"Koichiro! Get up, quick! You're going to be late for school again!" A gentle yet urgent female voice pulled Xu Gou from a deep sleep.
"Huh?" Shin blinked, confused. "How many years has it been since I graduated? What school…?"
Opening his eyes, he saw a beautiful middle-aged woman standing beside the bed, hands on her hips, frowning at him.
"Why bother with him? Just let him be a good-for-nothing! Dyeing his hair blonde, skipping school… what will he become?" A furious male voice boomed from outside the door, shaking the house.
The woman rubbed her forehead helplessly at his words.
Shin—now in the body of Nango Koichiro—quickly understood the situation. "Ah, I'll get up right away, Mom. Please go out first; I need to change."
"Alright, hurry! Don't make your father scold you again!" she said before leaving.
No sooner had she gone than Shin leapt out of bed. The moment his feet touched the floor, his legs nearly gave out.
"Wait… what?!" For someone who had been 178 cm in his old life, the height difference now was startling.
He grabbed a mirror, desperate to see his new reflection.
"Nango Koichiro?! What… what is happening?!" His own reflection left him in shock.
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"Nango, answer the question. How should this problem be solved?"
"Ah… I'm sorry, Teacher. I don't know," Nango said, scratching his head with a sheepish expression.
"Sigh… sit down and pay attention. You're already in your third year of junior high, don't keep spacing out." The teacher's frustration was clear—Nango was physically present but mentally elsewhere.
"Understood, thank you, Teacher."
After settling into his seat, Nango glanced around. The classroom felt familiar: students fully immersed in their studies, and a few slackers like him trailing behind.
"No, scratch that. 'Behind in studies' sounds better than 'slacker,'" he muttered to himself.
But labels didn't matter. His real question lingered:
"How did I end up in Japan in 1993? What kind of prank is this?"
The school day finally ended. Nango packed his things and wandered through the crowd, pondering his next move.
Transmigrating into the world of Slam Dunk didn't automatically mean he wanted to play basketball.
Was there a future in it? Betting everything on basketball seemed unwise. Perhaps working hard to get into Tokyo University would be a smarter path. In his previous life, he had chased basketball; this time, practicality seemed safer.
"Thump!" A basketball struck him on the head, snapping him from his thoughts.
"Nango? Are you okay?" A small, timid boy asked. Nango recognized him as Masanori Kumaji, a classmate.
Kumaji's nervousness was obvious; perhaps Nango's notorious reputation preceded him. Nango picked up the ball, his massive hands able to grip it like a toy.
"…Nango?" Kumaji hesitated. "Are you going to extort us?"
Shaking off the thought, Nango handed it back. "I'm fine. Here, take it."
Kumaji reached for the ball, only for Nango to pull it back. Confused, Kumaji asked, "Are you playing with me?"
"Actually… want to play together?" Nango said suddenly, his tone apologetic yet firm.
"Huh?" Kumaji blinked in surprise.
Even if he didn't ultimately choose basketball, Nango wanted to test his skills. Besides, he had no clear path for the future yet, so a little basketball could be relaxing.
"We were eight players, so with you, we'll do three teams of 3-on-3," Nango explained.
After a quick division, Nango found himself with two others—both silently cursing their luck at having to share the court with him.
The game began. His teammates immediately passed him the ball near the free-throw line.
Peak System activated.
Mission: Win the game.
Reward: None.
Penalty: System shutdown.
A cold, electronic voice echoed in Nango's mind.
"Peak System… is this… why I came here? To chase this dream?" he muttered.
The thought passed quickly. Nango's focus returned to the court. Dribbling the ball with fluid precision, he swayed and faked, testing the defender. His posture was elegant, his movements skilled.
Kumaji's thoughts betrayed his surprise: "If he plays this well… why haven't I ever seen him play before?"
Meanwhile, Nango's teammates were both relieved and intimidated.
Suddenly, Nango faked left, stepped right, and shook the defender completely. Grabbing the ball with one hand, he soared to the hoop and slammed it down in a thunderous two-handed dunk.
Thump! The ball bounced repeatedly, rolling away.
The entire court was frozen. Third-year junior high students in Japan rarely dunked—let alone with such force.
Nango stared at his slightly reddened hands, savoring the thrill.
"If that's the feeling… then I'll chase my dream once more!" He looked up at the trembling hoop, determination sparking in his eyes.