Kuroko's Basketball Template: Shohoku's Strongest Sixth Man Chapter 78: Genius-Level Accelerated Pass!

"RAAAGH!!"

With a thunderous roar, Uozumi Jun slamd his weight backward, using sheer mass to force space.

Borrowing that montum, he spun and raised the ball high with both hands—ready to crush the rim with a brute-force dunk!

"Dream on!"

Akagi Takenori didn't give an inch. Like a true powerhouse, he stood his ground.

A pair of gorilla-like hands blotted out the sky as they ca crashing down.

BANG!

Muscle collided with muscle. The ball smashed hard against the front of the rim and ricocheted high into the air.

"Rebound!!"

In that instant, the paint turned into a at grinder.

Uozumi and Akagi leapt again at the sa ti.

Four massive arms tangled midair like prehistoric beasts fighting over prey, blotting out the light beneath the hoop.

Just when everyone thought the rebound would belong to one of them—

"RAAAAHHH!!!"

A red figure exploded out of the shadows without warning!

What kind of monstrous leap was that?!

Sakuragi Hanamichi shot upward like he had rockets strapped to his feet—late to jump, yet first to arrive.

That blazing red hair surged past even Uozumi and Akagi's reach.

His body stretched in midair, core tightened like a drawn bow—

And with both hands like iron clamps, he snatched the ball cleanly from above their heads!

"What?!" Uozumi's pupils trembled.

"Nani?!" Even Akagi froze.

The entire arena erupted.

"Holy—did No. 10 just fly?!"

"He grabbed that over Akagi and Uozumi?! That's not human!"

In the stands, Akagi Haruko covered her mouth, eyes shimring with tears.

"Sakuragi-kun! That was amazing!"

"You're the true king of rebounds!"

The mont he landed, Sakuragi didn't even have ti to pose.

Out of the corner of his eye—

A lightning-like figure had already sprinted past midcourt.

"Hanamichi! Over here!!"

Miyagi Ryota roared as he ran, his speed slicing through Ryonan's defense like a blade.

From the stands, Fujima Kenji narrowed his eyes. "So fast!"

Opportunity!

In Sakuragi's mind, a mory flashed—

Makino Juro's lazy yet strangely persuasive voice during training.

'Sakuragi… accelerated passing isn't just passing.'

'Use your palm to strike the ball—like when you smack Takamiya and the others.'

'Release all your force in an instant. The ball will be faster than the air itself.'

Sakuragi grinned wildly.

"Hehehe, Ryota! Catch this!"

Gripping the ball with one hand, his right palm aligned behind it, his eyes gleaming with excitent—

"Take this! The real deal!"

"Genius—Accelerated Pass!!!"

BOOM!!!

A heavy, explosive sound echoed through the arena.

Sakuragi's palm slamd into the ball.

In that instant, it was as if the basketball had been fitted with a jet engine—transforming into a streak of orange light.

It tore through the air with a shrieking whistle.

This wasn't a pass.

It was a launched projectile.

Up ahead, Miyagi turned back, ready to receive—

His smile instantly froze into pure terror.

In his vision, the basketball expanded rapidly—

Fast.

Too fast.

So fast it made his scalp tingle.

"WHAT THE—?!"

Instinct told him to reach out—

Survival instinct told him to duck.

"WHOOSH!!!"

The ball blasted past his ear, the wind pressure stinging his face and blowing his hair completely out of shape.

This was a pass?

This was attempted murder!!

The "projectile," having missed its target, continued its destructive journey straight toward the baseline—

The reporters' section.

"MOVE!!"

Aida Yayoi scread, abandoning all composure as she crouched down and covered her head.

BOOOOM!!!

Like a teor crashing down, the basketball slamd into the press area.

Folding tables flipped instantly.

Several reporters were knocked over along with their chairs before they could even react.

Laptops, cups, notebooks—everything flew into the air.

The scene looked like it had just been hit by a miniature typhoon.

"WHISTLE!!"

The referee's sharp whistle rang out—his voice trembling slightly.

"R-Red team… out of bounds!"

"Ryonan ball!"

Silence.

The entire arena fell into a deathly hush.

Everyone stared at the wrecked press section.

Then slowly turned to look at Sakuragi—

Still holding his "Buddha Palm" pose.

On the bench, Makino Juro quietly pulled up his jacket collar, burying his face.

"…I can't watch this."

"I told you to pass—not to launch a human cannon…"

On the court.

Miyagi stiffly turned his neck.

He looked at the still-rolling basketball.

Veins bulged on his forehead—rage born from surviving a near-death experience.

The next second—

He teleported back.

BAM!

A rciless flying kick landed square on Sakuragi's backside.

"OW OW OW!!"

"Ryota! Why'd you kick this genius?!"

"I passed it so fast!"

Sakuragi jumped three feet into the air, clutching his butt, face full of grievance.

"You've got the nerve to say that?!"

Miyagi exploded, pointing at the devastated press section, practically spitting fire:

"Who the hell could catch that?!"

"Are you trying to kill and inherit Ayako?!"

"That's not a pass!!"

"We finally got a fast-break chance, and you just wasted it, you idiot!!"

Sakuragi puffed up his chest, completely unapologetic:

"That's because you mortals don't understand art!"

"That was a genius-level accelerated pass! You're just too slow!"

Watching the two clowns about to start fighting again, Coach Taoka wiped the sweat from his forehead, heart barely holding together.

"These Shohoku guys…"

"Are they here to play basketball… or demolish the arena?"

…

The reporters' section looked like it had been ravaged by a storm.

A few bespectacled reporters cautiously peeked out from under overturned tables.

Their eyes locked onto the basketball wedged between two folding chairs—still spinning faintly.

They swallowed hard.

"If that hit soone's head… best case, it's a concussion…"

Aida Yayoi patted her chest, forcing herself to straighten her wrinkled outfit.

Looking at the red-haired "culprit" on the court, her eyelids twitched.

Thankfully… aside from a few laptops needing ergency rescue—

There were no casualties.

Back on the court.

Sakuragi still held his palm-out pose, frowning deeply.

He stared at his large hand, utterly baffled.

"Mmm… strange…"

"This is exactly how Master taught …"

"Gather the power in your palm, then boom—push it out, like opening a heavy door…"

He scratched his red hair, glanced at the furious Miyagi in the distance, and muttered under his breath:

"The force was fine… the angle was fine…"

"It must be Ryota's fault for having short legs and running too slow."

"Yeah. That's definitely it."

After all—

A genius could never be wrong.

If sothing went wrong…

Then it must be the world.