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

This is an extremely arrogant celebration ahead of time.

The entire audience was completely stunned!

"Whoosh—!"

A crisp sound of swishing nets rang out.

The net went in hollow; it wasn't even forged from iron!

"boom--!!!"

Shohoku's bench went absolutely wild!

"Mitsui is awesome!!!"

The German man in the stands burst into tears, and several grown men huddled together and roared:

"That was so cool! That was a perfect display of coolness!!"

"This is our Flame Man!"

Mitsui maintained his pointing-to-the-sky posture, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

My heart was pounding, and my fingertips were burning hot.

"This feeling..."

Mitsui closed his eyes, savoring this moment of madness.

"That feels so good!"

The scoreboard flips over.

Xiangbei 5:2 Mountain King.

Lin Bei, sitting on the sidelines, sat up straight and smiled as he watched the game.

Kazunari Fukatsu still had that expressionless face, but finally, there was a flicker of emotion in his dead fish eyes.

Kawada stared at the basketball on the ground, his face so dark it could drip water.

"These guys..."

Sawakita Eiji wiped the sweat from his chin.

Those nonchalant eyes finally narrowed, revealing a ruthless intent that seemed ready to devour someone.

Just a moment ago, Mitsui Hisashi was pointing to the sky, enjoying the cheers of the entire audience.

The next second, Kawada, with a blank expression, quickly served the ball from the baseline.

Kazunari Fukatsu received the ball without hesitation.

The basketball seemed to have an autopilot, turning into a blur and traversing the entire half of the court.

"So fast!"

Before the Xiangbei team could recover from their jubilation, Sannoh's counterattack was already at their gates.

Sannoh's ace, Eiji Sawakita, cut into Shohoku's empty heartland like a black lightning bolt.

Rukawa Kaede gritted his teeth and chased after him relentlessly.

But Zebei's starting timing was too perfect, firmly blocking the blind spot by half a body length.

An effortless three-step layup.

Zebei stretched his body in mid-air, his fingertips lightly flicking.

The basketball bounced off the backboard and swished cleanly into the net.

After scoring, Zebei didn't even look at the basket and turned around immediately.

He gave a light high five to Kazunari Fukatsu, who was following behind.

"Smack."

There was no roaring celebration, only a suffocating calm.

This wave of celebration is happening in the atmosphere.

Xiangbei 5:4 Mountain King.

In the stands, the die-hard Sannoh fans, who had just been stunned by Mitsui's three-pointer, were instantly revived.

The cheers surged like a tsunami, pressing down on the shoulders of the Shohoku players.

The confidence of being the national hegemon is fully revealed.

"What a terrifying fast attack..."

Mitsui Hisashi watched the Sannoh Twins retreat rapidly, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The initial enthusiasm was largely extinguished.

"They won't even let a single second of weakness slip by?"

"Don't mind it!"

Kogure Kiminobu, sitting in the audience, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Their counterattack was too swift!"

Stop watching the game!

"Get back on defense! Stabilize the rhythm!"

Hearing the shout, Mitsui took a deep breath.

He looked down at his hands and burst out laughing.

He twisted his wrist, and his knuckles cracked.

"no problem……"

Mitsui muttered to himself, his eyes sharp as knives, as if an unnamed fire was burning in his pupils.

"I'm in an unbelievably good state today..."

"Sorry, Sannoh, I'm taking care of the basketball hoops today!"

Possession of the ball returned to Shohoku.

Ryota Miyagi controls the ball in the attacking third.

Fukatsu Kazunari's stroke was like a deadly causative agent, sealing off the angle from which the ball would come out.

Beyond the three-point line, Mitsui Hisashi began making off-ball runs.

Defense expert Satoshi Ichinokura held on tight.

The sneakers screeched and screech as they rubbed against the floor.

"Don't even think about getting rid of me!" Ichinokura Satoshi breathed heavily.

Mitsui made a sudden stop and reversed direction.

With Akagi Takenori's solid screen, he forcefully rose up from beyond the three-point line!

Ichinokura Satoshi bypassed Akagi and pounced on him like a mad dog, desperately reaching out to cover his eyes.

From mid-air, Mitsui's view was crystal clear.

The surrounding noise and shouts were all muted.

The image of Lin Bei's languid voice from the Shizuoka training camp flashed through his mind.

"Mitsui, your shooting form is impeccable, but you're still a little short of being a sharpshooter."

"The body's absolute balance in the air after takeoff."

"The exquisite tactile sensation between the fingertips and the ball's surface when flicking it."

"And the pressure on the wrist must follow the trajectory of the wind."

When these three conditions are met...

Lin Bei was sitting on the sidelines chewing gum, smiling like a devil.

"The moment the ball leaves your hand, you'll have an intuition that it will go in."

Mitsui hovered in the air at the highest point, his body taut like a perfectly arched bow.

With a flick of the finger, the orange basketball soared through the air.

"Yes...that's the feeling!"

That parabola was so high it was terrifying.

Ichinokura Satoshi landed, looking back in despair.

"Whoosh—!"

No doubt about it, it went into the net through the hole!

The white netting billowed like waves, and the basketball slammed heavily onto the floor.

Score 8:4!

"Awooooo—!!"

In the audience, Tokuo was waving the "Flame Man" flag wildly, his nose running.

"So handsome! He's the other woman!"

"You've gone berserk! You're my god for life!"

But this time, Mitsui didn't strike a pose to enjoy the worship after scoring.

His eyes turned cold as he landed, and he immediately turned and sprinted towards the halfway point of the field.

"Hey! Stop standing around! Get back on defense!"

Sakuragi and Rukawa roared at Mitsui, who was stunned.

Pouring it into a cup is certainly enjoyable.

But winning is the only way to win.

Shohoku bench.

Lin Bei leaned back lazily in his chair, his legs crossed.

Instead of joining in the wild celebrations, he squinted and fixed his gaze on the three-point line.

"It's at least half a step further than that last shot..."

Lin Bei pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, secretly making plans.

Mitsui's extended range means he has reached his peak performance and is fully in form.

However, this kind of long-range pull-up jumper that ignores defense consumes energy exponentially.

Once your mana is depleted, the backlash will be absolutely fatal.

Lin Bei turned his head, his gaze passing over the technical table and meeting the eyes of Sannoh coach Goro Domoto.

The champion coach, sporting a small mustache, was stroking his chin with a slight frown.

He didn't notice the rising star, Mitsui.

Instead, they kept their eyes fixed on Coach Anzai, who remained as steady as a mountain.

"It seems this little fluctuation isn't enough to break through the champion coach's mental defenses," Lin Bei chuckled.

Domoto Goro was calculating frantically in his mind.

"They weren't intimidated by our momentum at the start; instead, they scored repeatedly using their tactics..."

Domoto took a deep breath, his eyes sharp.

"It seems that not only Akagi and Rukawa are troublesome, but now the focus of the attack is entirely on this number 14, Mitsui..."

"Truly worthy of being called 'White-Haired Demon' Anzai."

"Although he has now become the 'White-Haired Buddha,' his ruthless troop deployment is still deadly in every move."

Domoto gritted his teeth inwardly, determined not to let his guard down.

He subtly gave tactical hand signals.

Possession of the ball changes hands on the field.

"Defense! Defense! Hold this ball!"

At the Xiangbei banquet, Ayako gripped her paper fan tightly, her knuckles turning white, and shouted at the top of her lungs.

The Mountain King has finally revealed its most terrifying positional warfare fangs.

Eiji Sawakita has the ball on the outside.

The audience's adrenaline surged, and the cheers almost lifted the dome off the stage.

"Sawakita! Sawakita! Sawakita!"

The one defending him is Rukawa Kaede!

Rukawa Kaede lowered his center of gravity, his icy eyes fixed on Sawakita's shoulder.

Sweat dripped down his chiseled chin.

Ace vs. Ace!

Sparks visible to the naked eye flew through the air.

However, Zebei did not follow the usual pattern and force a one-on-one attack.

His eyes darted around, and he subtly flicked his wrist.

The basketball, like a bullet, was precisely fed into Fukatsu Kazunari's hands!

"What?!" Miyagi Ryota's heart sank.

Fukatsu receives the ball, his broad back slamming into Miyagi!

The overwhelming difference in height and weight between 180 cm and 168 cm is magnified infinitely at this moment.

"Bang!"

Fukatsu dribbled the ball and then suddenly slammed backward.

Miyagi groaned, feeling as if he had been hit in the chest by a small truck, and his feet moved backward uncontrollably.

A high lob to the basket, a mismatch one-on-one opportunity!