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

Fukuda is currently in the air.

The old forces have been exhausted, and the new forces have not yet emerged.

Combined with the full-speed sprint he had just made to get past someone, the enormous inertia made it impossible for him to change his flight trajectory.

He could only watch helplessly as he, like an out-of-control truck, crashed violently into the "statue".

"Bang--!!!"

A dull thud of flesh colliding.

Mitsui Hisashi collapsed to the ground.

His falling posture was very standard; he slid backward, dissipating most of the impact.

It's practically a textbook example of the art of "fake falls".

"beep--!!!"

The referee's sharp whistle rang out.

Without any hesitation, the referee clenched his left fist and punched his right palm, making a firm ruling gesture.

"Ryonan number 13, charging with the ball!"

"Offensive foul!"

"Shohoku has possession of the ball!"

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

"Holy crap! That was such a perfect call!"

"When did Mitsui Hisashi go there? I didn't notice at all!"

"That was brilliant! That was textbook-perfect drawing a foul! That was incredible!"

Lingnan Rest Area.

Taoka Shigeichi's smile froze on his face.

His expression was like he had just swallowed a fly and was having to force it down.

"How is that possible..."

"How could Mitsui possibly abandon the off-road vehicle to reinforce defense?"

"Did he see through our intentions all along?"

In the stands.

Shinichi Maki clapped his hands gently, his eyes full of admiration:

"pretty."

"It wasn't just about anticipating Ryonan's tactics, but also about having absolute confidence in your defensive positioning."

"The moment Fukuda started operating, Mitsui was already moving."

Kenji Fujima also looked at Mitsui lying on the ground with a sigh, his tone complex:

"Is this the basketball IQ of a former high school MVP...?"

"Although there was a two-year gap, I haven't lost this keen sense of smell at all."

"and……"

Fujima's gaze shifted to the figures on Shohoku's bench.

"Lin Bei didn't seem surprised at all."

……

On the field.

Mitsui Hisashi rubbed his chest and sat up from the floor.

That collision was quite severe. Fukuda may look thin, but he's got some tough bones.

But the expression on his face was relaxed, even with a hint of mockery.

He looked up at Sakuragi Hanamichi, who was standing next to him with a blank expression.

Sakuragi was still in the position where he had been beaten, his mouth slightly open, clearly still not recovered from the sudden turn of events.

"Hey, you idiot."

Mitsui propped himself up on his knees and dusted off his basketball shorts.

His arrogant demeanor made it seem as if he wasn't the one who had just fallen, but rather that he was the one who had knocked someone down.

He glanced at Sakuragi, a mocking smile playing on his lips, typical of a seasoned veteran.

"You're too easy to fool!"

"You flew away just because someone shook their head slightly?"

Sakuragi Hanamichi froze for a moment, then his face turned bright red, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Shut up! You mistress!"

"This genius was just careless for a moment! Do you even understand what carelessness is?!"

"That last curly-haired guy was just lucky. If it happened again, this genius would definitely turn him into a meat patty!"

Mitsui ignored Sakuragi's impotent rage.

As I walked past him, I reached out and pressed hard on his red head.

His tone suddenly became serious:

"Don't let them get away with it so easily."

"You are the last line of defense for our inside game."

"If you leak, I'll have to come over and wipe your butt, and that hurts a lot, okay?"

Sakuragi felt the pressure coming from above his head, and the words he was about to say suddenly got stuck in his throat.

He watched Mitsui's retreating figure as he walked towards the serve point.

Although that figure wasn't particularly broad-shouldered.

But he exudes a reassuring composure, and also has a touch of "big brother" demeanor.

"cut……"

Sakuragi pursed his lips and muttered something under his breath:

"Who asked you to wipe my butt..."

"This genius can handle it himself."

Although he said that, Sakuragi's gaze towards Fukuda changed.

It's no longer that kind of blind disdain.

Rather, it is the vigilance and ferocity of a wild beast after its territory has been invaded.

"Curly hair..."

Sakuragi lowered his center of gravity and spread his arms out like a fully drawn bow.

"I've memorized that debt from earlier."

the other side.

Fukuda Kichijo's face was extremely grim.

He stared intently at Mitsui Hisashi, his fists clenched until they turned white.

That shot was clearly going in.

He was about to become a hero.

But it was ruined by this "sixth brother" who suddenly appeared.

"hateful……"

Fukuda gritted his teeth, feeling suffocated by the intense sense of defeat, his mentality on the verge of exploding.

Just then, a hand landed on his shoulder.

Sendoh Akira walked over at some point, still wearing that nonchalant smile on his face.

"Don't worry about it, Ah Fu."

Sendoh's voice was soft, yet it possessed a strange, soothing quality:

"That Mitsui Hisashi was once the MVP."

"It's not shameful to be outsmarted by him once."

As Sendoh spoke, his gaze swept across the halfway line and landed on the Shohoku bench.

They met Lin Bei's eyes, which seemed to be smiling but weren't.

Lin Bei was holding a bottle of water and giving a thumbs-up to Mitsui Hisashi on the field.

Then, he lazily looked at Sendoh, his lips moved slightly, and he silently uttered a few words.

Sendoh narrowed his eyes and understood the lip reading.

What Lin Bei said was...

"Stop struggling, just give up, I want to go home and sleep."

Sendoh was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help but burst out laughing.

That smile held an unprecedented fighting spirit.

"Go home and sleep?"

"That won't do, Lin Bei."

"Now that you've stirred up my fighting spirit..."

"How could we let you clock out so easily?"

The competition has only just begun, it's just the warm-up.

……

The dull thud from the violent impact still seemed to echo on the arena floor.

Mitsui Hisashi was pulled up, rubbing his chest, a smug yet confident smile on his face.

Akagi Takenori strode over, his face, which was usually as dark as a door god, now unusually relaxed.

He stretched out his large, calloused hand and slapped it heavily on Mitsui's shoulder with a "smack".

"Well done, Mitsui."

"That foul was crucial; it completely shut down Ryonan's momentum," Akagi said in a deep, resonant voice.

"Tch, don't give me that crap."

"How could such a petty trick escape my eyes?"

Mitsui verbally expressed his disdain, but his body language betrayed him as he puffed out his chest, unable to suppress the smug smile on his lips.

There was a bittersweet understanding between the two, a kind of unspoken bond unique to old comrades-in-arms.

However, next to this touching scene of "harmony between the general and the minister," a red-haired monkey is standing still, "red-faced."

Sakuragi Hanamichi stood there stiffly.

Watching Akagi and Mitsui exchanging glances, his face turned as red as a ripe tomato, and his head seemed to be steaming.

His fists were clenched tightly, and the veins on his forehead throbbed.

My mind is flooded with comments.

"Damn...that horrible gorilla!"

"You pretended to be blind when I blocked your shot!"

"When this genius delivered that 'light-speed ball,' all you did was criticize me!"

"Now that the mistress has just lay down on the ground, you're praising him for 'doing a great job'?"

"Double standards! This is blatant double standard behavior!"