On the Kainan bench.
Takato Riki's folding fan stopped mid-sway.
His narrowed eyes locked onto Sakuragi on the court.
"…Unbelievable."
He muttered under his breath.
"That kind of impact… a normal person would be down for at least five minutes."
"That number 10… he just recovered instantly?"
"In terms of raw physical ability and recovery… even Maki might not be able to suppress this rookie who's only trained for three months."
Takato resumed fanning himself—but noticeably faster this time.
"And that Juro is a freak too. Took a hit like that and didn't even break a bone…"
"What are these Shohoku guys made of?"
…
The game resumed.
Possession still belonged to Shohoku.
Sakuragi, fired up like a berserk war god, fought wildly for position in the paint.
"Pass it to this genius!!"
Miyagi lofted a high pass.
Sakuragi exploded upward from a standstill—his terrifying vertical igniting the entire arena once again. He outleapt Takasago Kazuma and snatched the ball one-handed like plucking fruit from a tree.
"Alright! Watch this genius lay it in!"
But just as he landed and turned—
A mountain-like pressure crashed down on him.
A towering figure stood directly in his path.
Dark skin. Hardened features. And that suffocating aura of absolute authority.
Maki Shinichi.
"I'll guard number 10."
His voice wasn't loud, but it rippled across the court like a stone dropped into still water.
The arena erupted.
"Did I hear that right? Maki is guarding Sakuragi?!"
"Kanagawa's number one… defending that rookie?!"
"Maki's taking this seriously… he's paying more attention to Sakuragi than even Rukawa?!"
On the court.
Sakuragi held the ball, showing no fear.
Instead, he frowned and leaned in, inspecting Maki's face up close.
Eye to eye.
Maki frowned slightly, preparing for a drive.
Then...
Sakuragi spoke, his tone filled with genuine confusion:
"Hey… old man, how old are you?"
"..."
Silence.
Maki's ever-stoic expression visibly twitched.
But as a battle-hardened king, he took a deep breath and replied steadily:
"I'm a high school student…"
"Huh?!"
Sakuragi reacted like he'd just heard the biggest joke in the world. He pointed at Maki's nose and turned to shout at Kiyota Nobunaga:
"Hey! Wild monkey! Your team is shady as hell!"
"If you can't beat this genius, fine—but how can you bring in a ringer?!"
"And one that looks like a school dean?!"
Kiyota, who had been guarding Mitsui, nearly choked on air.
Furious, he exploded:
"What nonsense are you spouting, you red-haired idiot?!"
He pointed at Maki and roared:
"That's our captain, Maki!"
"He's a genuine third-year!"
"He's 17!!"
"Seventeen, damn it!!"
That shout carried both fierce loyalty—and a strange hint of heartbreak.
Sakuragi's eyes widened.
He turned back, carefully re-examining Maki's weathered face.
Then whipped around and shouted again:
"Seventeen? Who are you kidding?!"
"Look at that face! Does that look like 17?!"
"People would believe you if you said he's 37!"
"And those nasolabial folds—how dare you call him a high schooler?!"
"Pfft"
On the Shohoku bench, Makino Juro—who had just recovered—couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.
Even with his whole body aching, he wasn't about to miss this legendary scene.
"Nice one, Sakuragi…"
"That's real damage right there—true damage, ignores all defense."
Clutching his stomach, Juro laughed until tears streamed down his face.
On the court, a vein popped on Maki's forehead.
No matter how steady his mentality was, being publicly roasted about his wrinkles in front of thousands dealt critical psychological damage.
"Enough!!" Kiyota stomped in fury.
"You're just jealous!"
"This is the charm of a mature man!"
"What would a childish red-haired monkey like you know?!"
"Who are you calling a monkey?! You wild animal!"
"You're the wild animal! You're a red-haired orangutan!"
Just as the two were about to escalate into a full-blown brawl—
Tweet! Tweet!!
The referee rushed over with a dark expression.
"No chatting during the game!"
"Especially you two number 10s—behave yourselves!"
"And also…"
He glanced at Maki, whose face had turned dark, and—unexpectedly—there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
"Number 4, control your emotions too."
Maki: "..."
I didn't even say anything!
I'm the victim here!
…
The heavy doors of the gym swung open.
Aida Yayoi pushed her way inside, completely disregarding her image, panting heavily.
"What's the situation?!"
As she hurriedly adjusted her disheveled outfit, her eyes swept across the court.
The moment her gaze landed on the action—her breath caught.
Kainan's number 4—the man known as the "Emperor."
Maki Shinichi.
He stood like an unshakable black mountain, completely sealing off Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Maki lowered his center of gravity, arms spread wide like wings.
There wasn't a trace of underestimating a rookie in his eyes—only the cold focus of a top predator locking onto its prey.
"My god…"
Aida Yayoi's fingers trembled.
"That proud Maki… is going all out against a first-year right from the start?"
Even Sendoh Akira only received this suffocating defensive treatment in the second half last year.
The pressure on the court became overwhelming.
"Hey, middle-aged man!"
"Don't block this genius's path!!"
Sakuragi roared, trying to hype himself up.
The ball slammed against the floor.
His body coiled like a drawn bow—
Then exploded forward.
It had to be said—Makino Juro's brutal training had paid off.
Sakuragi's first step was so explosive it kicked up wind, making even Kiyota at the sidelines gasp:
"So fast!"
But in Maki's eyes...
This drive, though fierce, was riddled with flaws.
"Too green."
He scoffed inwardly, sliding his feet with perfect precision.
Just half a step sideways—
And he became an immovable iron gate, completely sealing off every attacking lane.
Bang!
Two powerful bodies collided without any finesse.
Sakuragi gritted his teeth.
If he couldn't get past—then he'd force it!
Even off-balance, he relied on pure instinct to leap, twisting awkwardly as he threw the ball toward the hoop.
"Commoner layup!!"
"Naive!"
A thunderous shout exploded.
Maki jumped almost simultaneously from behind.
Though slightly lower in height, his timing was flawless.
At the very instant the ball left Sakuragi's fingertips—
A massive hand, packed with unstoppable force, came crashing down.
SMACK!!!
The crisp sound of the block echoed through the entire arena.
The ball slammed against the backboard and bounced high into the air.
"Rebound!!"
Akagi Takenori roared like thunder.
He had already secured position in the paint, his back like a steel wall pinning Takasago Kazuma behind him.
With a powerful push of his legs, his massive frame soared upward.
In his eyes, there was only that orange ball.
That was Shohoku's lifeline—the foundation of their dream to conquer the nation.
Takasago, shaken by the overwhelming presence, reacted half a beat too slow—
And could only watch as Akagi grabbed the rebound with both hands.
"Nice one, Gorilla!!" Sakuragi pumped his fist excitedly after landing.
But...
Change often strikes at the moment of greatest relief.
As Akagi came down with the rebound, his body tilted slightly from the physical contact.
His left foot—
Unluckily...
Stepped directly onto Takasago Kazuma's foot, which had just landed.
END OF CHAPTER
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