Sendoh ripped the towel off his head.
His sweat-soaked hair still stubbornly stood on end.
The trademark gentle smile had vanished from his pale face.
In its place...
Was a calmness so cold it was almost translucent.
He slowly stood.
His legs still wobbled from exhaustion.
But his back remained as straight as a spear.
Across from him...
Maki Shinichi rose as well.
His purple-and-gold jersey gleamed beneath the arena lights.
He looked like a fully fueled heavy tank, every inch of him radiating an overwhelming pressure that left others breathless.
On one side...
Sendoh—the gambler who had designed the decisive play, betting everything on ending the game in one final burst.
On the other...
Maki Shinichi—the emperor who had seen through the trap and calmly dragged the battle into a swamp where endurance would decide everything.
Neither had truly lost this duel.
Sendoh's gamble for the 2+1 game-winning script had failed...
But he had pulled Ryonan back from the edge of the cliff.
Maki had given up an immediate victory.
But in return...
He had dragged the game into the battlefield where he was strongest.
A merciless meat grinder...
Where stamina and willpower alone determined survival.
The two met at center court.
Their eyes collided.
The invisible sparks between them were almost tangible.
No words were necessary.
Sendoh took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the burning pain in his lungs.
He knew...
The next five minutes would be the longest five minutes of his life.
"It's not over yet, Maki."
Maki looked at him and curled his lips into a cruel smile.
"Your script has already ended, Sendoh."
"From here on..."
"It's my turn."
For that brief instant...
Their gazes reached a silent understanding.
"Let's go."
At the same time...
On a highway in Kanagawa.
The silver-gray supercar tore through the night like a bolt of lightning.
Its roaring engine echoed across the empty streets, frightening stray cats into scattering in every direction.
"S-Slow down!"
"Juro! Are you trying to make this thing fly?!"
Ayako clutched the passenger-side handle with all her strength.
Her knuckles had turned white.
The tremendous acceleration pinned her firmly against the seat, and her face had become as pale as paper.
"Quiet."
Makino Juro kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel.
His gaze was as cold as ice.
He had exchanged every last point of his Slacker Value for professional racing skills.
The speedometer needle was dancing wildly inside the red zone.
Yet...
His foot never eased off the accelerator.
"If Old Man Anzai wakes up and finds out we're still crawling along the road..."
"That's when we're really in trouble."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it carried an unquestionable determination.
That chubby old man...
The coach who always smiled as he watched them fool around...
The pillar who steadied Shohoku whenever it mattered most...
Nothing could happen to him.
"Buckle up."
"I'll show you a proper drift."
Makino Juro suddenly jerked the steering wheel.
The car carved into the corner at an angle that seemed to defy the laws of physics.
The tires screamed violently against the asphalt, leaving behind long black skid marks.
"Five minutes to the hospital."
Makino Juro glanced at the navigation screen.
His eyes sharpened even further.
The engine roared once more as he buried the accelerator deeper.
Every second of overtime...
Felt endlessly stretched.
Like a violin string pulled beyond its limit.
Sweat struck the hardwood...
Shattering into countless droplets.
The air had become thick like paste, saturated with the scent of hormones and despair.
Even the court itself seemed to tremble...
As though it feared the overloaded ambitions of these young players.
In the last row of the stands...
Fujima Kenji remained standing.
His normally tranquil eyes, like a frozen lake...
Were locked onto the staggering figure on the court.
"It's over."
Beside him...
Hanagata Toru quietly sighed as he removed his glasses and wiped the lenses.
There was pity in his voice.
And helplessness.
On the court...
Sendoh Akira was still running.
His lungs felt as though he had swallowed burning charcoal.
Every breath scorched him from the inside.
The muscles in his calves cramped violently.
Yet...
He forced himself to become a nail...
Driving himself firmly into Maki's path.
But...
He was only one man.
Without Uozumi Jun protecting the paint...
Ryonan's interior defense had become like a hermit crab stripped of its shell.
Soft.
Fragile.
Fatally vulnerable.
Maki Shinichi showed no mercy.
Kanagawa's emperor charged like a fully loaded heavy tank.
Every collision carried overwhelming, unreasonable power.
He knew perfectly well...
Sendoh was an extraordinary blade.
But no matter how sharp a blade was...
It would eventually chip when striking solid granite.
"This..."
"Is the difference."
Fujima's eyes grew profound.
Watching Sendoh, a guard, desperately trying to patch every hole in his team's defense...
He understood that feeling of fighting alone all too well.
"Sendoh has realized it."
"Without Uozumi..."
"This team's ceiling is locked."
"And yet..."
"He still wants to win."
"He wants to overturn the mountain called Kainan..."
"With nothing but a one-man performance."
Inside the arena...
The glowing red numbers on the scoreboard were as glaring as fresh blood.
90:96.
A six-point deficit.
With so little time remaining...
It might as well have been an uncrossable abyss.
Every spectator was on their feet.
The deafening cheers shook the entire arena.
The countdown echoed like a death sentence...
Hammering into the hearts of every Ryonan player.
"Five!"
Maki dribbled calmly with his back to the defender.
Steady as a mountain.
"Four!"
Sendoh lunged.
His final desperate gamble.
His fingertips came within inches of touching the basketball.
"Three!"
Maki spun smoothly, shielding the ball.
Absolute authority filled those violet eyes.
The unwavering confidence of a king.
"Two!"
The basketball soared high into the air.
It arced beneath the arena ceiling...
As though mocking the futile struggles of ordinary men.
"One!"
BEEEEEP!!!
The final buzzer wailed across the arena.
The red light illuminated.
Everything was decided.
90:96.
Kainan University Affiliated High School wins!
"We won!!!"
Kiyota Nobunaga leaped onto Jin Soichiro's back like an overexcited wild monkey, screaming at the top of his lungs.
The Kainan bench instantly exploded.
White jerseys surged together into a joyous sea.
On the opposite end of the court...
There was only deathly silence.
Bang.
Koshino collapsed to his knees.
His fists repeatedly slammed into the hardwood with dull, heavy thuds.
Sweat and tears mixed together as they splashed onto the floor, spreading into dark stains.
Fukuda Kicchou tilted his head upward.
Staring blankly into the dazzling arena lights.
The face that was usually filled with fierce determination...
Had gone completely empty.
As though his soul had been ripped away.
Uozumi Jun remained seated on the bench.
A giant towel completely covered his head.
No one could see his expression.
But the violent trembling of his broad shoulders...
Along with the muffled sobs coming from beneath the towel...
Made everyone's heart ache.
They had lost.
Even after firing every last bullet they had.
Even after Sendoh had evolved into a monster...
They still lost.
At center court...
Two hands clasped together.
Maki Shinichi looked at the exhausted opponent standing before him.
The arrogance that had once filled his eyes was gone.
In its place...
Was something called recognition.
"You're strong, Sendoh."
His voice was low and hoarse, carrying the roughness of a warrior who had just survived a battlefield.
Sendoh breathed heavily.
His trademark upright hair had long since collapsed from sweat.
Even so...
He still managed to curl his lips into that familiar smile.
The warm smile that always put others at ease.
Only this time...
There was a trace of bitterness hidden within it.
"I still couldn't climb over the mountain called you..."
"Maki."
The two smiled at one another.
It was the silent understanding shared by the strong.
And...
The romance that belonged only to true competitors.
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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