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

He made a very subtle gesture toward the Mingpeng players on the field.

"Activate the 'Hunter Point Guard' tactic! Reclaim your dignity from that short guy!"

"I'm going to make sure he doesn't even get past halftime!"

At that moment, Miyagi Ryota, who was retreating, suddenly felt a chill down his back.

He instinctively turned around and found that Mingpeng's two outside players were staring at him with eyes that looked like they were looking at a dead man.

A crisis arrived quietly.

Coach Mingpeng's roar was like a piercing air raid siren.

It directly tore the air out of the stadium.

"Defense! Full press!"

At the bottom line.

Takenori Akagi has just served the ball.

The basketball fell into Ryota Miyagi's hands.

Before he could even dribble and turn around, three huge black shadows pounced on him like mad dogs.

Meihou's point guard, shooting guard, and small forward completely left the rest of Shohoku open.

Spanning most of the field, they trapped Miyagi firmly in the narrow corner.

Three players relentlessly double-teamed him!

"Don't let him pass the ball! Trap him!"

Mingpeng's point guard had bloodshot eyes.

He spread his arms wide, pressing down on us like an impenetrable wall of flesh.

Immediately afterwards, two other Meipeng players, each over 1.8 meters tall, rammed into him from both flanks.

asphyxia.

Ryota Miyagi felt as if a wet sponge had been stuffed into his chest.

After running for most of the race, he didn't even have time to blink.

"You think you can stop me?" Miyagi cursed inwardly.

He gritted his teeth, forcibly lowered his center of gravity, and desperately protected the basketball in his hands.

Two heavy bodies slammed into his shoulders, producing a dull thud of flesh-on-flesh.

"Foul!"

"Is the referee blind?!"

Ayako, standing on the sidelines, was so anxious that she stood up and stomped her feet in anger.

In this extreme and desperate situation, Miyagi displayed a level of agility that was difficult for ordinary people to achieve.

He was like a wildcat cornered.

In the fraction of a second before three giant hands were about to crush his basketball, he executed an extreme crossover dribble.

He squeezed right through the gap between the legs of two defenders!

"They actually got through this?!"

The players from Mingpeng were shocked and couldn't believe it at all.

However, the immense physical exhaustion caused Miyagi's movements to become distorted.

He barely managed to break through the double team, but then stumbled.

He could only instinctively throw the ball forward.

"Catch the ball!"

This was an extremely difficult pass.

The route is too high, and the speed is too slow.

"Oh no!"

Rukawa Kaede frowned suddenly in the frontcourt, just about to jump.

A giant hand intercepted the ball halfway through its journey.

Meihou's small forward made a steal and immediately sent a quarterback long pass towards Shohoku's paint area.

Boom!

Under the basket, Morishige Hiroshi, who had been lying in wait, rose up like a heavy tank.

Facing Sakuragi Hanamichi's desperate defense, he slammed the ball into the basket with an extremely brutal two-handed dunk!

The basketball hoop shook violently.

The score was quickly narrowed.

"Overtake them!"

"Let's devour Shohoku in one go!"

"We still have a chance!"

The Mingpeng substitutes' bench went completely into a frenzy.

Shohoku's rhythm is in complete disarray.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the field.

Ryota Miyagi knelt on one knee on the floor, panting heavily.

His right hand gripped the red wristband on his left wrist tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

A deep fear and self-reproach crept up his spine like a venomous snake.

The floor in my line of sight began to distort.

The towering figures of the Mingpeng players, each as tall as an iron tower, gradually overlapped with the image of the cold, icy waves in my memory.

The pattering rain drowned out the noise of the tens of thousands of people in the stadium.

That was in Okinawa.

The sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell, and the sky was so gloomy it seemed about to fall.

"Don't ever come back in this lifetime!"

Young Liangtian, his eyes red, roared hysterically at the tall figure's back.

That was a vicious curse uttered in a fit of pique...

But it became a nightmare he could never escape for the rest of his life.

Because his older brother, Sōta Miyagi, never came back.

That merciless shipwreck swallowed up his older brother, who always smiled, patted his head, and said he wanted to become the strongest point guard.

When the cold, lifeless belongings were returned home, Ryota's world completely collapsed.

He locked himself in his room.

Looking at that oversized number 7 jersey and that bright red wristband, I cried until my throat bled.

That was a psychological trauma that lasted for years.

He lived in endless guilt and shadow.

He became withdrawn and rebellious, like a hedgehog covered in sharp thorns.

He even climbed to the edge of a tall building on countless nights, wanting to jump off and go to the other world to say sorry to his brother.

He harbored a deep-seated, instinctive fear of those tall, strong opponents.

That was a projection of a sense of powerlessness against fate, a psychological aftereffect of Sōta's departure.

It wasn't until he found that yellowed basketball magazine among his brother's belongings that he came across it.

A name is circled in red above – Japan's number one defender.

Ryota put on red wristbands and wore the number 7 jersey.

He wanted to use this method to forcibly sew his brother's soul onto his own broken heart.

But now.

"Am I not good enough...?"

"Souta..."

"These big guys..."

"That's terrifying..."

Miyagi hung his head, large beads of sweat falling onto the floor.

He felt as if his legs were filled with lead.

The oxygen in his chest cavity had been completely drained.

"Beep—!"

"Shohoku requests a timeout!"

Coach Anzai's deep voice rang out, abruptly cutting off Meihou's frenzied momentum.

The atmosphere on the Shohoku bench was extremely tense.

The whole team noticed Miyagi's unusual condition.

If the point guard, this engine, fails, Shohoku's proud offensive system will completely collapse.

Without saying a word, Miyagi walked to the bench and sat down.

She grabbed a white towel and covered her face tightly.

His shoulders were trembling slightly, uncontrollably.

Sakuragi Hanamichi walked up to him, just about to speak.

But Lin Bei stopped him with a single look.

Lin Bei calmly shook his head, indicating that he should have some space.

Just then, a pair of warm hands gently grasped Miyagi's trembling fist.

Miyagi froze.

Through the gap in the towel, he saw Ayako squatting in front of him.

Ayako didn't say anything.

She just stared intently at him with those extremely bright and powerful eyes.

She pried open Miyagi's tightly clenched fingers.

He took out a black, bold marker from his pocket and carefully wrote a few words on Miyagi's palm.

The sensation of the pen tip gliding across the skin carries a strange magic.

The palace's frantic heartbeat gradually calmed down.

After writing, Ayako cupped Miyagi's hands together and placed them on his chest.

"You are the heart of our Shohoku."

Ayako's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unwavering certainty.

"Hold your head high and show those guys who look down on you what they're made of."

Miyagi slowly removed the towel from her head.

Open your palm.

Four words were written in the palm of his hand:

First defender.