Makino Juro lounged lazily against the back of his chair.
A bottle of mineral water dangled from his hand as his shoulders shook with laughter. He was laughing so hard he nearly wet himself.
"I think Hanamichi is operating on a whole different plane with this one."
Never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, Makino Juro added:
"Putting Captain Akagi's photo up there as an offering actually does have a pretty good intimidation effect."
"Look at the Takezato players. Their faces have turned green."
Everyone turned to look.
Sure enough, in Takezato High's bench area, several players were staring over with expressions of pure terror, as if they were looking at a group of lunatics.
From their perspective, every single member of Shohoku looked like a villain.
The bald and ferocious Sakuragi Hanamichi.
The delinquent Miyagi Ryota.
The former gang leader Mitsui Hisashi.
And then there was Makino Juro—the "Tyrant" who was smiling now, yet somehow gave everyone the feeling that he might snap and start beating people up at any moment.
And now they had even set up what looked suspiciously like a memorial portrait.
Was this some kind of yakuza blood-oath ceremony?
...
The atmosphere in the stands had already reached a fever pitch.
As the biggest dark horse of this year's Kanagawa Tournament, Shohoku's status was no longer what it used to be.
"SHOHOKU! SHOHOKU!"
"CRUSH Takezato!"
"CONQUER THE NATION!"
The cheers surged like a tsunami.
Among the sea of roaring male fans, several groups of girls stood out, waving pink banners reading "Rukawa Kaede Fan Club" and "Makino Juro Support Association."
At the press table, Aida Yayoi's pen flew across her notebook, her expression serious.
"Boss, there's no suspense in this match, right?"
"Takezato is the weakest of the traditional powerhouses. Shohoku even beat Kainan. Isn't this basically a formality?"
Nakamura adjusted his camera beside her, looking puzzled.
"No, Nakamura. Your perspective is too narrow."
"The significance of this game is a coronation."
Aida Yayoi pushed up her glasses. A cold gleam flashed across the lenses.
She drew a heavy circle in her notebook.
"Shohoku is 2–0, with 4 points."
"Kainan and Ryonan are both 1–1, with 3 points."
"As long as Shohoku wins today, they'll reach 6 points with a perfect 3–0 record."
"No matter what happens in tomorrow's Kainan versus Ryonan match, Shohoku will secure the championship outright."
"This is Shohoku's final battle for the throne of Kanagawa."
"I see!"
"So today is basically the coronation ceremony of the Shohoku Dynasty?!"
Nakamura immediately understood and excitedly raised his camera toward the court.
"Exactly."
Aida Yayoi looked toward the red-uniformed figure on the floor, her gaze complicated.
"The dynasty of Kanagawa has already changed hands."
...
Takezato High's bench.
The atmosphere was so oppressive it felt as though water could be squeezed from the air.
The Takezato coach kept wiping the sweat from his forehead, yet it refused to stop.
Watching his players sit there looking like they had just attended a funeral, he felt bitterness welling up inside him.
But he had no choice.
He had to pump them up.
"Raise your heads!"
The coach roared, trying to awaken his flock of dead-eyed ostriches.
"You've already lost your fighting spirit before the game even started?!"
"Shohoku's made up of high school students too—they're not Godzilla!"
"They only beat Kainan because of dumb luck!"
"Now that Akagi Takenori isn't here, their interior defense is a vacuum! A free withdrawal machine!"
"Even if we can't advance, we can't let them shave our heads bald!"
"If nothing else, fight for your pride as men!"
"DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
"...Yeah..."
The Takezato players responded weakly.
Their voices were barely louder than mosquitoes.
Pride?
They glanced at Sakuragi Hanamichi, who was currently using his shiny bald head to reflect the arena lights in an apparent attempt to blind his opponents.
Then they looked at Makino Juro, the "Tyrant" who had massacred Kainan and was now wearing an amused smile.
This wasn't even the same dimension of competition.
BEEP!
The referee's whistle sounded.
The game began.
The moment Shohoku's starting lineup was announced, the entire arena erupted.
No Rukawa Kaede.
No Makino Juro.
Not even Akagi Takenori.
On the floor stood Miyagi Ryota, Mitsui Hisashi, Sakuragi Hanamichi, Kakuta Satoru, and Yasuda Yasuharu.
"What does this mean?"
"Shohoku's looking down on them?"
"Three starters and two bench players?"
"Are they treating Takezato like practice bots?"
The crowd buzzed with discussion.
A glint flashed in the Takezato coach's eyes.
A lifeline.
"Opportunity!"
"They've gotten arrogant!"
"Break through their defense and teach them a lesson!"
Unfortunately, reality was far crueler than dreams.
And it came with barbs attached.
Only five minutes into the game.
The scoreboard read:
28 : 16
Shohoku led by twelve.
"So fast..."
Takezato's point guard felt like his lungs were about to explode.
As he stared at the short figure darting around the court like a bolt of lightning, despair filled his eyes.
After stealing the ball, Miyagi Ryota didn't rush the fast break.
Instead, he raised a finger and grinned mischievously.
"Take it easy."
"No need to rush."
"Let the basketball fly for a while."
The instant his opponent relaxed, assuming he was setting up a half-court offense—
Miyagi flicked his wrist.
Whoosh!
The basketball shot between the legs of two Takezato defenders as though it had eyes of its own, rocketing straight toward the paint.
There...
A bright red bald head shone like a lighthouse.
"THE GORILLA'S TRUE TEACHINGS!"
"GENIUS DUNK!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi caught the pass.
Facing Takezato's center, he didn't bother with any fancy moves.
He simply jumped.
The terrifying leap instantly established absolute air superiority over the territory known as the paint.
Takezato's center tried to contest.
Only to discover, in utter despair, that after jumping with every ounce of strength he had, he could barely reach Sakuragi's armpit.
Is this guy even human?!
BOOM!
A one-handed slam.
Simple.
Brutal.
Completely unreasonable.
"DID YOU SEE THAT, GORILLA?!"
"THIS IS THE POWER OF A GENIUS!"
"YOU CAN REST IN PEACE NOW!"
After landing, he smugly rubbed his bald head and flashed a peace sign toward Akagi's photograph on the sidelines.
"Damn it..."
The Takezato coach collapsed into his chair, clutching his head as his mentality shattered.
"When did Shohoku become this strong?"
"This is supposed to be their backup lineup?"
"That bald guy... wasn't he just a rebounding amateur before?"
"How is his finishing around the basket this ridiculous now?"
"Could it be..."
"Beating Kainan really wasn't luck?"
"Wasn't everyone saying Maki Shinichi lost because his old knee injury flared up and his legs gave out during the game?"
On the court, Mitsui Hisashi caught the ball beyond the arc.
Even facing a double-team, he moved with the leisurely ease of a man strolling through his own backyard.
"Your defense is too loose."
His eyes remained calm.
One simple jab step created space.
Then he rose for a pull-up.
The shooting form was picture-perfect.
His wrist snapped forward smoothly.
The basketball traced a beautiful arc through the air like a missile guided by precision calculations.
Swish!
Nothing but net.
Three-pointers rained down one after another.
Every shot felt like another nail hammered into Takezato's coffin.
A deep sense of helplessness spread through the team.
This was no longer a question of whether they could win.
It was a question of whether they would be nailed to the pillar of shame and mocked forever.
"We're really going to get our heads shaved..."
One Takezato player stared blankly at the scoreboard.
His spirit had already collapsed.
Aida Yayoi closed her notebook and let out a sigh.
"The outcome has already been decided."
"Takezato is going to lose."
"And they're going to lose badly."
"Kanagawa belongs to Shohoku now."
"The age of the Shohoku Dynasty has begun."
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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