That single "morons."
It landed like full-area damage—an AOE blast.
No one could tell if he was cursing Sakuragi, or Kiyota…
Or just hitting both with one shot.
Kiyota Nobunaga clenched his teeth the moment he saw Rukawa Kaede.
"Rukawa Kaede! Don't get cocky!"
"What I was trying to say just now is—Rukawa Kaede isn't the Best Rookie at all!"
"The Best Rookie in Kanagawa… can only be me!"
At that moment, Sakuragi Hanamichi suddenly stopped laughing.
He walked over to Rukawa's side, crossed his arms, and nodded with a serious face—as if discussing something academic.
"Yeah. I agree."
Kiyota froze.
He hadn't expected his red-haired rival to actually agree with him.
Was this… what they call great minds thinking alike?
"Hmph, at least you've got some taste—"
Just as Kiyota was about to praise him, Sakuragi suddenly bent down and grabbed the basketball.
"That damn fox, Rukawa Kaede, obviously isn't the Best Rookie."
Sakuragi's gaze sharpened.
His entire aura shifted in an instant—
As if he'd switched from a gag manga protagonist to a hot-blooded battle shonen lead.
"Because…"
BOOM!
The ball slammed violently against the floor.
The rebound shot up past his waist, packed with explosive force.
The next second—
Sakuragi moved.
No fancy crossovers.
No unnecessary flair.
Just pure, extreme—
Speed!
"Bang bang bang bang bang!"
The ball snapped rapidly between his hands.
His form still looked a little stiff—not nearly as smooth as Kiyota's.
But the sheer power and terrifying rhythm behind it made everyone suck in a cold breath.
This was the dribbling Makino Juro had drilled into him during special training.
It didn't need to look pretty.
It just had to be fast.
Violent.
And impossible to lose control.
"Th-this…"
Kiyota's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
His worldview took a direct hit.
"This amateur… how does he have ball control like that?!"
The crowd gasped even louder than before.
"Hey, wasn't that redhead only good at rebounds?"
"That dribble speed… it feels like the floor's about to crack!"
In the stands, the Sakuragi Army burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha! Hanamichi actually learned how to show off!"
"Looks like Juro's special training really worked!"
Mito Yohei wiped tears of laughter from his eyes—but there was clear relief hidden within them.
Sakuragi ended his dribble, gripping the ball in one hand.
He struck what he believed was an unbelievably cool pose, thumb pointing at himself.
"You're right, wild monkey."
"Rukawa Kaede isn't the Best Rookie."
Kiyota subconsciously nodded.
"Exactly…"
Then—
The two of them pointed at themselves at the exact same time.
Perfect synchronization.
"Because… the Best Rookie is ME!!!"
Their voices overlapped, echoing through the arena and rattling everyone's eardrums.
Rukawa stood to the side, watching the two clowns.
His lips twitched slightly.
Then he gave his verdict:
"Idiots."
Just as this three-way chaos was about to escalate into a full-blown fight—
A lazy figure strolled past them, yawning.
Makino Juro.
Hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded.
Clearly, he'd been looking for a place to nap before getting dragged into this noise.
"Move. Excuse me. Don't block the way—you're messing up my fresh air."
He walked through like he was in his own backyard, completely ignoring the tension.
Kiyota's sharp eyes caught him immediately.
"Hey! Number 16! You don't get to walk away!"
"And you—don't act so arrogant!"
"You're not the Best Rookie either!"
"Don't think beating Shoyo and Ryonan makes you special. In front of us, you're nothing!"
Makino Juro stopped.
Slowly turned around.
Tilted his head, looking at Kiyota with a puzzled expression.
"???"
"Me?"
He pointed at himself, then sighed helplessly—like an adult humoring a noisy kid.
"Best Rookie?"
"I'm just a passing Kamen Rider."
"Huh? What kind of nonsense is that?!"
Kiyota's brain short-circuited on the spot.
Before he could process it—
Makino Juro suddenly reached out.
The motion looked slow…
Yet carried an inexplicable inevitability.
Somehow...
The basketball in Sakuragi's hand had already appeared in Makino Juro's.
"If you've got that much energy…"
Makino Juro weighed the ball lightly in his hand.
A faint green glint flashed deep within his eyes.
[Midorima Shintaro Template — Activated]
He stood on the center-court logo.
A full half-court away from the basket.
No run-up.
No preparation.
He simply raised the ball casually with one hand…
Jumped—
And pushed it forward.
The form was textbook perfect.
Yet carried an eerie sense of wrongness.
Because the release angle..
Was absurdly high.
The ball left his hand...
Not toward the hoop—
But straight toward the ceiling!
"What is he doing?!"
"He's throwing it into the sky? Hunting birds?!"
"Has he given up?!"
Kiyota craned his neck back, eyes locked on the ball.
The basketball rose…
Higher…
Higher…
As if it would pierce through the arena roof and drift into space.
The entire arena fell silent.
Everyone stared upward, mouths wide open, watching this shot that openly defied physics.
Time seemed to freeze.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Just when everyone thought it would crash into the stands or shatter the lights—
The ball reached its peak.
Then dropped.
With suffocating vertical acceleration.
Like a meteor falling from the sky—
Straight toward Kainan's hoop.
"SWISH!!!"
A crisp, perfect net sound exploded in everyone's ears.
Nothing but net.
The net rippled like white waves, snapping sharply—as if applauding the shot.
The ball hit the ground.
Bounced once.
Twice.
And then—
Silence.
Dead silence.
You could hear people breathing.
Kiyota remained frozen, head tilted back, mouth wide enough to fit a lightbulb.
Completely petrified.
His mind blank.
Maki Shinichi's calm expression shattered instantly.
His pupils trembled.
Jin Soichiro dropped the towel in his hands.
Up in the stands—
Fujima Kenji shot to his feet, knocking his chair over with a loud crash.
Sendoh Akira crushed his lemon tea unconsciously, juice spilling down his hand.
"This… what is this…"
Someone's trembling whisper broke the silence.
And the next moment—
The entire arena erupted like a volcanic explosion!
"WHAT THE HELL!!!"
"From half-court?! That was a half-court shot?!"
"And that arc… did Newton just give up?!"
"That height—how long was it in the air, three seconds?!"
"Is that even humanly possible?!"
END OF CHAPTER
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The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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