Inside the cramped little shop, the air froze in an instant.
The lively noise from moments ago was cut off as if someone had hit a mute button.
Sakuragi Hanamichi still had half a slice of pork belly hanging from his mouth, eyes bulging wide.
"Monkey Boss?!"
The tongs in Akagi Takenori's hand clattered onto the table with a sharp clang.
It wasn't fear.
It was because he saw it—
That eerie, green glow in the eyes of the people behind Uozumi.
That look…
The gaze of carb-devouring monsters.
"Yo."
"What a coincidence. Everyone's here."
Sendoh Akira waved casually, smiling as he squeezed his way inside like he owned the place.
"I heard…"
"Captain Akagi is treating today?"
His eyes swept across the mountain of meat piled on the table before settling on Akagi's rapidly paling face.
"Since it's a celebration, you don't mind a few extra pairs of chopsticks, right?"
"After all, friendship comes first."
Before Akagi could even refuse—
Uozumi Jun had already found a spot and sat down heavily across from him.
"Boss! Add ten plates—"
"No, make that twenty plates of premium pork belly!"
His voice boomed like a temple bell, making the plates rattle.
"And beef tongue! Skirt steak! Intestines!"
"If it's meat, bring it all! Hurry!"
Akagi Takenori: "..."
"Hey! Monkey Boss!"
"This is Shohoku territory!" Sakuragi slammed the table and stood up.
"Shut it, red-haired monkey!"
"I may have lost on the court, but at the table, I refuse to lose!"
"Tonight, either you eat until you burst, or I do!"
Uozumi glared fiercely, gripping his tongs like a weapon—his presence even more intimidating than during the game.
"Bring it on!"
Sakuragi instantly ignited. "You think I'm scared?!"
What had started as a Shohoku victory party instantly devolved into a full-blown Kanagawa yakiniku war.
The already cramped shop hit maximum capacity, forcing both teams to squeeze together at shared tables.
Rivals on the court…
Now shoulder to shoulder, back to back.
But in their hands, the tongs blurred into afterimages, battling fiercely over the grill.
"Snap!"
Rukawa Kaede locked onto a perfectly sizzling piece of beef, just about to grab it—
When another pair of chopsticks struck like a viper and stole it mid-air.
Sendoh popped the meat into his mouth, eyes half-closed in satisfaction.
"Ah… medium-rare. Nice control of the heat, Rukawa."
Rukawa's deadpan eyes widened slightly, killing intent practically materializing.
"You—"
"Want another piece?" Sendoh lifted his chopsticks provocatively.
On the other side, Fukuda Kicchou acted like an emotionless eating machine, silently sweeping every piece of meat in front of him into oblivion.
"Hey! Fukuda! That was mine!" Koshino wailed, clutching his plate like his life depended on it.
The fiercest battlefield, however, was right next to Makino Juro.
He had only wanted to eat in peace—
But somehow, Aida Hikoichi had squeezed in beside him.
Notebook in hand, drooling as he scribbled frantically:
"Incredible! Juro-senpai's eating speed…"
"Although it looks slow and relaxed, each piece disappears in under one second!"
"Is this some kind of high-speed consumption technique?!"
"I must record this! Absolutely must!"
"..."
Makino Juro's eye twitched.
Without a word, he picked up a freshly grilled, sizzling piece of meat and shoved it straight into Hikoichi's mouth.
"Shut up. Eat."
"Mmph!!"
Hikoichi instantly burned his mouth, flailing wildly—but refused to spit it out.
Tears streaming down his face, he still gave a thumbs-up.
The tiny shop filled with smoke, curses, chewing, and clinking glasses—all blending into one chaotic symphony.
This was youth.
One second, they were trying to kill each other on the court.
The next, they were fighting over a single slice of pork belly.
Sweat mixed with the aroma of grilled meat—
This was what youth smelled like.
And yet…
Amid all this fiery chaos—
One man was living through absolute hell.
Akagi Takenori sat at the head of the table, completely petrified—cracking apart inside.
He watched as Uozumi devoured expensive premium beef like it was water.
Watched Sendoh and Rukawa treat beef tongue like snacks.
Watched Sakuragi and Takamiya compete over who could eat faster.
Even Uekusa—the one who looked the most honest—was quietly ordering more dishes.
Every time someone shouted, "Boss, more meat!"
It felt like a hammer smashing directly into Akagi's fragile nerves.
His wallet…
No—this was beyond a wallet problem now.
This was selling-his-soul territory.
Akagi's face cycled from black to red to pale—finally settling into a heartbreaking shade of ashen green.
His trembling hand lifted a glass of water, but he couldn't even bring it to his lips.
These bastards…
Are they seriously planning to eat me alive too?!
Just as darkness began creeping into his vision—
His desperate gaze cut through the smoke and landed on the most relaxed figure in the room.
Makino Juro.
The hidden tycoon who could buy a luxury sports store without blinking.
The rich guy who wore limited-edition sneakers and practically slept on the court.
Right now, Makino Juro was calmly flipping a piece of premium marbled beef—
Graceful, almost elegant, like he was dining at a high-end French restaurant, completely detached from the chaos.
Sensing the gaze filled with desperation and resentment—
Juro tilted his head slightly, cola straw between his lips, sleepy eyes meeting Akagi's.
Akagi's eyes said everything in one sentence:
Save me. Save me. Save me.
Juro raised an eyebrow.
He swallowed his bite, a playful curve forming on his lips.
He pointed at Akagi, then at the mountain of plates—
And finally made a money-counting gesture.
Akagi nodded frantically, tears practically spilling out.
As long as you pay, you're my brother!
I'll even let you call me Little Aka!
Makino Juro smiled.
Slowly, he stood up.
At that moment, Akagi felt like a savior had descended—
Bathed in the holy light of money.
"Boss!"
Makino Juro's voice cut cleanly through the noise.
Everyone stopped and turned toward today's MVP.
Akagi looked at him with hope, heart pounding.
Makino Juro cleared his throat and shouted:
"Since everyone's having such a great time…"
"Add two more pitchers of draft beer to every table!"
"Put it on Captain Akagi's tab!"
"BOOM!"
The entire place erupted.
"Juro, you're the best! Captain Akagi, so generous!"
"Drink! We're not going home sober tonight!"
Akagi's expression froze—
Then shattered piece by piece, his soul leaving his body.
"MAKINO—JURO—!!!"
The anguished roar nearly blew the roof off the shop.
Makino Juro sat back down.
Watching Akagi on the verge of cardiac arrest, he spread his hands innocently and mouthed:
"Just kidding."
Then, he casually pulled out a sleek black credit card from his pocket and placed it on the corner of the table.
That single card—
Seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.
It instantly stabilized Akagi's exploding heart.
Akagi collapsed back into his chair, utterly drained, letting out a long breath like he'd just run ten marathons.
Through the haze of smoke, he looked at his noisy teammates—and even his rivals.
Every face was greasy, smiling, stupidly happy.
…Forget it.
A faint smile crept onto Akagi's lips.
A night like this…
Wasn't so bad.
Of course—
If that idiot Sakuragi could eat a little less, it'd be even better.
"Boss! We're out of meat!"
"Bring ten bowls of ramen to finish things off!"
"..."
Akagi slowly closed his eyes.
Just end it already.
END OF CHAPTER
You can access now the advanced chapters of this game!
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
👉 patreon.com/MrBehringer