA!!"
A loud yell shattered the moment.
Sakuragi Hanamichi came flying in like a red cannonball, arms wide open—
That expression looked less like a hug and more like a chokehold.
"Wahahaha! Didn't this genius say we'd win?!"
"See that?!"
Veins bulged on Akagi's forehead as his iron fist instinctively clenched...
But when he saw Sakuragi's radiant grin—
That raised fist turned into a hug instead.
BAM! BAM!
He pounded Sakuragi's back hard.
"Good job, Sakuragi."
"…Huh?"
Sakuragi froze.
Then his face flushed red, twisting awkwardly like a shy girl.
"W-What's with you, Gorilla… getting all emotional… even this genius is getting goosebumps…"
Before he could finish—
His peripheral vision caught a certain figure sneaking toward the resting area.
Lazy. Unbothered.
As if the monster who dominated the game earlier was someone else entirely.
"MASTER!!"
Sakuragi's eyes lit up.
He instantly abandoned Akagi and lunged toward Makino Juro.
"Master!! Teach me!"
"If I learn that, I'll become the ultimate genius of the universe!"
Arms wide—like a starving tiger pouncing.
Makino Juro didn't even lift his eyelids.
Just as Sakuragi's fingertips were about to touch his clothes—
Makino Juro casually shifted half a step forward and to the side.
"THUD!"
Sakuragi flew straight past him.
Sliding across the floor in a perfect "face-first landing," stopping precisely at Rukawa's feet.
Rukawa looked down at the red head by his shoes and coldly said:
"Idiot."
"What did you say, you damn fox?!"
Sakuragi sprang up instantly, ready to fight.
Juro yawned, hands in his pockets.
"Don't wipe your snot on me next time."
"You can't learn that move—you'll have to pay an IQ tax."
"What?!"
"You dare question this genius's intelligence?!"
Elsewhere
Miyagi Ryota was at the peak of his life.
"Ryota!"
Ayako held her paper fan—but instead of hitting him as usual—
She smiled and handed him a towel.
"You played amazing today. Seriously cool."
"C-Cool…?"
Miyagi froze.
Then he looked like he had drunk two bottles of fake alcohol, floating in bliss as pink bubbles filled his world.
"Ayako said I'm cool… Ayako said I'm cool…"
His usually cocky face now looked like a fool's, grinning uncontrollably.
In the corner of the bench.
Kogure Kiminobu removed his glasses, wiping his tears with his jersey.
But no matter how much he wiped, they wouldn't stop.
Three years of endurance—
And still, the fire never cooled.
From nobodies...
To slaying a powerhouse.
This joy weighed more than a thousand pounds.
"Alright, Kogure."
A hand rested on his shoulder.
Mitsui Hisashi stood there, holding a water bottle. Sweat ran down his face, a faint smirk on his lips—but his eyes were unusually gentle.
"Stop crying. A grown man crying like that—it's not a good look."
"Mitsui…"
Kogure sniffed, trying to smile but failing.
Mitsui patted his back and glanced at the scoreboard.
"Looks like neither you nor Akagi need to retire early."
"Our summer…"
"…has only just begun."
Kogure nodded heavily, putting his glasses back on.
The world came back into focus.
Yeah.
It's not over.
We're going to Nationals—
To conquer everything.
Stadium Exit
A group of tall figures in casual clothes prepared to leave.
Shōyō High.
Fujima Kenji walked at the very back.
Just before stepping into the shadows—
He stopped.
Then turned back.
His gaze pierced through the noisy crowd—
And locked precisely onto Makino Juro, who was already looking for a place to nap.
After losing to Shohoku before, Fujima could still tell himself—
It was carelessness.
That being both player and coach distracted him.
But today…
After witnessing Makino Juro's brutal performance...
That suffocating dominance felt like a mountain pressing down on his chest.
The unwillingness in his heart…
Slowly fermented into deep wariness.
And a trace....
Of admiration.
"Makino Juro…"
END OF CHAPTER
You can access now the advanced chapters of this game!
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
👉 patreon.com/MrBehringer