Chapter 237: Maximum Trash Talk Before the Game
The Toyotama stands erupted.
"Holy shit! Who's that?"
"That red-haired monk!"
"What an obnoxious head!"
"And that No. 10! His eyes are begging to get punched!"
The jeers rose from every direction. Hundreds of middle fingers pointed toward Sakuragi, forming some bizarre forest of raised hands.
"Kishimoto!!"
Someone started shouting:
"Give that No. 10 a taste of our hospitality!"
"Kill that red-haired freak!"
On the court, Minori Kishimoto stopped warming up.
He tossed his ponytail back and narrowed his eyes, locking onto the red-haired bald head.
"Hmph."
Kishimoto sneered as he rolled his neck, the joints cracking sharply.
"Save your breath. I've wanted to tear that redhead apart from the moment I saw him."
Especially that look.
That look as if he were staring at a piece of garbage.
"I'll make him regret being born into this world."
Up in the stands, Nozomi Takamiya slapped his thigh in gleeful anticipation.
"Whoa! Hanamichi just unlocked the 'Public Enemy No. 1' achievement!"
"He hasn't even played yet, and everyone's already targeting him. That's our troublemaker for you."
Yohei Mito could only shrug helplessly.
"Can't blame them. His head is way too flashy."
"Under the spotlight, he's basically a walking human light bulb. There's no way he's staying low-key."
On the court.
The Shohoku players were stretching.
Despite the hostile atmosphere, everyone was surprisingly calm.
Ryota Miyagi pressed down on his leg and elbowed Sakuragi.
"Hey, Hanamichi. You're pretty popular."
"The entire arena is chanting your name, even if they're mostly cursing your entire family."
Hisashi Mitsui adjusted his wristband and couldn't help laughing.
"Maybe they're just jealous that your hairstyle is more cutting-edge than theirs."
But unlike usual, Sakuragi Hanamichi didn't explode at the teasing.
Instead, he suddenly stopped moving and rubbed his chin.
His brows furrowed.
His eyes became so deep and serious that he looked like he was contemplating the origin of the universe.
"Hmm…"
After a moment of profound contemplation, Sakuragi suddenly wore an expression of enlightenment.
He lowered his voice and spoke with complete seriousness.
"I get it."
"They're trying to put psychological pressure on me, the ace, aren't they?"
The air froze for three seconds.
Akagi's hand stopped halfway through tying his shoelace.
Rukawa rolled his eyes and turned away to grab a basketball.
Makino Juro was drinking water and nearly sprayed it all over the floor.
The entire Shohoku team simultaneously threw a barrage of death stares at Sakuragi.
"Who's the ace?"
"Who exactly are you talking about?"
"Could you have at least a little shame?"
Miyagi covered his forehead and sighed.
"Is your brain even made of carbon-based life-form material?"
Sakuragi completely ignored them.
He firmly believed in his own conclusion.
This was enemy psychological warfare!
They wanted to break the genius Sakuragi's mental defenses with their jeers?
How naive!
Sakuragi abruptly turned around and faced the Toyotama half of the court.
There, Minori Kishimoto was glaring at him with a dark expression.
Their eyes met.
Sparks flew.
Sakuragi suddenly raised his right hand and waved at Kishimoto with an utterly arrogant gesture.
It looked almost like he was calling over a stray dog.
"Hey! You, the guy with the ponytail!"
His voice boomed across the entire arena.
The entire gym instantly fell silent.
Kishimoto froze.
He looked behind himself to make sure there wasn't someone else standing there.
Then he pointed at his own nose.
"...Me?"
This red-haired monkey was calling him?
Sakuragi's lips curled into a grin, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth.
The smile was arrogant, infuriating, and overflowing with provocation.
"You want to guard me, the genius?"
Sakuragi pointed at his own bald head, then at Kishimoto.
"Then you'd better give it everything you've got."
"You'll never beat the genius with those amateurish tricks of yours."
He paused.
Then Sakuragi shrugged and delivered the finishing blow in a tone of utter contempt, as if he were looking down at an insignificant insect.
"But…"
"No matter how hard you try, it'll be useless."
"Because the world of geniuses…"
"...is something ordinary people can never understand."
BOOM!!!
Those words were like a nuclear bomb dropped straight into Toyotama's powder keg.
Kishimoto's face instantly turned beet red. The veins on his forehead bulged like writhing earthworms.
"You bastard!!"
Kishimoto roared and charged forward.
If the referee hadn't immediately stepped between them, the game might have turned into a full-blown brawl before it had even started.
"You looking to die?! Red-haired freak!"
"I'll kill you!!"
The stands erupted into complete chaos.
"Too damn arrogant! Kill him!"
"Kishimoto! Tear him apart!"
The entire gym had become a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding.
Makino Juro stood nearby, watching the scene unfold.
He couldn't help shaking his head with a sigh.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
"When it comes to drawing aggro, nobody beats Sakuragi."
"That taunt skill is definitely maxed out."
That natural ability to become the team's ultimate damage magnet was practically made for moments like this.
Up in the stands, the Sakuragi Gang was laughing so hard they could barely stand.
Nozomi Takamiya slapped the railing, cackling like a goose.
"Wahahaha! That idiot Hanamichi! He's pouring gasoline straight onto the fire!"
"This is too damn good! Look at that ponytail! His face is turning green!"
Yuji Ohkusu was just as excited.
"Now that's more like it!"
Just as the confrontation reached its boiling point...
Another group entered through the passage at the back of the stands.
They wore purple-and-gold uniforms.
A group of giants.
The kings of Kanagawa had arrived.
Kainan University Affiliated High School.
Soichiro Jin held a drink as he surveyed the boiling arena, a gentle smile on his face.
"Good. Looks like we didn't miss anything interesting."
Shinichi Maki walked at the front, his dark uniform draped over his shoulders like an emperor's cloak.
He checked his watch and spoke calmly.
"We made it just in time. Kiyota, find us some seats."
Nobunaga Kiyota shot off like a monkey.
"Yes, Maki-san!"
However, the moment Maki sat down, his brows immediately knitted into a deep frown.
The killing intent in the surrounding air was simply too intense.
All he could hear were things like:
"Chop him up and feed him to the dogs!"
"Kill him!"
Some spectators were even making throat-slitting gestures toward the court.
Was this really the National Tournament?
It looked more like the Colosseum in ancient Rome.
Except this version apparently allowed everyone to bring knives.
Maki froze.
Even the veteran king of Kanagawa, a man who had seen countless high-stakes games, was completely bewildered.
He turned toward the court and looked at the red-haired bald kid standing there with his hands on his hips, wearing an unbearably smug expression.
Then he looked at the Toyotama players, who looked ready to suffer a collective cerebral hemorrhage.
"This…"
The corner of Maki's mouth twitched.
His eyes were filled with confusion.
"Something's not right with the atmosphere."
"What happened?"
"The game hasn't even started. Why does it feel like these guys have already sworn vengeance for a murdered father?"
Nobunaga Kiyota's mouth hung open as he pointed toward the court.
"Th-that red-haired monkey?"
"What the hell did he do?"
"How did he get the entire Toyotama crowd to want him dead?!"
At center court.
"WHEEEEEEP!!"
The referee blew his whistle.
The sharp sound barely managed to cut through the waves of abuse echoing throughout the arena.
"Both teams, line up!"
Takenori Akagi took a deep breath, his gaze hard as iron.
He patted Sakuragi on the shoulder and spoke in a deep voice.
"Had enough?"
"If you're done, then play properly."
Sakuragi grinned.
The fighting spirit in his eyes was burning at full intensity.
"Of course, Gorilla."
"This was just the warm-up."
Makino Juro leisurely made his way toward the center circle.
He glanced up at the spectators screaming themselves hoarse.
Then he looked at Kishimoto and Tsuyoshi Minami, both radiating murderous intent from across the court.
The corners of his mouth slowly curled upward.
A cruel smile appeared on his face.
It was almost as if his expression were saying:
Welcome to my game.
"Keep shouting."
Makino Juro's voice was quiet, yet carried a chilling menace.
"While you can still shout."
"Because soon…"
"...you'd better not cry too damn ugly."
END OF CHAPTER
The King Of Slacking Off - MrBehringer's Secret
👉 /MrBehringer