"Quit nagging!"
"How could a genius like me possibly embarrass himself?!"
Akagi Takenori finally forced himself to stand up. With Ayako supporting him, he slowly walked toward the locker room.
"Don't think you can win just because I'm not here, Uozumi Jun."
As he passed by Uozumi, Akagi paused and coldly threw out that sentence.
Uozumi clenched his fists, his voice low and firm.
"I'll defeat your substitute fair and square… and wait for you to come back."
Akagi left the court.
And with him, Shohoku lost the pillar of their inside defense.
The atmosphere in the entire gymnasium instantly became subtle and tense.
On the sidelines, Taoka Moichi let out a quiet sigh of relief. Though it felt somewhat like an unfair advantage, it was undeniably the perfect opportunity for Ryonan to strike back.
"Listen up!" Taoka shouted.
"Without Akagi, Shohoku's paint is completely empty!"
"Uozumi! Attack the basket with everything you've got!"
"Crush that red-haired kid!"
Taoka waved his fists wildly, spittle flying as he barked out orders.
The game resumed.
With Akagi no longer there to restrain him, Uozumi Jun completely transformed into a monster in the paint.
Bang!
Uozumi caught the ball, spun, and simply shouldered past Sakuragi Hanamichi before slamming the ball down with one hand.
69 — 68.
Ryonan took the lead.
"Damn it! That monkey boss is insanely strong!" Sakuragi rubbed his aching chest, baring his teeth in pain.
"Idiot. Your center of gravity is too high."
"Do you have a pig's brain?"
Rukawa Kaede walked past him coldly, those fox-like eyes filled with pure disdain.
"What did you say?! You damn fox!"
"If that had been you just now, you'd have been knocked straight into the stands!" Sakuragi exploded instantly, ramming his forehead against Rukawa's.
"Moron." Rukawa casually pushed Sakuragi's face aside.
Next possession.
Rukawa had the ball.
Facing the defense of Sendoh Akira, he didn't pass. Instead, he forced his way through.
A quick between-the-legs dribble—followed by a huge crossover.
So fast!
Even Sendoh was shaken half a step off balance.
Rukawa burst into the lane.
Facing the help defense of Uozumi, he stretched out in midair and executed an incredibly smooth double-clutch layup.
He dodged the block and flipped the ball in with a reverse.
Swish!
The ball went in.
69 — 70.
Shohoku clung tightly to the score.
Rukawa landed and glanced sideways at Sakuragi.
He didn't say anything.
But his eyes clearly said one thing:
This is how you play basketball.
"Gyaaahhh! I'm gonna explode from anger!"
Sakuragi stomped in place furiously.
"Give me the ball! I want to score too!"
But Ryonan gave Shohoku no breathing room.
Sendoh Akira stepped forward.
Looking at the chaotic situation on the court, the corner of his mouth curved into a calm smile.
"Everyone relax."
Sendoh raised one finger.
"Let's score one more."
Ryonan attacked.
Sendoh dribbled past half-court. Facing Rukawa's defense, he suddenly accelerated.
Not a drive—
A pass?
No.
Fake pass, real drive!
The moment Rukawa's center of gravity shifted, Sendoh had already slipped past like a gust of wind.
"Sakuragi! Help defense!" Makino Juro shouted from behind.
But he didn't need to.
Sakuragi had already rushed forward.
"You're not getting past me, mop-head!"
Sakuragi leapt high into the air, both arms spread wide like a wall covering the sky, aiming to give Sendoh a massive block.
His terrifying jumping ability made the entire arena gasp.
But Sendoh showed no panic in midair.
Looking at the rookie in front of him who didn't know the limits of heaven and earth, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
"You can jump pretty high."
"But…"
Sendoh suddenly paused in midair for a split second.
Only when Sakuragi began to descend did he explode upward again.
Poster dunk!
BOOM!
Sendoh slammed the ball through the rim with one hand, the enormous impact knocking Sakuragi flat onto the floor.
71 — 70.
The entire arena erupted.
"Sendoh! Sendoh! Sendoh!"
Cheers crashed down like a tidal wave.
Sendoh landed and looked down at Sakuragi lying on the court.
His face still carried that harmless, easygoing smile.
But his words were ice-cold.
"Sakuragi-kun, jumping high alone isn't enough."
"Basketball… isn't such a simple sport."
Sakuragi stared blankly at Sendoh's back, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.
This was pure dominance in strength.
The next few minutes became Shohoku's darkest moment.
Without Akagi, their inside was like a tiger that had lost its teeth.
Uozumi used his height and weight advantage to wreak havoc under the basket.
Hook shot—good.
Second-chance putback—good.
Drawing fouls—free throws.
And although Sakuragi fought with everything he had, in front of the experienced Uozumi he looked like nothing more than a headless fly crashing around blindly.
"Foul! Red number 10! Pushing foul!"
The referee's whistle rang again and again.
Sakuragi Hanamichi already had three fouls, panting heavily, sweat pouring down his face.
The score gap widened rapidly.
75 — 70
79 — 72
83 — 74
Two minutes remained in the game.
Ryonan led by nine points.
In a high school basketball game, trailing by nine points with only two minutes left—
and with the starting center gone—
this was practically a death sentence.
"Timeout!"
Coach Anzai Mitsuyoshi finally called a timeout.
The Shohoku players dragged their heavy legs back to the bench.
Each of them looked like they had just been pulled out of water, their jerseys completely soaked with sweat.
A sense of despair began to spread.
"Damn it… damn it…"
Sakuragi slammed his fist onto a chair, a towel covering his head as his body trembled slightly.
He refused to accept it.
He was supposed to be the secret weapon.
The genius.
Yet he had been humiliated repeatedly by those two.
Juro collapsed into the far corner of the bench, a bottle of mineral water in his hand.
"Ha…"
He tilted his head back and stared at the glaring lights on the ceiling.
Tired.
Truly tired.
Every muscle in his body was protesting, and his lungs felt like they were burning.
"So this is what they call youth?"
"What a… smelly and exhausting thing."
Makino Juro twisted open the bottle cap.
Using the motion of drinking as cover, his thoughts shifted.
[System Notification]
[Use item: Stamina Potion (Medium)?]
"Use."
A cool liquid slid down his throat.
Instantly, the burning exhaustion receded like a retreating tide. His drained cells filled with energy once more.
Makino Juro let out a long breath, his eyes gradually clearing.
He glanced at the scoreboard.
83 : 74.
Then he looked toward the opposite side—
at the smug face of Taoka Moichi, and at Sendoh and Uozumi basking in the cheers.
"Honestly, I'd really love to just lie down and go home to sleep right now."
"But…"
Makino Juro's gaze swept across Sakuragi, who sat with his head lowered, and Rukawa, whose face was filled with unwilling frustration.
"If we lose to that old man…"
"I'll have to go back and get forced by Akagi to wipe the gym floor again."
"That kind of thing… absolutely not."
Makino Juro straightened his back.
[System Notification: Host still has 1 Skill Point unused]
[Use now?]
"Use it."
Makino Juro's consciousness sank into the system space.
A massive roulette wheel appeared before him, flashing with countless names.
Aomine Daiki.
Akashi Seijuro.
Murasakibara Atsushi.
Each one a monster.
"Give me something brutal."
"Preferably the kind that can score… without even needing to run."
Makino Juro muttered in his mind.
The roulette spun wildly.
Then slowly…
it stopped.
The pointer landed on a man with green hair, black-rimmed glasses, and bandaged fingers.