Fukuda was already airborne.
His old momentum had run out, and no new force could be generated. After that full-speed drive, the inertia was overwhelming—he simply couldn't change direction midair.
All he could do was watch helplessly as he barreled forward like a runaway truck—
straight into that "statue."
"BANG!!!"
A heavy, flesh-on-flesh collision echoed across the court.
Mitsui Hisashi went down on impact.
But his fall was textbook-perfect—leaning back, sliding with the force, dispersing most of the impact.
It was practically a masterclass in drawing a charge.
"BEEP!!!"
The referee's whistle pierced the air.
Without hesitation, the head referee slammed his fist into his palm, signaling decisively:
"Ryonan #13, charging foul!"
"Offensive foul!"
"Shohoku ball!"
The entire arena erupted.
"Holy crap! That call was spot on!"
"When did Mitsui even get there? I didn't see it at all!"
"That's insane—textbook foul-drawing! This guy's playing on another level!"
Ryonan Bench
Coach Taoka Moichi's smile froze on his face.
He looked like he'd just swallowed a fly—and had no choice but to gulp it down.
"How… is that possible?"
"How could Mitsui abandon Koshino to help on defense?"
"Did he… read our play from the start?"
In the Stands
Maki Shinichi clapped lightly, admiration clear in his eyes.
"Beautiful."
"He didn't just anticipate Ryonan's strategy—he trusted his own positioning completely."
"The moment Fukuda made his move, Mitsui was already rotating."
Fujima Kenji sighed softly, eyes fixed on Mitsui.
"So this is the basketball IQ of a former middle school MVP…"
"Even after two years away, that instinct hasn't dulled at all."
"And…"
His gaze shifted toward the Shohoku bench.
"That Makino Juro… doesn't seem surprised in the slightest."
On the Court
Mitsui rubbed his chest as he sat up.
That hit wasn't light—Fukuda might look lean, but he hit like a brick.
Still, Mitsui's expression was relaxed, even a little smug.
He looked up at Sakuragi Hanamichi, who was still standing there in a daze, mouth slightly open—clearly not over what had just happened.
"Hey, idiot."
Mitsui pushed himself up, dusting off his shorts.
That cocky posture made it look like he was the one who knocked someone down.
He glanced at Sakuragi, lips curling into that veteran smirk.
"You got played way too easily."
"One little fake and you were already flying."
Sakuragi froze for a second, then his face flushed red like a tomato.
"S-Shut up, Mitsui!"
"This genius just let his guard down! Got it?!"
"That curly-haired guy just got lucky! If he tries that again, I'll block him into minced meat!"
Mitsui ignored the outburst.
As he passed by Sakuragi, he casually pressed down on that bright red head.
His tone suddenly turned serious.
"Don't let people get past you so easily."
"You're our last line of defense inside."
"If you mess up, I have to clean it up for you—and that hurts, you know."
Sakuragi felt the weight on his head.
The words he was about to fire back got stuck in his throat.
He watched Mitsui walk toward the inbound spot.
That back… wasn't especially broad.
But it carried a strange sense of reliability.
Like a seasoned big brother.
"Tch…"
Sakuragi muttered under his breath.
"Who needs you to clean up after me…"
"This genius can handle it himself."
Even so—
The way he looked at Fukuda changed.
No more blind arrogance.
Now, it was the wary, feral gaze of a beast guarding its territory.
"Curly-head…"
Sakuragi lowered his stance, arms spread like a drawn bow.
"I'm remembering that one."
On the Other Side
Fukuda's expression had turned ugly.
He stared at Mitsui, fists clenched so tight they turned pale.
That shot… had been his.
He was supposed to be the hero.
And yet..
This "sneaky bastard" had ruined everything.
"Damn it…"
The frustration clawed at his chest, threatening to explode.
Just then—
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Sendoh Akira had appeared beside him at some point, that ever-casual smile still on his face.
"Don't sweat it, Fuku."
His voice was light, but strangely calming.
"That's Mitsui Hisashi—the former MVP."
"Getting outplayed by him once isn't embarrassing."
As he spoke, Sendoh's gaze drifted across the court—
landing directly on Makino Juro at the Shohoku bench.
Makino Juro was holding a water bottle, casually giving Mitsui a thumbs-up.
Then, he lazily looked back at Sendoh and mouthed a few silent words.
Sendoh narrowed his eyes.
He read it clearly.
"Stop struggling. Just surrender already. I want to go home and sleep."
Sendoh paused—
Then burst out laughing.
But this time, there was something new in that smile.
A spark of battle.
"Go home and sleep?"
"That's not happening, Makino Juro."
"You've already stirred my fighting spirit…"
"How could I let you clock out that easily?"
The game...
Was only just warming up.
Back on the Court
The echo of that collision still seemed to linger on the hardwood.
Mitsui was pulled to his feet, rubbing his chest, that cocky grin still plastered on his face.
Akagi Takenori strode over.
That usually stern, iron-faced expression finally softened.
He raised his calloused hand—
SMACK!
and gave Mitsui a heavy pat on the shoulder.
"Nice work, Mitsui."
"That charge was crucial. You completely killed their momentum."
His deep voice carried clear approval.
"Tch, spare me."
"Like that kind of trick would escape my eyes."
Mitsui scoffed—but his chest puffed out ever so slightly, unable to hide his pride.
The two shared that familiar, battle-worn chemistry.
Like old comrades who didn't need many words.
And right beside this heartwarming scene—
A certain red-haired monkey was overheating on the spot.
Sakuragi stood there stiffly.
Watching Akagi and Mitsui exchange looks.
His face turned bright red—like a tomato about to explode.
Steam practically rose from his head.
His fists clenched tight, veins bulging.
His inner thoughts were flooding like bullet comments:
"Y-You damn gorilla!"
"When this genius blocked that shot earlier, you pretended to be blind!"
"When I unleashed that 'light-speed pass,' all you did was yell at me!"
"But now Mitsui just lies down once, and you're praising him like 'Nice work'?!"
"This is double standards! Naked, shameless double standards!!"
END OF CHAPTER
You can access now the advanced chapters of this game!
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
👉 patreon.com/MrBehringer