Five days passed in a blur.
Cory Grant immersed himself completely in basketball. Outside of eating and sleeping, he practically lived in the Shohoku gym. Walking to school, he dribbled. Between classes, he practiced hand drills. And every day, he spent eight straight hours working on his game.
Most of his time went into grinding his **Crossover Step** and **Pull-Up Jumper.** They weren't flashy routines—crossover, stop, jumper, repeat—but the compounding effect was undeniable. His body and his system grew sharper together.
Like a game addict hooked on experience bars, Cory smiled through the pain. *Hard work can't replace talent,* he thought, *but what if effort unlocks the talent buried underneath?*
The cost? His body demanded fuel every two hours. He ate five meals a day—like clockwork. Food became fuel, and his stats soared by the day.
***
### Current Panel
**Name:** Cory Grant
**Age:** 15
**Height:** 5'9" (174 cm)
**Wingspan:** 5'11" (180 cm)
**Weight:** 128 lbs (58 kg)
**Physical Attributes**
- Strength: 55
- Speed: 66
- Stamina: 69
- Flexibility: 75
- Reflexes: MAX
- Injury Resistance: MAX
- Explosiveness: 59
- Jumping: 57
**Offensive Skills**
- Ball Handling: 70
- Passing: 59
- Layups: 75
- Inside Shots: 63
- Mid-Range: 68
- Three-Point Shooting: 71
- Free Throws: 73
- Off-Ball Movement: 64
**Defensive Skills**
- Steals: 55
- On-Ball Defense: 58
- Defensive Rebounds: 51
**Skills:**
- Crossover Step LV5 (1900/2000)
- Pull-Up Jumper LV5 (700/2000)
**Condition:** Good
**Evaluation:** Strong-Team Sixth Man
***
In just five days, Cory had climbed to a whole new tier. Both his Crossover and Pull-Up had reached **Level 5.** His official evaluation even jumped to "sixth man on a strong team," roughly equivalent to his peak in the original Slam Dunk storyline.
He was finally catching up.
---
That afternoon, during practice, **Coach Anderson** actually appeared.
Head tilted, thermos in hand, he shuffled in slowly, his body swaying side to side like a wobbling pendulum. His face carried the same expressionless calm, as though nothing around him mattered.
Cory couldn't help but feel conflicted seeing him. A coach could change everything. And Anderson *was* one of the best tactical minds in Japan. But this Anderson wasn't the dynamic, fiery legend. This was his lazy, half-retired self—the "ghost coach" of Shohoku.
From Captain **Daniel Irving**, Cory had already learned that Coach Anderson barely showed up. Training was usually left to the players themselves. When he did come, he behaved like a mascot—present, but detached.
A stark contrast from **Coach Tian** of Ryonan, who built his program brick by brick. Tian had personally developed Victor "Tank" Uozumi into one of Kanagawa's best centers, transformed scrappy kids into valuable role players, and even recruited Sendoh from Tokyo. Tian never shied from responsibility—when his team failed, he took the blame himself. When players rebelled, he forgave and supported them until they flourished.
Anderson? He took no role in developing Shohoku's diamonds-in-the-rough: Charles Ackerman, Mitch Harris, Ryan Miller. Talents buried, left unguided.
Cory clenched his fists. If Shohoku fell in the county tournament, it wouldn't be because of players—it would be because of leadership that wasn't there.
---
"Coach!"
The Shohoku players quickly stood in line before him.
Coach Anderson took his usual seat, sipping calmly from his thermos. His eyes never betrayed energy or urgency.
"Daniel," he said blandly. "Arrange a scrimmage between the freshmen and the seniors."
"Understood, Coach," the captain replied smoothly. He wasn't surprised—Anderson always passed the responsibility down.
Turning to the team, Daniel raised his voice with authority. "Alright everyone—listen up! To build chemistry, we're running a **Freshmen vs. Seniors** game. Lineups will be announced immediately. Prepare yourselves!"
Players straightened, whispers cutting through the gym air. Excitement thickened the atmosphere—the real test was coming.
The freshmen had been grinding tirelessly all week. How would they stack against Shohoku's veterans?
Cory rolled the ball in his hands, his system whispering silently in his head.
*This was the moment.*