The basketball was still bouncing on the floor.
Thud… thud… thud…
Finally, it lost its momentum and rolled weakly toward the corner of the wall.
The monotonous sound felt especially piercing inside the deathly silent gym.
Shiozaki remained frozen in his blocking posture, stiff like a plaster statue.
He slowly turned his head, his eyes so wide they looked ready to pop out, staring at the still-swaying net.
What… just happened?
That posture…
That backward lean that completely defied human biomechanics—
And it still went in?
"N-No way…" Yasuda swallowed hard, his voice trembling.
Akagi Takenori's already dark face looked even more terrifying now, the veins at his temples throbbing violently.
His gaze locked onto Makino Juro, who was casually walking back toward the bench, his chest rising and falling heavily.
As the captain of the basketball team, Akagi had seen countless scoring methods.
Rukawa Kaede's drives.
Mitsui Hisashi's perfect arcing three-pointers.
Even Sakuragi Hanamichi's awkward underdog layups.
But never this kind of shot.
A basket that looked so careless and half-hearted—
Yet was absurdly accurate.
As if someone casually tossed a crumpled paper ball into a trash can.
"Stop right there!"
Akagi's voice rumbled low, like thunder before a storm.
Makino Juro's footsteps paused.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping, but didn't turn around.
"Captain, that counts as a three-pointer, right?"
"Adding that to earlier, my exercise quota should be enough."
"According to labor laws—uh, I mean school regulations—overtraining can negatively affect teenagers' growth."
Makino Juro raised his hand and waved weakly.
"Who said you could leave?"
Akagi strode forward in a few large steps, blocking Makino Juro like a towering mountain.
A massive shadow instantly engulfed him.
"Shoot that ball again."
"Huh?"
"Captain, that was just a lucky shot."
"Even if I tried a hundred more times, it wouldn't go in."
"My arms are sore and my legs feel weak. I need sugar immediately or I might faint on the court."
"And then everyone would have to call an ambulance… that'd be embarrassing."
Makino Juro lifted his eyelids slightly, his dead-fish eyes full of resistance.
"Enough nonsense!"
Akagi grabbed a basketball and shoved it forcefully into Makino Juro's arms.
"That posture. That release point."
"There's no way that was luck!"
"How much more are you hiding, brat?"
Makino Juro hugged the ball, feeling the rough leather surface.
Inside his mind, however, he was frantically cursing the system.
[Warning: Akagi Takenori's anger level is rising]
[A. Obey and shoot again (Reward: Akagi's Favorability +5)]
[B. Refuse overtime (Reward: Slacking Points +10, but risk violent suppression)]
Did this even require thinking?
Makino Juro had just been about to toss the ball back when—
A cold gaze suddenly pierced him.
It felt like being targeted by a predator.
Rukawa Kaede had somehow walked over without anyone noticing.
His usually sleepy eyes were now shining sharply, locked tightly onto Makino Juro.
"Hey."
Rukawa spoke, blunt and direct.
"Play me."
"No."
Makino Juro rejected him instantly.
Playing basketball with this guy?
That was absolutely the most exhausting thing in the world, bar none.
When Rukawa played basketball, the word "rest" simply didn't exist in his dictionary.
"Afraid of losing?"
Rukawa raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an infuriating hint of provocation.
"Psychological tricks don't work on me."
Makino Juro yawned and stuffed the ball into Rukawa's chest.
"You're the ace. I'm just a slacker."
"If a slacker loses to the ace, that's perfectly natural."
"I surrender. This point counts as yours. Congratulations on your victory."
After saying that, he tried to walk around Rukawa.
"Hold it!"
This time, it was Sakuragi Hanamichi who jumped out.
The red-haired monkey blocked the path with an annoyed expression, nose pointing toward the sky.
"What's so great about that stupid fox Rukawa?!"
"You—uh—what's your name again! Pretty boy!"
"If you're going to play someone, play against this genius!"
"I'm the man who's going to become the next basketball team captain!"
The scene instantly turned chaotic.
Ayako stood nearby with her paper fan, watching the mess helplessly.
But her gaze kept drifting toward Makino Juro.
That shot earlier…
Was it really just a coincidence?
"Everyone shut up!"
Akagi's thunderous roar instantly silenced the entire gym.
He stared at Makino Juro and suddenly sneered.
"Makino Juro, you want to slack off, right?"
"It's called resting, Captain."
"Efficient rest leads to better productivity."
Makino Juro nodded honestly.
"Fine."
"You and Rukawa play three balls."
"If you can win even one point, you don't have to attend morning practice anymore, and you can leave afternoon training half an hour early."
Akagi pointed at Rukawa.
Makino Juro's ears shot upright instantly.
His dead-fish eyes widened.
In his pupils, the words "Leave Early" seemed to glow with golden light.
No waking up early?
And he could leave early too?
This was basically the ultimate form of paid vacation.
"Captain, verbal promises aren't reliable."
"Should we sign a contract?"
Makino Juro suddenly looked completely refreshed—no back pain, no leg pain.
"I keep my word."
"But if you lose…"
"Your training volume doubles. And you'll be responsible for wiping the gym floor for an entire month."
Akagi's mouth twitched.
"Deal."
Makino Juro turned around.
The way he looked at Rukawa Kaede had completely changed.
It was no longer the look he gave troublemakers.
It was the look someone gave a 'leave-early pass.'
"Classmate Rukawa."
"For the sake of my sleep quality…"
"I'll have to trouble you."
Rukawa said nothing.
He simply tossed the ball to Makino Juro.
Then he lowered his center of gravity and assumed a defensive stance.
The air instantly froze.
The first-year students held their breath.
Even the upperclassmen gathered around.
Everyone wanted to know whether this guy who had been sleeping in the corner all day was just a flash in the pan.
"That Makino Juro is definitely going to get crushed by Rukawa."
"Yeah, Rukawa was the ace of Tomigaoka Junior High…"
Amid the murmuring voices, the 188 cm Makino Juro stood beyond the three-point line, gripping the ball with one hand.
He looked at Rukawa, who stood ready in front of him.
Rukawa's defense really was good.
His center of gravity was low.
His eyes were focused.
Almost no openings.
If Makino Juro used normal methods, scoring on him would probably require at least two pounds of sweat.
Way too inefficient.
"Let's end this quickly."
Makino Juro thought silently.
[Active Skill: Super High-Speed Dribbling (Aomine Daiki) Activated]
BOOM!
The basketball slammed against the floor.
And in that instant—
Makino Juro moved.
No fake.
No probing step.
Just pure, extreme—
Speed.
Rukawa's pupils shrank suddenly.
In his vision, Makino Juro's figure seemed to blur for a split second.
So fast!
His body instinctively tried to move right to block.
But before his brain could even issue the command—
A gust of wind had already brushed past his ear.
"What?!"
Rukawa spun around.
All he saw was a lazy back disappearing behind him.
Makino Juro had already penetrated the paint.
Facing the completely unguarded hoop, he didn't even bother jumping for a dunk.
He simply lifted the ball casually and performed a soft finger roll.
The basketball obediently dropped into the net.
1 : 0
The entire process took less than two seconds.
The gym once again fell into that strange silence.
Akagi Takenori's jaw slowly dropped open.
The clipboard in his hand nearly fell to the floor.
That speed…
That explosive power…
Was that really the same Makino Juro who got out of breath after running two steps?