The sweet, almost syrupy voice of the train's announcement finally pierced through the drowsy silence inside the carriage.
"Shizuoka Station has arrived."
The doors slid open.
A refreshing breeze carrying the fragrance of green tea mixed with the salty scent of the sea rushed into the train.
"Charge!!!"
With a sports bag nearly bursting from the sheer amount of snacks he'd packed, Sakuragi Hanamichi shot out of the train like a cannonball.
Standing proudly on the platform with his hands on his hips and his nose pointed toward the sky, he took a deep breath.
His face wore an expression of pure bliss.
"So this..."
"...is the smell of Shizuoka?!"
"It's..."
"It's the authentic aroma of grilled eel over rice!"
He frowned, nostrils twitching dramatically.
Smack!
The rolled-up magazine in Akagi Takenori's hand landed squarely on Sakuragi's bright red head.
"That's the smell of station bento boxes, you idiot."
Adjusting his glasses, Akagi gazed toward the rolling green hills beyond the station.
Shizuoka Prefecture.
Located in central Honshu.
The kingdom of green tea.
The sacred land of Japanese soccer.
Of course...
To this group of boys whose world revolved entirely around basketball hoops...
This place was nothing more than another stepping stone on the road to the National Tournament.
"So Jousei High is around here?"
"They're a pretty strong team."
Mitsui Hisashi lowered the brim of his cap to block the bright sunlight as he muttered to himself.
His words sounded dismissive...
But deep down, he knew exactly how formidable they were.
Jousei High.
A perennial National Top Eight contender.
Their ace, Mikoshiba, was hailed as one of the nation's elite forwards.
This wasn't some weak opponent.
It was a hard bone to crack.
"Let's go."
Coach Anzai walked forward with his leisurely, dignified pace, looking every bit like a smiling Buddha.
The team followed him out of the station, each wondering how they'd reach the school.
Take the bus?
Or walk like wandering monks?
After all...
Shohoku was a public high school.
Its budget was painfully limited.
Being allowed to ride the Shinkansen was already the absolute limit of what Akagi had managed to secure after nearly flipping the negotiating table with the school board.
However...
The moment they stepped outside the station...
Everyone froze.
It felt as if their feet had been glued to the pavement.
Parked at the curb...
Was a gigantic luxury coach.
Jet black.
Its polished body gleamed under the sunlight with an unmistakable message:
I cost a fortune.
A gold-plated emblem adorned its side.
Every window was made of one-way privacy glass.
Four towering men dressed in black suits and white gloves stood perfectly upright beside the entrance.
Their imposing presence alone caused pedestrians to instinctively walk around them.
Anyone unfamiliar with the situation would have assumed a yakuza boss was collecting protection money.
The instant they spotted the Shohoku team...
The lead bodyguard stepped forward.
He executed a flawless ninety-degree bow.
Every movement was synchronized with military precision.
"Young Master."
"The vehicle is ready."
Silence.
Utter silence.
The members of Shohoku slowly turned their heads.
Every pair of eyes locked onto the young man standing at the very back of the group...
Who happened to be yawning.
Makino Juro rubbed his sleepy eyes before casually waving a hand.
"Mm."
"Good work."
Then he looked toward the petrified Akagi and Coach Anzai.
"Let's get on."
"I don't like crowded buses."
"They smell too much like sweat."
"I've already tried to keep things low-key."
"I didn't even bring my private car."
Miyagi Ryota's jaw nearly hit the ground.
With trembling fingers, he pointed at the luxury coach that made their school bus look like a discarded tin can.
"Y-You arranged this too?!"
"My family happens to have a branch company nearby."
Makino Juro shrugged and casually walked toward the entrance.
His tone was as relaxed as if he were saying he'd picked up a coin off the sidewalk.
"They weren't using it."
"So I borrowed it."
"No point wasting resources."
Versailles.
This was peak-level humblebragging.
The coach's doors slid open.
A powerful blast of cool air greeted them.
Inside...
There weren't ordinary seats.
Every seat was a premium leather airline-style recliner.
There was even a built-in refrigerator...
And a top-of-the-line entertainment system.
"Holy crap! It's so soft!"
"This throne belongs exclusively to this genius!"
"No one else is allowed to sit here!"
Sakuragi shouted excitedly before launching himself onto the sofa in the back row.
He even bounced on it twice.
Rukawa remained expressionless as ever.
But...
His boarding speed had clearly increased by at least two levels.
He quietly claimed a window seat.
The chair automatically reclined.
He put on his eye mask.
And fell asleep instantly.
Akagi stood frozen by the entrance.
Looking at the lavish interior...
The muscles on his stern, gorilla-like face twitched violently.
The motivational speech he'd prepared about enduring hardship...
Died before it ever left his mouth.
What's the point of struggling now?
This feels more like a luxury vacation than a training camp!
...
The coach glided smoothly through the streets of Shizuoka.
Its suspension was so flawless that not even the slightest bump could be felt.
Half an hour later...
The vehicle entered Jousei High School.
Unlike the worn-down atmosphere of Shohoku's public campus...
Jousei radiated the disciplined elegance of an elite private academy.
On the athletic field...
The soccer team's battle cries echoed through the air.
The coach finally stopped outside the gymnasium.
A group of people who had clearly been waiting for them approached immediately.
Leading them was a slightly overweight middle-aged man with a rapidly retreating hairline.
Jousei High's head coach...
Suzuki.
"Coach Anzai!"
"It's been far too long."
"You still look as healthy as ever."
Coach Suzuki hurried forward and respectfully shook Anzai's hand.
His attitude resembled that of an elementary school student greeting his favorite teacher.
"Ho... ho... ho..."
"Thank you for having us, Suzuki-kun."
Coach Anzai smiled warmly, his eyes narrowing into cheerful crescents.
Behind Coach Suzuki stood a row of tall players wearing blue-and-white uniforms.
Their eyes swept across the Shohoku team like scanners.
They made no effort whatsoever to hide the disdain in their gazes.
Especially...
The player standing proudly at the center.
He possessed a broad, muscular frame.
His jersey looked ready to burst from the definition of his muscles.
His sharp eyes resembled drawn blades.
Jousei High's ace.
Mikoshiba.
Standing with his arms crossed...
He completely ignored Akagi.
Instead...
His gaze landed on Sakuragi, who was currently wrestling Rukawa over a duffel bag.
A mocking smile appeared on his lips.
"So..."
"These are the guys who defeated Kainan through sheer luck?"
"They look more like a traveling circus."
Mikoshiba didn't raise his voice.
Yet every word carried effortlessly across the courtyard.
The atmosphere instantly froze.
Sakuragi's movements came to a halt.
Slowly...
He turned around.
The veins bulging on his forehead throbbed violently.
In a single instant...
His expression shifted from goofy innocence...
To murderous fury.
"What did you just say?"
"You pompadour-haired bastard..."
"You got a death wish?"
He threw his bag onto the ground and strode forward.
Every ounce of his delinquent aura erupted at once.
"Pompadour?"
Mikoshiba's expression darkened.
As the king of Shizuoka...
No one had ever dared call him by such a nickname.
"I'm Mikoshiba."
He stepped forward as well.
"I heard you defeated Kainan."
"I expected to see monsters."
"Turns out you're just a bunch of uncivilized monkeys."
"Who are you calling monkeys?!"
Sakuragi exploded.
His fists clenched until they cracked.
It looked as though a fight was about to break out.
"That's enough, Hanamichi."
A hand casually rested on Sakuragi's shoulder.
Juro had appeared behind him without anyone noticing.
He didn't even look at Mikoshiba.
Instead...
He calmly pulled a piece of chewing gum from his pocket.
Unwrapped it.
Popped it into his mouth.
Chewed twice.
Only then did he slowly lift his eyes toward Mikoshiba.
His gaze was calm.
As if he were looking at a noisy Chihuahua barking by the roadside.
"If you're really that confident..."
Makino Juro blew a bubble.
Pop.
It burst with a crisp snap.
"Then let's settle it on the court."
"I just hope..."
"...your basketball is better than your trash talk."
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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