"This move—'Wave Motion Curse Punch'—is absolutely unbeatable!"
"We'll make this our ultimate finishing move from now on!" Sakuragi bounced around excitedly like an overcaffeinated monkey.
"Relax, it's basic stuff. The real issue is that Monkey Boss's mental toughness is just too weak," Juro said lazily, flicking his wrist.
Watching the two clown around on the court—
In the backcourt, Ryota Miyagi's face went completely dark.
He covered his face, wearing an expression that screamed "I don't know these idiots."
"Hey! You two!"
"We're just playing basketball—do you really have to make it this dramatic?!"
Even as he complained, Miyagi couldn't suppress the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
That psychological play just now…
Was absolute perfection.
They'd completely broken Uozumi.
The game continued.
Even though Uozumi had embarrassed himself at the free-throw line, the match had to go on.
Mitsui brought the ball up, looking to pass to Miyagi—
But Sendoh, who had been lurking in ambush, snatched it away in an instant!
"So fast!" Mitsui's expression changed.
Without hesitation, Sendoh launched a long pass downcourt.
There—
Uozumi was already charging forward in long strides, heading straight for Shohoku's wide-open basket.
"This time…"
Uozumi stared at the unguarded rim, flames of vengeance burning in his eyes.
"No one can stop me!!"
He thundered into the free-throw line.
Gripping the ball with both hands, he prepared to unleash a powerful two-handed dunk—one that would wash away all his humiliation.
But the moment he jumped—
A sharp screech of sneakers cutting across the floor came from behind him.
It sounded like a countdown from the Grim Reaper.
"Watch your back!" Hikoichi Aida screamed from the sidelines, his voice cracking.
But it was already too late.
Just as Uozumi reached the peak of his jump, ready to smash the ball into the rim...
A figure appeared from behind, cutting to his front midair—
And rose.
Makino Juro.
Like a hunting hawk, he positioned himself perfectly above Uozumi.
"I already told you…"
Juro extended one hand, his five fingers clamping down on the basketball like iron pincers.
"No flying here."
BOOM!!
The two collided violently in midair.
Uozumi held the ball with both hands, his strength terrifying.
But Makino Juro, controlling it with just one hand—even as his body tilted slightly backward...
His arm didn't budge.
He forcibly halted the dunk.
Terrifying core strength!
"Get… down!!"
Makino Juro barked, snapping his wrist downward.
BANG!
Uozumi—ball and all—was slammed to the ground once again.
The sheer force sent him sliding two meters across the floor, leaving a long skid mark behind.
BEEP!
The whistle rang out again.
"Red No. 16! Shooting foul!"
Makino Juro landed, shaking his slightly numb palm, glancing at the referee without arguing.
That block earlier—
Yeah, he definitely got some hand.
"Ha… ha…"
Uozumi lay on the ground, gasping, eyes unfocused.
It hurt.
He'd failed again.
But when he saw the referee's signal, a strange smile crept onto his face.
"Free throws… again."
He got up, a sly glint flashing in his eyes.
"That's right. This is the solution I came up with."
"If I can't score inside… then I'll grind you down with free throws!"
"I refuse to believe I can't make them!"
With renewed confidence, Uozumi stepped onto the line.
This was the easiest way to score.
A gift from the rules themselves.
A free point.
However..
The moment he settled in and prepared to receive the ball—
The corner of his eye caught something familiar.
Something terrifying.
Makino Juro.
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Once again, they stood on either side of the lane.
Grinning at him.
In that instant.
A chill shot up Uozumi's spine, straight to his skull, like he'd been thrown into an ice cellar.
"—Hiss!"
His entire body went cold, goosebumps rising everywhere.
It felt like two demons had locked onto him.
His sanity meter plummeted.
"These two… are they devils?!"
His hands began to tremble uncontrollably—like he was about to develop Parkinson's.
Under the crushing psychological pressure, the hoop in front of him seemed to morph into a black hole, ready to swallow him whole.
"D-don't look at me!!"
He screamed inwardly, panicking as he flung the ball.
CLANG!
The first shot slammed into the side of the backboard and bounced away.
Juro and Sakuragi exchanged a glance, their smiles widening.
Their eyes practically said:
"See? Told you."
That silent mockery hit harder than any trash talk.
Pure emotional damage.
Uozumi's mind shattered completely.
When he received the second ball, it felt as heavy as lead.
A weight his life couldn't bear.
"Just… end this…"
He closed his eyes and threw the ball.
CLANG!
It struck the front rim.
Both free throws—missed.
Four attempts.
Zero points.
"The rebound is mine!!"
Sakuragi roared, leaping high and effortlessly grabbing the board right over the mentally broken Uozumi.
"Fast break!!"
As soon as he landed, Sakuragi flung the ball to Miyagi, who had already taken off.
Left behind—
Was Uozumi, standing at the free-throw line, frozen, questioning his entire existence.
And on the sidelines.
Coach Taoka, clutching his head, face ashen.
"It's over…"
He slumped into his seat, eyes lifeless.
"Uozumi's mentality… is completely shattered."
In the infirmary.
The sharp smell of disinfectant stung the nose.
"No! Absolutely not! This isn't up for discussion!"
The gray-haired doctor was furious, his beard trembling as he firmly held down Takenori Akagi's leg.
"You're lucky your ligament isn't torn, but with soft tissue damage like this, you still want to go back out there?"
"Planning to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair?!"
Akagi sat on the bed, cold sweat running down his temples.
From pain—
And from urgency.
His left ankle was wrapped in thick ice packs.
Every heartbeat felt like a hammer smashing into his ankle.
Suddenly, he grabbed the doctor's coat, veins bulging on the back of his hand, his gaze fierce enough to devour someone whole.
"I have to go."
"Even if this leg is ruined on the court—I'll finish this game."
His voice rumbled like thunder rolling through his chest.
"You lunatic! Do all you basketball players have cement in your brains?!" the doctor snapped, stomping his foot in frustration.
"Akagi-senpai…"
Ayako stood to the side, wanting to persuade him, but unable to find the words.
Akagi's face twisted slightly from the pain.
But that stubborn determination—
Not even nine oxen could drag it away.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the piercing agony in his ankle.
"You don't understand."
"That guy Uozumi… he's a beast."
"If I'm not on the court, you expect Sakuragi—that amateur—to handle him?"
"He'll be devoured alive!"
Akagi slammed his fist against the bed.
"If I don't go back, Shohoku's paint will turn into an ATM!"
"We'll lose!"
"This is the path to conquering the nation."
"I absolutely cannot rest at a time like this!"
END OF CHAPTER
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The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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