In the stands, the Shohoku players had taken the best seats in the arena.
Even though they had effectively already secured the championship, not a single one of them chose to leave.
Crunch. Crunch.
Hanamichi Sakuragi sat in the front row with a giant bag of potato chips in his arms, eating with great enthusiasm.
His shiny bald head reflected the arena lights so brightly that it was almost blinding.
"Hey, Red-Haired Monkey—oh wait, Bald Monkey. You're chewing way too loud."
Kaede Rukawa frowned and delivered his usual cold complaint.
"What did you say, you damn fox?!"
Sakuragi spun around furiously, spraying chip crumbs all over Rukawa's face.
"This genius is replenishing his energy!"
"Do you know how exhausting grabbing rebounds is?!"
"And why are we even watching these two losers fight?"
"Why not just give this genius his trophy already?"
Ryota Miyagi immediately pushed Sakuragi's head back toward the court.
"Would you shut up?"
"Watch carefully. This match decides who gets to go to Nationals with us."
Miyagi narrowed his eyes as he focused on the two powerhouse teams below.
Makino Juro lounged lazily in his seat, casually spinning a bottle of mineral water in his hand.
His gaze cut through the noisy crowd and landed on Akira Sendoh.
"Interesting."
A playful smile curled at the corner of Makino Juro's mouth.
He remembered how it had gone in the original story.
This was the game where Akira Sendoh truly revealed his genius as a point-forward playmaker.
It was also one of the toughest challenges Maki Shinichi would ever face.
"Who do you think will win, Juro?"
Hisashi Mitsui leaned over, an iced coffee can in hand.
"Fifty-fifty."
Makino Juro shrugged.
"Kainan has the advantage in experience, tradition, and Maki's overwhelming presence."
"But Ryonan today..."
"They might surprise everyone."
"A surprise?"
Mitsui raised an eyebrow.
Inside the arena, the deafening roar of the crowd threatened to lift the roof clean off the building.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the hardwood like war drums.
On Ryonan's side of the court, a massive shadow descended.
Jun Uozumi.
A 202-centimeter giant.
Holding the basketball with one hand, he radiated the savage aura of a beast capable of crushing the floor beneath his feet.
He wasn't playing basketball.
He looked more like a prehistoric Tyrannosaurus that had wandered into modern civilization.
"RAAAAH!!"
With a thunderous roar, Uozumi exploded upward.
No fancy layup.
No unnecessary technique.
Just pure violence born from size and strength.
His enormous frame blocked out the arena lights, plunging the paint into darkness.
BOOM!!!
A two-handed monster dunk.
The rim groaned under the impact.
The entire basket support shook violently as though it might collapse at any moment.
"Holy crap..."
The crowd instantly erupted.
"Isn't that body size illegal?! He's practically a walking mountain!"
"Are we sure that's a high school student and not Godzilla?"
At the press table, Yayoi Aida's assistant, Nakamura, stared wide-eyed.
"T-That's brutal..."
He swallowed nervously.
Their seats were right beside Ryonan's bench, making Uozumi's pressure feel even more overwhelming.
"Miss Aida, he's way scarier up close!"
"Is this Ryonan's king gorilla?"
Yayoi Aida remained calm.
She tugged at Nakamura's sleeve in annoyance.
"Sit down."
"Stop acting like you've never seen basketball before."
Her sharp eyes swept across the court.
"Even for Kainan, dealing with that level of interior dominance won't be easy."
The focus shifted to Kainan's side.
The atmosphere changed completely.
If Ryonan embodied raw instinct and brute force, then Kainan was a perfectly calibrated industrial machine.
The kings in purple jerseys were methodically running layup drills.
No shouting.
No chest-beating.
No unnecessary theatrics.
Maki Shinichi dribbled.
Jumped.
Banked the ball in.
Every movement was so textbook-perfect that he looked like a basketball manual come to life.
His mature face remained completely calm, carrying the confidence of someone who knew exactly how strong he was.
Beyond the arc, Soichiro Jin mechanically repeated his shooting routine.
Jump.
Release.
Swish.
Nothing but net.
Even the net barely rippled.
That extreme calmness felt more oppressive than any roar.
It was the arrogance and confidence of a true king.
"They haven't even said anything..."
Nakamura gripped his camera, his palms soaked with sweat.
"But that feeling of, 'I haven't even tried yet and you've already lost' is terrifying."
"No."
Yayoi Aida twirled her pen and pointed toward the opposite side of the stands.
"The pressure of the old king is certainly frightening..."
"But over there sits a group of kings who have already seized the throne."
The Shohoku players occupied the front row of the spectator section.
Rukawa sat there with lifeless eyes, surrounded by an aura that practically screamed:
Don't talk to me.
Sakuragi's gleaming red bald head reflected the arena lights as he noisily stuffed chips into his mouth.
Crunch. Crunch.
And seated right in the center was Makino Juro.
Relaxed.
Leisurely.
A faint smile hanging on his lips.
The way he watched the court made it seem less like he was observing a basketball game and more like he was watching a circus performance.
Gulp.
Nakamura swallowed again.
"Why do they look like a bunch of villains...?"
At that moment....
BEEEEEP!!
The referee's whistle rang out.
Holding up three fingers, he shouted:
"Three minutes left in warm-ups!"
The announcement was like a starting pistol.
The tension in the arena exploded instantly.
"Alright!"
Maki slammed his palms together.
His deep voice echoed throughout the arena.
"One last possession!"
"Yes, sir!"
The Kainan players responded in perfect unison.
"We're doing one too!"
"OOOH!!"
Just as the atmosphere reached its peak and it felt like dramatic background music should start playing.
A certain attention-seeking troublemaker suddenly emerged from Kainan's lineup.
Nobunaga Kiyota.
Self-proclaimed super rookie.
"Heh-heh. Watch closely!"
The corner of Kiyota's eye drifted toward Rukawa and Sakuragi in the stands.
His inner monologue instantly went into overdrive.
This is it!
I'm stealing all the spotlight!
I'll show everyone who the true number one rookie in Kanagawa is!
He slammed the ball against the floor.
BANG!
Using the rebound, Kiyota launched himself skyward like a spring-loaded grasshopper.
His athleticism was genuinely impressive.
"Wow! He jumped so high!"
The crowd gasped.
Midair, Kiyota stretched his body to the limit.
His right arm swung high above his head.
His eyes burned with excitement.
"Now's my chance to look absolutely amazi—!"
However...
Maybe he got carried away.
Maybe he bounced the ball too hard.
Either way, the ball's trajectory was off by just a tiny little bit.
Kiyota's hand came crashing down with all the force of a thunderbolt.
WHOOSH—
He hit absolutely nothing.
Not even the edge of the basketball.
The spectacular dunk he had imagined instantly transformed into a painfully awkward air dunk.
The entire arena fell silent.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
In Shohoku's section, the potato chip in Sakuragi's mouth dropped straight into his lap.
Rukawa expressionlessly turned his head away.
"Idiot."
Makino Juro couldn't hold it in anymore.
He burst out laughing.
"Beautiful!"
"That's what I call a performance without props."
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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