"Bang!"
The basketball slammed violently against the rim, ricocheting away before hitting the hardwood with a heavy, hollow thud. It was immediately drowned out by the rhythmic screech of sneakers and the feral roars of teenagers possessing an inexhaustible supply of energy. "One more!" "Get back on defense! Hustle!" Inside the Shohoku High gym, the air was a thick, humid soup of evaporated sweat—a scent the locals called "youth and passion."
But in a shadowed corner of the gym, a "corpse" draped in a white towel was staging a silent protest. A single hand drifted out from under the fabric, feebly grasping at the air as if searching for a non-existent mute button. "So noisy..." a muffled, sleep-deprived voice grumbled. "Are these freshmen or over-caffeinated Huskies? Don't they ever nap?"
Snap!
A folding fan sliced through the air, cracking sharply against the flailing hand. "Ow!" The "corpse" bolted upright. Hayashi Rin ripped the towel off, revealing a face handsome enough to set the school's entire female population screaming. However, at this moment, those dead fish eyes were filled only with a profound despair for the world. Standing over him was Ayako, her hands on her hips, her curly hair spilling over the brim of her backwards baseball cap.
"Hayashi Rin! It's the first day of club! Everyone else is dying to impress the seniors, and you've been 'dead' for exactly forty-five minutes!"
"Correction, Ayako-senpai: it was forty-three minutes," Rin muttered, rubbing his hand and letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. "And I wasn't sleeping. I was performing 'Static Physical Recovery Training.'"
Ayako let out a sharp, frustrated laugh. "You even make slacking off sound refined. Does Captain Akagi know about your 'training'?" At the mention of Akagi, Rin's neck instinctively shrank. He slumped back onto the bench into a perfect "Ge You Slump"—the ultimate posture of total spinal collapse—and stared blankly at the ceiling. "Senpai, it's a universal truth: standing is worse than sitting, and sitting is worse than lying down. Since I'm already down, I might as well sleep."
Hayashi Rin carried a secret: he was a transmigrator. In his past life, he was a corporate slave. He had finally dropped dead at his desk at 3:00 AM while finishing a PowerPoint. When he woke up, he was in 90s Kanagawa, the son of a wealthy family with a monthly allowance that made his head spin. His goal for this life was simple: No overtime. No hard work. Just pure, unadulterated laziness.
However, fate had a twisted sense of humor.
[Ding! Host detected at Shohoku High Gym. 'Miracle Basketball System' is online.] [Current Slacking Duration: 45 minutes. Slacking Points earned: 45.] [Warning: If Shohoku fails to reach the Nationals, butterfly wings will cause your father's investments to fail. You will go bankrupt and be forced to wash dishes for a living...]
For the sake of my lavish lifestyle... life is too hard, Rin thought, closing his eyes in mock agony.
"I AM THE GENIUS SAKURAGI HANAMICHI!" A deafening roar shattered Rin's peace. At the gym entrance, a redhead with a fiery pompadour was posturing like a peacock in heat. Across the court, the icy Rukawa Kaede stopped his dribble just long enough to mutter a single word: "Idiot."
"Assemble!" A roar like localized thunder exploded. Akagi Takenori, the "Gori" of Shohoku, loomed over the court like a moving fortress. His searchlight eyes immediately locked onto the squirming towel in the corner. "Hayashi Rin! Do I need to send an invitation for you to stand up?"
The towel vanished. In a blur of motion, Rin was suddenly standing at a perfect military attention, a professional "customer service" smile plastered on his face. "Reporting for duty, Captain! Thank you for your hard work, Captain!"
The other freshmen stared. This guy's a pro at faking it, they thought in unison.
"The test is simple," Akagi growled, ignoring Rin's theatrics. "Freshmen versus Seniors. I want to see your skill... and your attitude."
"Captain," Rin raised a hand with a look of profound sincerity. "I suddenly feel dizzy, tight-chested, and have severe leg cramps. Possibly low blood sugar. Can I apply to be the lead cheerleader?"
"Denied. If you slack off on court, I'll double your training."
The game began. First-years: Rukawa, Sakuragi, and the "forced-labor" Rin. Seniors: Akagi, Kogure, and the others. As the whistle blew, Rin jogged back on defense with the speed of an elderly man mall-walking in the park. As long as I don't touch the ball, the ball won't find me, he chanted internally.
[Passive Skill: Misdirection (Kuroko Tetsuya) Activated.]
Instantly, Rin's aura vanished. Even though he was standing right outside the three-point line, both the offense and defense subconsciously looked right through him. He was a ghost. The game was a mess. Rukawa was a lone wolf, getting blocked by Akagi. Sakuragi was a headless fly, racking up traveling violations. The score was 20-8 for the seniors. Rin stood in the corner with his hands in his pockets. Young people... so impulsive. Why not play 'Health-Preserving' basketball like me?
But then, Rukawa got trapped in a double-team by Akagi and Kogure. With no air to breathe, Rukawa's eyes desperately scanned the court. Wait... since when was there a guy in the corner?
Whoosh!
The ball was fired like a cannonball toward the corner. Rin, who had been mid-yawn, felt a gust of wind. His hands reacted instinctively. Thwack. The Misdirection shattered. Every eye in the gym snapped to the "lazy bum."
"Hayashi Rin! Shoot!" Akagi roared from under the paint. "Don't tell me you don't even know where the hoop is!"
The senior defender, Shiozaki, scrambled to close the gap. Rin sighed. If he missed, Akagi would make his life a living hell. If he didn't shoot, he'd be doing laps until midnight. What a pain...
In an instant, his slouch vanished. His body coiled like a cheetah. A flash of blue electricity flickered in his dead fish eyes.
[Active Skill: Formless Shot (Aomine Daiki) Activated.]
Without adjusting his feet or squaring his shoulders, Rin leaned back at an absurd 45-degree angle—a suicidal posture for any normal shooter. "What is he doing?!" Ayako screamed. With a flick of his wrist, the ball drew a mountain-high arc, soaring over Shiozaki's reach and Akagi's head. Rin didn't even stay to watch. He turned his back to the hoop and started walking toward the bench.
Swish.
The net snapped with a crisp, perfect sound. The gym fell into a deathly silence.
"Captain," Rin's lazy voice drifted over his shoulder. "I scored. Does that meet my exercise quota? I really need to catch up on that nap."