On the electronic scoreboard.
16:20.
The glaring red digits burned like fresh blood.
Shohoku trailed by four points.
With Akagi Takenori carried off due to injury, the pressure inside the arena dropped to a suffocating low. A damp, creeping despair seeped into the bones of every Shohoku supporter like cold mist—inescapable, all-pervasive.
All except for one person.
Near midcourt, Makino Juro slowly rolled his ankle.
The roaring crowd, the dull thud of the basketball, the sharp squeal of sneakers—
all of it faded in his ears, receding into a distant blur.
It was as if the world had been muted.
With a single thought—
a translucent blue panel, visible only to him, unfolded across his vision.
[Loading Template: Akashi Seijuro (PG)]
[Compatibility Check in Progress…]
[Current Compatibility: 30%]
[Warning: Compatibility too low. Full form cannot be loaded]
[Currently Available: Second Personality (Tyrant)]
Makino Juro's lips twitched slightly.
Second personality?
That middle-school-syndrome-ridden, victory-obsessed "Heavenly Emperor" Akashi—the one who treated winning like breathing and casually talked about gouging out eyes?
"Tch… troublesome."
[Akashi Seijuro (PG) Template Activated]
[Compatibility: 30% (Current Personality: Tyrant)]
[Skill Activated: Emperor Eye]
[Stamina Consumption Doubled]
[Akashi Seijuro Stats]
[Dribbling 99, Passing 99, Steals 100, Basketball IQ 100]
[Mid-range 95, Three-point 90, Rebounds 75, Blocks 80]
[Strength 75, Speed 96, Stamina 80, Vertical 88]
The next instant—
a cold, tyrannical will surged up from deep within him.
Like a black tide, it washed away his usual lazy demeanor without hesitation.
He didn't even think before using the skill point he had saved.
"Allocate skill point—Akashi Seijuro."
[Congratulations: Skill Acquired — Ankle Breaker]
[Description: In combination with Emperor Eye, uses high-frequency center-of-gravity deception to destroy the opponent's balance system]
BOOM!
A chill shot from his spine straight to his skull.
Makino Juro's eyes snapped open.
Deep within his once-black pupils, a streak of crimson light burst forth.
The world… changed.
Time seemed to slow to a tenth of its normal speed.
Kiyota Nobunaga's heaving chest.
The taut muscle fibers in Maki Shinichi's calves.
The bead of sweat sliding down Miyagi Ryota's temple—
Everything was broken down into raw data, laid bare before his eyes.
This feeling…
Absolute control.
Makino Juro slowly straightened his back.
His previously slouched posture snapped upright in an instant—
like a blade drawn from its sheath, gleaming with a chilling edge.
The laziness was gone.
In its place—an overwhelming, suffocating arrogance.
"Beep!"
The game resumed.
Shohoku ball.
Miyagi Ryota inhaled deeply as he received the inbound pass.
With Akagi gone, the pressure pressed down on the undersized guard like a mountain.
What now?
Let Rukawa Kaede isolate?
Or pass to Mitsui?
At that moment...
a cold, emotionless voice slipped directly into his ears.
"Ryota."
Miyagi jolted and instinctively turned his head.
Two meters beyond the three-point arc—
Makino Juro stood there quietly.
No movement.
No screens.
Not even a proper stance to receive the ball.
He simply stood there…
and extended one hand toward Miyagi.
Palm facing upward.
"Give me the ball."
Not a request.
Not a discussion.
A command.
A summons from a king to his subject.
Miyagi froze.
The half-asleep, dead-fish-eyed Makino Juro he knew—
was gone.
The eyes staring at him now were terrifyingly indifferent, as if looking at an insect.
Gulp.
Miyagi swallowed hard, his scalp tingling.
"What… what's wrong with this guy?"
"Did he take the wrong meds?"
Even as he complained internally, his body betrayed him.
His hands pushed forward.
The ball obediently flew toward Makino Juro.
Smack.
Caught one-handed.
The ball felt weightless in his grip.
"WOOO! Makino Juro's got the ball!!"
In the stands, the "Makino Juro Support Squad" of international students instantly erupted.
"Take them down, Makino Juro!!"
"Show Kainan what you've got!!"
Makino Juro ignored it all.
Holding the ball in one hand, arm hanging loosely, he cast a cold gaze across Kainan's defense.
It was the gaze of a monarch surveying his domain.
"Tch! Quit acting all high and mighty!"
A shout full of youthful fire shattered the tension.
A purple-and-gold figure lunged forward—
Kiyota Nobunaga.
Kainan's rookie ace.
This "wild monkey" clearly had no idea what he was facing.
With Akagi out, this was, in his eyes, the perfect chance to crush Shohoku and make a name for himself.
"I don't care who you are!"
"Even Rukawa Kaede isn't getting past me!"
Kiyota spread his arms wide, lowering his center of gravity.
Like a hunting cheetah, his eyes locked onto the ball, burning with fighting spirit.
"I'm Kainan's ace rookie!"
"The future number one in Kanagawa!"
"Makino Juro! Don't think your lucky shots will work again!"
He barked nonstop, adjusting his footwork, applying pressure.
But...
facing this frenzied defense,
Makino Juro didn't even blink.
To him, Kiyota was nothing more than a grasshopper hopping at his feet.
"Too noisy."
His voice was soft—
yet carried a bone-chilling coldness.
"What did you say?!"
Veins bulged on Kiyota's forehead, fury surging.
"I said—"
Makino Juro moved.
No warning.
No hesitation.
No flashy setup.
He simply dribbled sharply with his right hand.
BOOM!
The ball slammed against the floor like thunder.
As it rebounded, Makino Juro's body tilted slightly left.
"Left?!"
Kiyota's pupils shrank.
His instincts fired instantly—his body shifted right to cut him off.
That was his talent.
Explosive reaction speed on par with Sakuragi Hanamichi.
But...
the moment his weight fully committed—
Makino Juro's eyes blazed like twin suns.
The Emperor Eye—activated.
Every muscle contraction.
Every breath.
Every shift in balance—
all reduced to transparent data.
"Too slow."
With an almost impossible flick of his wrist—
the ball that had gone left was violently pulled back mid-bounce.
A massive crossover.
But it wasn't just a crossover.
It was a calculated execution—
striking the exact moment his opponent's old force had ended and new force had yet to begin.
Makino Juro stepped right.
Just one step.
Yet it was like a sledgehammer—
shattering Kiyota's balance entirely.
"What?!"
Kiyota felt a twisting force surge through his ankle.
His brain screamed stabilize...
but his legs betrayed him.
They tangled together awkwardly—
like twisted rope.
The world spun.
Before thousands of stunned spectators—
the Kainan super rookie...
the explosive "wild monkey"—
his knees buckled.
THUD.
He crashed to the floor—
on both knees.
Right in front of Makino Juro.
Kneeling.
Prostrated.
As if offering a formal bow to a king.
The entire arena....
fell into dead silence.
END OF CHAPTER
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The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
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