Slam Dunk: My physical abilities can be increased indefinitely.

Chapter 6 The Secret on the Tactical Board, Coach Taoka's Shock

After training, Taoka left Sendoh in the tactics room.

The room wasn't big. The lines drawn earlier were still on the whiteboard, and next to it was a photo of the entire Hainan team. Maki Shinichi's photo was in the very center; he had a buzz cut and a fierce look in his eyes, as if he wanted to devour someone.

Taoka pulled out a chair and sat down, gesturing for Sendoh to sit as well.

"Recite the tactic you mentioned yesterday again."

Sendoh didn't sit down. He picked up a whiteboard marker and drew a semicircle next to Maki's photo.

"Hainan's offensive system is not centered on Maki's breakthroughs, but on his passing after those breakthroughs. Maki draws double teams and then passes to Jin Soichiro on the perimeter or a shooter in the corner of the three-point line."

Taoka nodded; he knew all of this.

"But what if we put three players on the strong side? What will Maki do?" Sendoh drew the positions of three defensive players on the whiteboard. "Normally, he should pass to the weak side. But he has a habit of blocking his view with his right shoulder when he dribbles with his left hand, so he can't see the movement on the weak side."

Taoka sat up straight.

"So if we force him to go down the left wing, the defender on the weak side will move into the passing lane in advance the moment he breaks through, and his pass will most likely be intercepted."

Taoka stared at the whiteboard for more than ten seconds.

"Where did you get these observations from?"

"It's a video. A practice match video between Hainan and Sannoh, from last year's winter tournament."

Taoka frowned. "I also have those two recordings, and I didn't see this."

Sendoh put down his pen. "Perhaps I'm looking at it from a different perspective."

The old coach leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze sweeping over Sendoh's face.

You've changed a lot lately.

"Um."

"You never cared who your opponent was before; you were fishing at the beach the day before the match."

Xian Dao didn't reply.

Taoka stood up and walked to the window. It was dark outside, and several track and field teams were running laps on the playground; their footsteps could be faintly heard.

"I won't ask you why you changed," Taoka said without turning around, "but you need to tell me, what is your goal now?"

"win."

"Win what?"

"all."

Taoka turned around.

The light shone on his face, revealing deep wrinkles and heavy eye bags. This man, nearing fifty, had coached Lingnan for eight years, achieving a best result of reaching the top four in the county; he had never even made it to the national competition.

"Do you know how long I've waited to hear these words?"

Xian Dao nodded.

"Then go ahead." Taoka patted him on the shoulder. "Tactical drills start tomorrow. The opponent is Hainan. You'll be responsible for simulating Maki Shinichi."

"Me, a Simulated Priest?"

"Yes. You have enough speed, and your power has just increased. Although you're not as strong as Maki, you can imitate his fighting style." Taoka paused for a moment. "More importantly, you understand his habits. If you simulate them, they can adapt to cross-country running more quickly."

Sendoh thought for a moment, then said, "Okay."

When I stepped out of the tactics room, the corridor was quiet. Most of the lights in the teaching building were off, except for the green light of the emergency exit. Sendoh's sneakers made a loud sound on the terrazzo floor.

I ran into Yuzhu at the corner.

Uozumi was leaning against the wall, chewing on a rice ball. Seeing Sendoh, he swallowed and tapped the whiteboard marker in Sendoh's hand with his chin.

"You got kept behind by the coach again?"

"Okay, let's talk tactics."

Uozumi nodded without asking any further questions. He had been teammates with Sendoh for over a year and knew that the guy was usually lazy, but he never let him down in crucial moments.

Have you eaten?

"not yet."

"The cafeteria is about to close. Come on, it's on me."

The two walked towards the cafeteria. As they passed the playground, they saw Yueye practicing his shooting. Under the moonlight, Yueye stood at the three-point line, released his shot, and the ball arced through the air before bouncing off the rim.

It didn't go in.

Yueye cursed and went to retrieve the ball.

Sendoh shouted, "Take your elbows back!"

Yueye glanced back at him, adjusted his hand position, and threw again.

They're in.

He gave a thumbs-up and continued practicing.

The fish, who was watching from the side, took a bite of its rice ball and remarked, "Yeyue has been working really hard lately."

"He wants to shoot three-pointers in the national tournament."

"And you? Where do you want to throw?"

Sendoh thought for a moment, "NBA."

Uozumi almost choked on the rice ball, and had to pound his chest a couple of times to catch his breath.

"What did you say?"

"NBA."

Uozumi stared at him for three seconds to make sure he wasn't joking, then chuckled.

"Okay, I'll make you rice balls when I go to America."

It's a deal.

The next morning, the stadium was packed with people.

Not only were there Ryonan players, but also several graduates who came to help, specifically to serve as sparring partners. Taoka moved all the chairs to the sidelines, and the whiteboard was covered with tactics.

Sendoh stood in the center of the field, wearing a red training vest, representing his opponent, Maki Shinichi from Hainan.

Opposite them were Koshino, Uekusa, Fukuda, Uozumi, and another substitute defender.

"Simulation begins," Taoka whistled.

Sendoh holds the ball.

He dribbled to the top of the key, feigning a drive to the right, then suddenly changed direction to the left. Koshino followed, but Sendoh used his body to block him, ramming him in. The power difference between a B and Koshino's C+ was obvious. Koshino was forced back.

Upon reaching the free-throw line, Sendoh faked a jump, and Koshino jumped up to block the shot.

Instead of jumping, Sendoh passed the ball to the bottom corner.

There was no shooter there, because it was simulating Hainan Island, and Jin Soichiro should be standing in the bottom corner. But after Sendoh passed the ball, it went directly out of bounds.

Taoka blew his whistle, "No, you should pass to the top of the key. Maki's habit is to drive and pass to his teammates who are following up at the top of the key."

Sendoh shook his head. "Coach, when Maki breaks through on the left wing, the player at the top of the arc will be blocked by the defender, so he can't see him."

Taoka paused for a moment, then looked at the assistant coach next to him who was taking notes on tactics. The assistant coach flipped through his notes and nodded, "In last year's Hainan vs. Sannoh game, 70% of Maki's passes after breaking through on the left wing went to the bottom corner."

Taoka remained silent for a few seconds.

"Then let's do as Sendoh says. Off-road, go to the bottom corner to help defend."

Training continues.

Sendoh received the ball again, this time deliberately slowing down to wait for the defenders to double-team him, and then suddenly made a bounce pass to the assistant coach playing the role of "Sōichirō Jin".

The ball slipped through the gap between the two players and landed precisely in the assistant coach's hands.

He scored a layup.

Taoka took notes in his notebook.

The third time, the fourth time, and the fifth time.

Sendoh's offense was always different; sometimes he would go in himself, sometimes he would pass the ball, and sometimes he would draw fouls. Koshino was a bit bewildered by him, as was Uekusa, who even anticipated Uozumi's help defense.

During a fast break, Sendoh dribbled the ball from the backcourt and drove the length of the court to the frontcourt. Uozumi stood under the basket waiting for him, arms outstretched.

Sendoh didn't slow down and jumped.

Uozumi also jumped up.

The two collided in mid-air, the sound of muscles colliding dully. Sendoh's B-rank strength was clearly at a disadvantage against Uozumi's A-rank, and he lost his balance.

But he switched the ball to his left hand and shoved it under his armpit.

The ball grazed the paddle and went into the net.

The whistle blows; a foul.

When Sendoh landed, he lost his balance and staggered a couple of steps before bracing himself on the floor.

Uozumi landed, looked down at him, and said, "Are you crazy? Going head-on with someone who's two meters tall?"

Sendoh got up, dusted off his hands, and said, "Let's see how it goes."

"The effect is that you'll be thrown into the air."

"But the ball went in, and a foul was drawn."

Uozumi opened his mouth, but found he couldn't refute it.

Taoka blew his whistle from the sidelines, signaling a timeout.

Everyone gathered around. Taoka held a notebook filled with dense writing.

"Sendoh, your attacks just now weren't exactly the same as Maki's style. Maki prefers to overwhelm with power, while you use rhythm changes."

Sendoh took a sip of water. "Because my power hasn't reached Maki's level yet. But I'm faster than him."

"So you're playing your way?"

"Yes. What they need to adapt to is not Maki's style of play, but a point guard who is fast, can drive and shoot, and can also pass the ball."

"You're much harder to defend than Maki," Yueye said, panting heavily. "At least Maki doesn't shoot threes, but you fucking do."

Fukuda added from the side, "They'll also take a step back."

"It can also pull the lever," said the grass planter in a low voice.

Uozumi looked down at his hands. "He can still make layups over my head."

Sendoh smiled but didn't say anything.

Taoka closed his notebook. "Keep practicing."

The training lasted until 2 p.m.

Sendoh played the entire game, maintaining a B+ stamina until the very end. In the final ten minutes, his footwork noticeably slowed, resulting in two passing errors and one turnover by Koshino.

Taoka called a halt.

"That's enough. Sendoh, you rest. Fukuda, you can do the simulation."

Sendoh left the stage, sat on a bench, and covered his face with a towel.

He was drenched in sweat under the towel, and his breathing was still uneven. He opened the system panel and glanced at it.

PP Balance: 12

Five points were accumulated from today's training.

Jumping ability: B+, speed: A-, strength: B. The remaining weaknesses are reaction time: B+, flexibility: B-.

Too little flexibility will affect the pull and aerial maneuvers.

Xian Dao silently recited in his mind: Add some flexibility.

Flexibility: B-→ B

PP Consumption: 4

[Remaining PP: 8]

I don't feel anything physically. Flexibility isn't something you can achieve instantly by simply adding a little extra effort; it requires stretching.

He stood up, did a few stretching exercises, bent over, and barely touched his ankle with his fingers. He couldn't touch it before, but now he could, though it was still very stiff.

A bottle of sports drink was handed to them from the side.

Sendoh took it, looked up, and saw it was Uozumi.

The fish sat down next to him, unscrewed its water bottle, and took a big gulp.

You played really hard today.

"Um."

"I've never seen you play defense so aggressively before."

Sendoh unscrewed the drink, took a sip, and found it sweet.

"Because I don't want to lose."

Uozumi turned to look at him. "You've never said anything like that before."

There was no reason to say that before.

Uozumi was silent for a moment, then stood up and patted Sendoh on the shoulder.

"Okay. Then I'll stick with you until the very end."

After saying that, Uozumi walked back onto the field and continued training.

Sendoh sat on the bench, staring at Uozumi's back. A towering 2.02 meters tall, wearing number 4, the vice-captain of Ryonan. In the original story, Uozumi retired after his second year of high school, feeling he was a burden to the team.

But not this time.

Sendoh stood up, threw the beverage bottle into the trash can, and walked back onto the field.

Taoka glanced at him. "Have you rested enough?"

"alright."

"Continue. Sendoh, you'll simulate a priest; Fukuda, simulate Jin Soichiro; Uozumi, pay attention to the timing of your support defense..."

The whistle blew.

Sendoh bent over, placed his hands on his knees, and stared at the basket opposite him.

The ball spins in my hand.

Across from them, four people—Yoshi, Uekusa, Fukuda, and Uozumi—stood in their positions, their eyes focused.

Sendoh dribbles, starting the attack.

The screeching of sneakers rubbing against the floor, the muffled thud of the basketball hitting the ground, the shouts of teammates, the whistles, and the footsteps all blended together.

Sendoh charged in, met Uozumi's block attempt, and made a layup.

Goal!

As he landed, he heard the system pop up.

I didn't look, I continued to retreat and defend.