"So."
"Letting you sit isn't a punishment. It's so you can watch what real defense looks like."
"So you don't go out there and embarrass yourself—and drag the whole team down with you."
Rukawa Kaede delivered the final, merciless blow.
"Damn you, Rukawa!"
"Who are you calling an embarrassment?!"
Sakuragi Hanamichi rolled up his sleeves, ready to throw hands on the spot.
But a massive hand came down on his head—like pinning a raging monkey in place.
"Enough! Shut it!"
Akagi Takenori roared, his voice shaking the floor itself.
Then he looked at Sakuragi, his tone firm and serious.
"Sakuragi, the coach isn't benching you because you're useless. He wants you to learn—from the sidelines."
"Learn?" Sakuragi bristled, still unconvinced.
"That's right. Watch how Makino Juro handles this."
Coach Anzai set down his teacup, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
"Sakuragi-kun, your physical talent is top-tier. But your technique isn't there yet."
"Sit. Watch how Juro deals with this situation."
"It'll help you ten thousand times more than running around like a headless fly on the court."
Sakuragi clenched his teeth, fists cracking.
A thousand curses rampaged through his mind—
But under Coach Anzai's unquestionable gaze… and Akagi's ever-ready iron fist…
He endured.
"Damn it… fine, I'll watch!"
He plopped down on the bench, fuming, glaring at Makino Juro.
Makino Juro stood up, rolling his neck with a crisp crack.
He walked over, looking down at the red-haired boy whose face screamed "I'm not happy."
A lazy smile tugged at his lips.
He reached out—
Smack.
Gave Sakuragi's head a casual pat.
…Nice feel.
"Relax."
Makino Juro's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority.
"That kind of hide-and-seek, pick-and-roll trick?"
"In front of absolute strength…"
He turned, waving a hand as he walked toward the tunnel, his back oddly cool.
"…it's like a soda can."
"Crush it once—and it's done."
"Watch closely. I'll show you how it's really done."
Beeep!
The whistle for the second half sounded.
The moment Makino Juro took off his jacket and stepped onto the court in Shohoku's red jersey—
The entire arena seemed to have its throat seized.
The noise… cut off.
On Ryonan's side, Taoka Moichi had been basking in the success of his tactics.
But the instant he saw that figure—
His smile froze.
"Makino Juro…"
His pupils shrank. His heart skipped a beat.
That guy who had been slacking off, coasting—
Yet always delivering the killing blow at the crucial moment…
Was he finally getting serious?
"Fukuda!"
Taoka suddenly shouted onto the court, his voice almost cracking.
Fukuda Kicchou turned, his eyes still glowing with hunger.
"Watch out for that guy!"
"Don't be fooled by how he looks!"
"That bastard… is even more dangerous than Sendoh!" Taoka pointed straight at Makino Juro.
Fukuda paused, then looked over.
Makino Juro seemed to sense it. He turned his head—
And gave him a bright, dazzling smile.
There was no killing intent in it.
Only casual disdain.
Like looking at a kid still playing in the mud.
Fukuda's heart clenched.
A chill shot up his spine.
The instinct of prey meeting a natural predator.
"Alright. Second half."
"Let's finish this quickly."
"System—load template: Aomine Daiki."
He issued the command in his mind.
A surge of azure data flooded his vision.
[Loading Template: Aomine Daiki (Generation of Miracles · Ace)]
[Skill Activated: Formless Shot, Ultra-Speed Dribble]
[Stamina Consumption: Doubled]
[Current Stamina: 70]
Boom!
A scorching current exploded through his body, racing from spine to limbs.
It felt… incredible.
His previously heavy body became impossibly light.
His senses sharpened to the extreme.
The roaring crowd stretched… slowed…
Even the smell of sweat and rubber in the air made his scalp tingle with excitement.
Makino Juro grinned, baring white teeth.
There was something feral in that smile.
His blood was burning—
The instinct of a beast ready to tear its prey apart.
"Haa…"
He exhaled.
And in that instant—
The laziness in his eyes vanished.
Replaced by a bottomless darkness…
And suffocating aggression.
He stepped onto the court.
Every step felt like it was pressing down on the opponent's nerves.
As he passed Rukawa Kaede, he paused.
Tilting his head, his tone teasing—almost annoying.
"Hey, expressionless fox."
Rukawa shot him a cold glance, dead eyes unshaken.
"What?"
"That hedgehog over there…"
Makino Juro jerked his chin toward Sendoh Akira.
"Want me to guard him for you?"
"You looked pretty worn out in the first half. I'm worried about you."
Rukawa's eye twitched.
"Get lost."
One word. Ice-cold.
He didn't even look at Makino Juro again—walking straight toward Sendoh, lowering his stance.
Ready to go all-out.
That was his prey.
Anyone who touched it would have to answer to him.
"Tch. Ungrateful."
Makino Juro shrugged, turning away without a care.
If you want to keep your toy—
Then I'll go play with this "wild dog."
His gaze locked onto Fukuda Kicchou.
Fukuda was breathing heavily.
Those eyes—hungry for recognition, for validation—burned with almost pathological intensity.
The moment Makino Juro's gaze landed on him—
Fukuda's muscles tensed instinctively.
Like a field mouse spotted by an apex predator.
In the stands—Kainan's section.
Kiyota Nobunaga leaned over the railing, clicking his tongue in annoyance.
"Tch, that Makino Juro finally decided to move?"
"What's with all the mystery? It's just one-on-one defense."
He turned to Maki Shinichi, wearing the confident grin of a "super rookie."
"Senpai, if it were me, I'd handle that defense easily."
Maki crossed his arms, his gaze deep as the ocean. He raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Oh? And how would you defend?"
Kiyota lit up immediately, straightening, gesturing enthusiastically.
"Isn't it obvious?! First!"
He dropped low, arms spread wide like a crab.
"Lower your center of gravity—cut off the path!"
"Then!"
He tapped his head proudly.
"Use my beast-like instincts!"
"As soon as he moves, my body reacts faster than my brain!"
"That's the genius way to defend!"
He even flicked his hair, already imagining himself delivering a monstrous block.
Beside him, Coach Takato gently fanned himself, smiling without a word.
"You're wrong, Kiyota."
Maki shook his head, his voice calm—but absolute.
"Nani?!"
Kiyota's eyes widened. "I'm wrong? Isn't defense all about reaction?"
"Relying purely on instinct…"
Maki's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…is gambling."
END OF CHAPTER
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