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

Ryota Miyagi was pinching his thigh frantically.

His face turned a deep liver color.

God's fucking drained!

That's clearly because you're brainless!

You actually believe that?!

"And look."

Lin Bei decided to take the final, drastic step, pointing his finger to the ceiling as if it held the truth of basketball.

"Michael Jordan, bald."

"Charles Barkley, bald."

"Shaquille O'Neal, who's been dominating the paint in the NBA lately, is also bald."

"True strongmen are bald."

"Because they've activated 'power-saving mode,' dedicating all their energy and processing power to the brain!"

"Hanamichi, would you rather be an ordinary person with a pompadour, or a bald basketball god?"

This moment.

A fierce fire ignited in Sakuragi Hanamichi's eyes.

That is the flame of enlightenment, the resolute determination to have one's intelligence shrunk to zero.

"I understand..."

Sakuragi clenched his fist, turned around and rushed out, creating a gust of wind.

"Wait! Training isn't over yet!" Miyagi shouted.

"I'm not practicing anymore!"

"This genius is going to evolve! To unload the excess hair!"

Sakuragi's voice drifted from afar, filled with a sense of tragic grandeur:

"Just you wait!"

"Tomorrow, I will be the fully-fledged genius Sakuragi Hanamichi!!"

Watching Sakuragi's disappearing figure, Lin Bei finally couldn't hold back anymore, and a wicked smile curled up at the corner of his mouth.

"Hahaha..."

Mitsui Hisashi finally broke down, laughing so hard he pounded the floor: "Lin Bei... you bastard... you're too mean! What kind of power-saving mode is this?!"

"How can you call this mean?" Lin Bei shrugged.

"This is called necessary image management and psychological preparation for the team's future."

"And... the feel of a bald head must be really relaxing, right?"

……

the next day.

On the early morning tram.

The carriages, which were usually packed like sardine cans, now had a strange vacuum.

To be precise, one of the carriages was unusually empty.

The passengers were all crammed into the connection between the two carriages.

Through the glass door, he stared intently at the sole passenger in the empty carriage with the same terrified look one would give a terrorist.

There was a man standing there.

Wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, hands in pockets.

What's most eye-catching is his large, red bald head, which is very conspicuous in the morning light.

Combined with Sakuragi Hanamichi's already fierce-looking eyes and his slightly twitching lips as if he hadn't woken up properly.

This doesn't look like a high school student.

This guy looks like a yakuza boss who just escaped from Abashiri Prison and has more than a dozen lives on his hands!

"That...is he a professional assassin?"

"Absolutely! Look at that reflection; it's the embodiment of murderous intent!"

"Mom, I'm scared... I want to go home..."

"Shh! Don't look at him! He'll be silenced!"

The whispers around me buzzed like mosquitoes.

Meanwhile, Sakuragi Hanamichi, at the center of the storm, was facing the car window, idly touching his prickly head.

"Hmph hmph hmph..."

"Sure enough, after getting a haircut, I felt incredibly clear-headed."

"Is this the vision of the strong?"

"As expected, even air resistance has decreased."

"It seems these mortals are all intimidated by the domineering aura emanating from this genius..."

Sakuragi grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, thinking he looked very sunny.

"Wow, he smiled! He's going to make a move!!"

A scream suddenly came from the next carriage.

The crowd receded three meters, like the tide going out.

……

Shohoku High School.

When the figure with the red high-wattage light bulb on his head walked into the school gate, the originally noisy corridor instantly went silent.

Everyone stopped in their tracks.

His gaze was fixed on Sakuragi Hanamichi's head as if drawn by a powerful magnet.

The head-turning rate is 200%, it's off the charts.

"That's... Sakuragi?"

"My God, has he finally lost his mind?"

"I heard he's been heartbroken too many times. Did the blows he suffered make him disillusioned with life?"

Sakuragi Hanamichi walked with his head held high and chest out, exuding the confidence of a runway supermodel.

He accepted all those gazes without question.

In his view, these were all forms of worship, the mortals' aspirations for miracles.

"Hey, Hanamichi!"

Yohei Mito's voice came from behind.

When Sakuragi turned around, he saw the four members of the Sakuragi Army standing there in neat rows.

The expressions on everyone's faces were priceless, as if they had witnessed aliens landing.

Takamiya Nozomi dropped the potato chips in her hand to the ground, Oonan Yuji's mouth was agape wide enough to fit a light bulb, and Noma Chuichiro clutched his stomach, his face turning bright red.

Only Yohei Mito managed to maintain his composure, but his violently shaking shoulders betrayed him.

"Pfft... Hahahaha!!"

Finally, bursts of laughter echoed down the corridor, nearly lifting the roof off.

"Hanamichi! You...your head! Hahahaha!"

Takamiya Nozomi laughed so hard she rolled on the ground, tears streaming down her face: "Are you going to become a nun? What's your Dharma name? Hahahaha!"

"So verbose!"

"This is a genius design! It's to prevent nutrient loss from the brain! It's science!"

"What Lin Bei said... Wait, what are you guys laughing at!"

Sakuragi's forehead veins bulged as he punched Takamiya Nozomi's fat, making a dull "duang" sound.

"This touch... Absolutely amazing."

"But Hanamichi, your bald head is probably going to dominate the school's trending topics soon."

Yohei wiped away the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.

He walked over and patted Sakuragi's prickly head; it felt surprisingly good.

"Hmph, there's nothing I can do about it."

"This is the so-called fate of celebrities, whose every move attracts attention."

Sakuragi flicked his non-existent bangs, struck what he thought was a cool pose, and pointed his nose in the air.

"Since they are celebrities, we can't waste this wave of attention."

Takamiya and his companions turned around and began calling out to the students gathered in the corridor, like skilled salesmen:

Come on over! Don't miss out!

"Shohoku Basketball Club's Secret Weapon! The Legendary Red-Headed Monk! A Chance to Get Up Close and Personal with a Strong Player!"

"Touch it for 100 yen! Take a photo with it for 50 yen! Just look at it without touching it for 20 yen!"

"Line up! Those who want to share in the genius's good fortune, hurry up! No deception, young or old!"

The rest of the Sakuragi Army instantly understood and immediately began maintaining order and collecting fees.

"Hey you, don't just look, touch it and it feels really nice."

"Only 100 yen! This has been blessed!"

Just when business was booming and making a fortune every day.

The crowd suddenly parted like Moses parting the sea.

"Sakuragi-kun?"

A clear, melodious voice, tinged with a hint of surprise, rang out.

Sakuragi froze, as if he had been frozen in place.

The red bald head instantly turned bright red.

It looked as if it was about to steam and turn into a boiled braised egg.

He mechanically turned his head, his joints making a clicking sound.

Haruko Akagi was standing outside the crowd, covering her mouth, her big eyes filled with shock.

Beside her was her best friend Fujii, who looked terrified, as if she had seen a ghost.

"Haruko...Miss Haruko!"

Sakuragi was at a loss and instinctively wanted to cover his head.

But it didn't feel imposing enough, so it awkwardly waved its hand in mid-air, like a drowning duck.

"Um... this is for training!"

"Yes! It's for spiritual practice! This is called cutting hair to express one's resolve!"

Haruko blinked and lowered her hand.

A bright smile suddenly bloomed on her face, as if the background had a built-in soft-focus filter:

"So cute!"

"Huh???"