Kuroko's Basketball template: the king of slacking off, Shohoku's strongest sixth man.

In the locker room.

The stench of sweat assaulted my senses.

That was the scent of male hormones exploding.

Lingnan Rest Area.

Taoka Shigeichi crossed his arms and glanced around.

Finally, he locked his gaze on the figure in the corner with a towel on its head.

Fukuda is an auspicious sign.

In the final minutes of the first half, this guy was like a rusty, dull saw, tearing Shohoku's defense to shreds.

Taoka almost burst out laughing.

That feeling is like a gambler going all in on their last hand.

Then we opened the cards and took a look!

A complete sweep!

"Well done, Afu."

A hint of fanaticism flashed in Taoka's eyes.

Here, basketball isn't like in the US, where you can just find a hoop anywhere on the street and play one-on-one.

Here, for a high school student...

Without a club or organization, it's like being sentenced to death.

There was no field, no teammates, and they couldn't even touch a ball.

"That's exactly why..."

Taoka looked at Fukuda's violently heaving shoulders and understood perfectly well what was going on.

For Fukuda, those days of suspension were like an exile.

That feeling of wanting to play ball but not being able to touch it.

It's like someone who has been crawling in the desert for three days and three nights suddenly seeing an ice-cold Coke.

That hunger, the moment the ban was lifted, transformed directly into the most primal instinct to eat.

Not picky about food, not concerned with posture, not seeking elegance.

He'd sell his soul if he could just get that damn ball into the basket, if he could just hear that "swish" sound.

This is a lucky omen for Futian.

Clingy, suffocating, like a piece of chewing gum that you can't shake off.

It's more like a hungry wolf that's caught the smell of blood.

"This ferocity is something that immortals don't possess."

Taoka glanced at Sendoh Akira, who was resting with his eyes closed.

Sendoh is a genius, the basketball court is his canvas, and playing basketball is his enjoyment.

Just like Lin Bei from Xiangbei.

They were so composed.

Instead, it lacks that fierce determination of someone who crawls out of a mud pit, covered in mud, yet still wants to bite you.

"What Ryonan lacks right now is this kind of ruthlessness."

Taoka clenched his fists so tightly they cracked.

in the corner.

Fukuda Kichijo's world was reduced to a dim white.

That's the color of the towel.

"Huff... huff..."

My lungs felt like they had swallowed burning coals.

Sweat dripped from his chin onto the floor, but he felt a tingling sensation on his scalp from the intense pleasure.

My thoughts are wandering.

It was as if he had returned to those days when he would lie on the outside of the barbed wire fence, watching people play ball like a beggar.

The squeaking sound of sneakers rubbing against the floor.

The "thump" sound of a basketball hitting the rim.

Every sound was like a slow, agonizing torture to his nerves.

You can only look, not touch.

Like an outsider.

but now……

Swish!

Fukuda abruptly ripped off the towel; the glaring light stung his eyes.

There was no sound of wind, only the sound of a tsunami.

"Fukuda! Fukuda! Fukuda!!"

The roars of the Ryonan cheerleaders are fucking amazing.

It's more exciting than any world-famous song.

Fukuda's deadpan face twitched nervously, revealing a twisted yet enjoyable grin.

"A little more..."

The fingernails dug deep into the towel fibers.

"More!"

Whether it's using the senior fish as a human shield or taking advantage of loopholes to steal chickens.

All I need to do is score...

I just want this cheering to keep going...

……

High up in the audience seating area.

The atmosphere in the territory affiliated with Hainan University is a bit delicate.

Gao Touli tapped his palm with the folding fan in his hand, squinting like an old fox.

"That's interesting."

He turned his head to look at Maki Shinichi.

"Taoka-senpai really went all out this time."

"Let a trump card like Sendoh be the porter, and let a behemoth like Uozumi be the pure meat shield."

"The blood of the entire team is used to nourish Fukuda."

Mu Shen nodded, his expression calm:

"That's ruthless."

"Most coaches don't have this kind of courage, after all, it's like cutting off their own arms."

"But the effect was really good; Shohoku was completely stunned."

"Snapped!"

Gao Touli opened his folding fan, obscuring half his face, revealing only a pair of shrewd eyes:

"Use Fukuda, an 'offensive-specialized' mad dog, to bite Sakuragi Hanamichi, a 'physical-specialized' newbie."

"On the defensive end, Sakuragi is a sieve; on the offensive end, Fukuda runs all over the court, and Sakuragi can't even catch the exhaust fumes."

"Like Tian Ji's horse racing strategy, Senior Taoka..."

……

Shohoku locker room.

The atmosphere was as oppressive as a powder keg, ready to explode at any moment.

"Damn it! That stinky Ah Fu!"

With a loud "bang," Sakuragi Hanamichi kicked the locker, denting the metal door.

"How dare you look down on this genius!"

"Second half! I'm going to kill him!"

"I'm going to keep him like a mummy!"

Sakuragi, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, jumped around in the locker room, shouting so loudly it could lift the roof off.

Coach Anzai sat in the middle of the bench, holding a teacup in his hand, his glasses reflecting the light, as steady as a mountain.

"Sakuragi-kun."

The sound isn't loud, but it has its own reverb.

Sakuragi slammed on the brakes and brought his big face close to the car:

"Dad! Do you have some kind of secret weapon?"

"For example, '108 ways to beat up Fukuda'?"

Coach Anzai chuckled, his chin jiggling slightly.

"You'll be sitting down for the second half."

Quiet.

The locker room seemed to be muted.

Sakuragi Hanamichi's expression froze on his face, as if he had swallowed a fly.

Three seconds later.

"What?!?!"

Sakuragi's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He clutched his head with both hands, letting out a bloodcurdling scream like a pig being slaughtered.

"Sit down?! Why should I sit down?!"

"Dad! Are you getting senile?"

"Now is the time for this genius to save the world!"

"That stinky Ah Fu is still provoking me! How can I just sit here?!"

"I won't do it! I want to play!"

"I'm going to beat that expressionless face into a pig's head!"

Looking at Sakuragi rolling around on the ground, Coach Anzai still had that kind of benevolent Buddha look on his face, but he turned his head to look at the corner.

There, Lin Bei was leaning against the cabinet, saying nothing.

"Lin Bei, you're up for the second half."

Lin Bei didn't even lift his eyelids, lazily raised one hand, and yawned: "Roger, Coach."

"What?!"

Sakuragi completely lost it, pointing at Lin Bei and jumping up and down: "Dad, you're committing suicide! Without me, the rebounding king, Shohoku is doomed!"

"idiot."

A cold snort came crashing down like ice shards.

Rukawa Kaede glanced at Sakuragi while wiping his sweat.

"Don't you understand yet?"

"Ryonan's tactics were tailor-made for you."

Sakuragi was taken aback: "What do you mean? You damn fox, spit it out!"

Ryota Miyagi tied his shoelaces, stood up, patted Sakuragi on the shoulder, and said in a slightly provocative tone:

"Hanamichi, what Rukawa Kaede means is that you are the 'big leak' in Shohoku's defensive system."

"A strainer?" Sakuragi blinked his beady eyes.

"That's right."

"That Fukuda guy is specifically targeting your blind spots."

"The opposing coach's subtext is..."

"You, Sakuragi Hanamichi, are like an ATM; anyone can come and withdraw some money."

"An ATM...?!"

Sakuragi's face instantly turned a deep liver color, and veins bulged on his forehead; he was truly on the verge of a breakdown.

"They...they actually dared to treat this genius like an ATM?!"