[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained a new template: Midorima Shintaro (SG)]
[Skill Unlocked: Full-Range Shooting (Beginner · Three-Point Range)]
[Skill Description: As long as the shooting form is not disrupted, the hit rate within the three-point line range increases to 100%.]
[Current Templates]
[Kuroko Tetsuya (PG)] – Misdirection, Ignite Pass, Vanishing Dribble
[Aomine Daiki (PF)] – Formless Shot, Ultra-Speed Dribble
[Midorima Shintaro (SG)] – Full-Court Shooting
"Midorima Shintaro, huh…"
The corner of Makino Juro's mouth curled upward, revealing a smile that left the nearby Ayako utterly confused.
"Do your best… and leave the rest to fate."
"This skill actually suits a lazy person like me perfectly."
No need to drive.
No need to fight for position.
Just stand still and score.
Simply put, it was the ultimate secret technique of slacking off.
"Beep—!"
Timeout ended.
The game resumed.
Shohoku had possession.
Everyone assumed Shohoku would rush for a quick two-pointer, considering how little time remained.
However, after receiving the ball, Makino Juro didn't push the pace.
Instead, he casually dribbled across half-court, looking half-asleep as usual.
Ryonan's defense shrank inside the three-point line.
Sendoh Akira stood at the top of the arc, watching Makino Juro cautiously.
"Going to drive again?" Sendoh lowered his stance.
"Or pass it to Rukawa Kaede?"
Makino Juro suddenly stopped.
At this moment, he was still two full steps outside the three-point line.
Normally, that distance was considered a safe zone used to organize an offense. Defenders rarely pressed closely there.
Sendoh thought the same.
He took half a step back, preparing to defend either a drive or a pass.
But in the very next second—
he witnessed a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Makino Juro raised the ball.
Right there, nearly eight meters from the basket, he lifted his hands casually.
Left hand stabilizing the ball.
Right hand supporting it.
The posture was as standard as something from a basketball textbook.
"What is he doing?!"
"Shooting from there?! Has he lost his mind?!"
On the sidelines, Taoka Moichi stared with wide eyes.
"Has he given up?"
Uozumi Jun snorted in disdain.
"There's no way a shot like that could—"
Before he finished speaking—
Makino Juro jumped.
His leap wasn't very high, yet his hang time felt strangely long.
At the peak of his jump, he gently released the basketball.
The ball soared extremely high.
So high it almost seemed ready to touch the gymnasium's ceiling.
Everyone in the arena had to tilt their heads upward, their eyes following the orange sphere.
Time seemed to freeze.
The basketball traced an incredibly high arc through the air.
Like a precision-guided missile, it descended toward the hoop.
Sendoh suddenly turned his head.
Reflected in his pupils was the falling basketball.
A terrible premonition instantly gripped his heart.
"Could it be…?"
Swish!
A crisp net sound exploded through the silent gym.
It was the purest sound in basketball—
a perfect swish.
The ball hit the floor and bounced.
The entire arena fell silent for two seconds.
Then
like a detonated powder keg—
the crowd's screams nearly blew off the roof.
"It—It went in?!"
"You've got to be kidding! What was that height?!"
"Did he throw the ball into the stratosphere or something?!"
On the sidelines.
Taoka Moichi looked like a duck being strangled, his finger trembling as he pointed at Makino Juro.
"That was luck… it has to be luck!"
Nearby, Aida Hikoichi dropped his pen with a clatter, his mouth wide enough to fit a fist.
"Incredible!!"
"I must write this down!"
"But… how am I even supposed to record something like that?!"
Hikoichi clutched his head, feeling as if his entire understanding of basketball was collapsing.
Even the referee froze for a moment before blowing the whistle and raising both hands.
"Th–three points… good!"
The scoreboard changed.
83 : 77
The gap shrank instantly to six points.
Makino Juro landed and pushed up a pair of nonexistent glasses.
Looking at the dumbfounded Sendoh—and the petrified Taoka on the sidelines—he lazily let out a yawn.
"Ah, sorry. My hand slipped just now."
"But…"
Makino Juro's eyes suddenly sharpened like a blade leaving its sheath, stabbing straight into the hearts of the Ryonan players.
"Have you figured out how you're going to lose yet, Sendoh?"
At that moment
the locker room door was violently pushed open.
Bang!
The heavy crash drew everyone's attention.
A massive figure walked out.
His head was wrapped in thick bandages, like a wounded beast returning to the battlefield.
Akagi Takenori.
Even though half his face was still stained with blood, the oppressive aura around him was even stronger than before.
"Gorilla!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi's eyes lit up as if he had just seen a savior.
Akagi strode to the scorer's table, his gaze sweeping across the scoreboard before finally landing on Makino Juro.
When he saw the reduced score gap, a barely noticeable flicker of emotion crossed his stern face.
"Good job."
Akagi stepped to the sideline, subbing in for the completely exhausted Kakuta Satoru.
He clapped his hands loudly.
Clap! Clap!
"We haven't lost yet!"
"Shohoku—attack!"
With Akagi's return, Shohoku's crumbling interior defense instantly became a towering wall again.
"Hmph… so you're finally back, Akagi."
Uozumi stared at his old rival, fighting spirit blazing in his eyes.
"Uozumi, your good days are over."
Akagi replied coldly.
With Akagi holding Uozumi down in the paint, Sakuragi suddenly felt like the mountain crushing him had been lifted away.
He rolled his sore shoulders and stuck his tongue out at Uozumi.
"Bleh! Monkey boss! Your opponent is the Gorilla!"
"This genius is going on a rampage now!"
The game resumed.
Ryonan attacked.
Sendoh Akira had the ball.
The relaxed expression he always wore was gone.
Those smiling eyes were now sharp as blades.
"Rukawa Kaede."
Sendoh stared at his opponent.
Rukawa lowered his stance, eyes locked on the ball in Sendoh's hands as sweat dripped from his sharp chin.
"I'll guard this possession."
His voice was cold and resolute.
"Then let's see it."
Sendoh moved.
No flashy fakes.
Just pure speed and strength.
The two collided like bolts of lightning across the court.
Muscles clashed.
Sneakers screeched against the floor.
"Wow! Rukawa actually kept up with Sendoh's speed!"
A bespectacled spectator shouted in amazement.
"But Sendoh is stronger!"
At the exact moment Rukawa attempted a steal—
Sendoh dribbled behind his back, subtly creating space.
He stopped suddenly.
Jump shot.
The basketball dropped cleanly through the hoop.
85 : 77
Rukawa said nothing, but the fire in his eyes burned even hotter.
Possession switched.
Makino Juro slowly dribbled across half-court again.
Immediately, Koshino Hiroaki and Uekusa Tomoyuki rushed toward him like two sharks smelling blood.
"Double-team him! Don't let him shoot!"
Taoka Moichi shouted hysterically from the sidelines.
That bizarre high-arcing three-pointer had already become his nightmare.
Makino Juro looked at the two aggressive defenders in front of him and sighed helplessly.
"Seriously… can't you just let me take a quiet shot?"
"Why do you have to force me to use my ultimate move?"
Makino Juro suddenly stopped dribbling.
He took a deep breath and shouted toward the paint:
"Sakuragi! Fusion!"