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

Akagi stood there blankly.

Sweat trickled down his cheeks.

Is this the pinnacle of the world?

Is this what the NBA is like?

The power he was so proud of was like that of an infant in front of this prehistoric behemoth.

Don't be discouraged, buddy.

O'Neal walked over.

A large, fan-like hand patted Akagi's head, as if comforting a frustrated kitten:

"Your physical fitness is quite good for a high school student."

"But brute force alone isn't enough to dominate under the basket."

"Listen carefully, that's all I can teach you about making a pizza."

O'Neal held up three fingers as thick as carrots.

"First, the buttocks."

"A center's butt is more important than his hands."

"When you're blocking, use your big butt to sense your opponent's center of gravity. Once their center of gravity shifts, turn around immediately. That's your radar."

"Second, the elbow."

"I'm not asking you to hit someone, I'm asking you to restrain them."

"When protecting the ball, hold your elbow like a knife. That's your territory. Anyone who dares to reach out will know how to feel pain."

"This is called 'legal harm,' understand?"

"Third, and most importantly."

O'Neal pointed to his head, then to the basketball hoop.

He exudes an aura of dominance.

"Dominance".

"Standing under the basket, you are the emperor."

"Anyone who dares to come in is an assassin, and they all must die."

"Hesitation leads to defeat. When you get the ball, either smash it or pass it to an open player. Don't dribble like a girl trying to find your rhythm."

After he finished speaking, O'Neal's ears twitched, as if he had heard the nutritionist's roar.

"Oh damn, that guy's coming after me! I'd better get out of here!"

This behemoth deftly changed direction and vanished instantly at the tunnel entrance, leaving only one sentence echoing in the empty arena:

"Practice hard, Patrick II!"

"Next time we meet, don't let me knock you over!"

The stadium returned to silence.

Akagi stood alone under the basket, looking at the rim that was still trembling slightly.

The suffocating feeling of oppression still lingered on my skin.

The gap is too big.

It's so big it's despair-inducing.

but……

Akagi clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm.

A sinister and excited smile slowly crept onto the corners of his mouth.

"Is this the view from the summit...?"

"Hainan...Ryonan...Sannoh..."

"If I've faced monsters like this, what are you?"

Akagi picked up the basketball that had rolled to the side, his eyes filled with an unprecedented determination.

The scope has been broadened.

In order to dominate the whole country.

In order not to let down those problem children from Shohoku.

"One hundred more sets of back-to-the-back footwork!"

"Train until you drop dead, or you'll die!"

Akagi's roar echoed through the Orlando arena.

……

Meanwhile, in Japan.

Kanagawa Prefectural Gymnasium.

The county-level competition's round-robin stage is in full swing.

The atmosphere in the rest area of ​​Shohoku High School was somewhat eerie, even carrying a hint of "yakuza" style.

"Hey...who's that guy?"

"How scary... that bald guy..."

"When did Shohoku recruit a gangster boss?"

The surrounding spectators and the players from their rival, Wuli High School, all stared in horror at a figure in Shohoku's warm-up area.

The man wearing the number 10 jersey and sporting a bright red bald head.

Sakuragi Hanamichi was stretching with a fierce expression on his face.

Without the embellishment of hair, his already angular features appeared extremely aggressive, and the murderous aura between his brows seemed to overflow.

In addition, he was currently holding back his energy on the "Zone" issue, his eyes so sharp they seemed to pierce through the backboard.

"Sakuragi's look... it's overflowing with intimidation, he's practically going on a killing spree."

Mitsui Hisashi tied his shoelaces.

Looking at the few Buri players on the opposing team who were trembling after just one glare from Sakuragi, he couldn't help but complain.

"Hmph, braised eggs."

Rukawa Kaede coldly uttered a sentence.

But his gaze lingered on Sakuragi's bald head for a second.

I have to admit, this braised egg does look better than before; at least it looks like a serious, tough guy playing ball.

"Alright, alright, everyone come here!"

Ayako patted her paper fan and gathered everyone together.

Although Akagi was not present.

But Shohoku's momentum remained undiminished; on the contrary, they became even more ferocious after their previous victory over Hainan.

"Today's opponent is Buri."

"Although external reviews are not high, we must act swiftly and decisively, without giving them a chance!"

"yes!!"

The crowd responded in unison, their voices deafening.

And at the very end of the bench.

Lin Bei, wrapped in his coat, yawned widely.

There were still physiological tears in the corners of her eyes, and she exuded a kind of languidness that made her feel like she didn't know who she was or where she was.

He glanced at the coach of Buri High School across the street.

The poor middle-aged man was looking at Shohoku's "all-star delinquent lineup" with a look of despair.

Lin Bei scratched his head and glanced at Sakuragi, who was frantically slapping his bald head and stacking buffs on himself.

"Looks like I won't have to do much today."

"Close the door, let Sakuragi out."

……

Kanagawa Prefectural Gymnasium.

The deafening noise almost lifted the roof off.

But in the Shohoku rest area, a strange "ritual" is taking place.

Sakuragi Hanamichi sported a bright red bald head that was so shiny it could be used as a reflector.

His expression was so solemn, as if he were worshipping some deity.

He furtively avoided Coach Anzai's gaze.

He pulled out an exquisite photo frame from the bottom of his sports bag and carefully placed it in the "center position" right in the middle of the bench.

In the photo frame, Takenori Akagi's dark face exudes an imposing aura even without anger.

His eyes were fixed straight ahead, as if he were trying to kill every living thing that passed by with his gaze.

Sakuragi straightened his collar, clasped his hands together, and bowed deeply to the photo at a ninety-degree angle, muttering to himself:

"Gorilla, you can rest easy over there..."

"Although you usually hit hard and always use your iron fist to hit my genius head."

"But I, Sakuragi Hanamichi, am a person who repays evil with good. I'll take on your dream."

"You can just relax and enjoy eating bananas happily in the Western world (America)."

"I, the genius, have taken over Shohoku's inside game."

Amen.

"Snapped!"

"Thump!"

Two muffled thuds—the sound of flesh making intimate contact with the soles of shoes.

Ryota Miyagi and Hisashi Mitsui were so in sync it was as if they had rehearsed a hundred times.

One person kicked Sakuragi, sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt.

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! A murderous genius!"

"I'm doing my pre-match prayers!"

"This is the highest respect for the former captain!"

"Don't you guys know any manners?!"

Sakuragi, clutching his backside, launched himself forward, his eyes wide with rage.

"Respect my foot!"

"The boss just went to America to treat his foot injury!"

"I'll be back in a few days!"

"What are you trying to achieve by turning this into a funeral?!"

Gongcheng's temples throbbed with veins as he pointed at the photograph and roared, spittle flying everywhere.

"And why worship?"

"Are you trying to curse him to death so you can usurp the captaincy?"

"That's so unlucky! I'd better put it away quickly!"

Mitsui Hisashi was so angry that his lips twitched, and he grabbed the photo and hid it behind his back.

"Tch, foolish mortals."

Sakuragi pouted.

A mysterious, enigmatic expression, as if saying, "Everyone else is drunk but I am sober."

"Even if the gorilla's physical body is gone, his spirit must remain on the sidelines."

"This is a spiritual totem, don't you understand?"