On the court, neither player cared about the tension in the stands. Right now, both of them were locked in on this possession.
Facing Kota's repeated jab steps, Wang held a strong defensive stance, but deep down, he was getting nervous.
"This guy… he's way too patient!!"
Another jab to the left. This time, however, Wang's positioning wasn't perfect.
Kota instantly noticed the gap. Instead of driving, he pulled his right leg back and raised into a shooting form, heels lifting as if he were really about to rise up for a jumper!
Wang lunged forward, right arm fully extended in his face.
But it was a fake.
Kota froze for a beat, then jabbed left again.
Wang's mind spun.
"Another fake?"
"No—it's fine! I haven't lost balance, I can keep up!"
Reacting instantly, Wang whipped his body around and cut off Kota's lane again.
But to his shock, Kota still didn't attack—just another jab step.
Wang halted, relieved.
"Good thing he's not that decisive. If he had gone for it, I might not have kept up."
That moment of relief loosened his tightly coiled muscles. He expected Kota to reset and go back into triple threat.
But this time, the fake… wasn't fake.
The jab to the left flowed smoothly into a sudden drive, Kota dropping the ball low and shifting his weight from left to right in one explosive beat.
Change of pace!
Wang's breath caught in his throat. He saw Kota already sliding past him, half a step ahead. Years of defensive training screamed in his head:
"Can't stop him! Too fast! Tactical foul!"
His body reacted before his brain. Without thinking, Wang reached out and grabbed Kota's jersey, trying to pull him back and stop the bucket—even if it meant a foul.
But Kota felt the tug instantly. Glancing sideways, he caught Wang's desperate move. Instead of anger, his eyes flickered with a trace of respect.
"To make the right defensive decision in a split second… this guy really does have the potential to be a defensive anchor."
"Too bad… using that on me won't end well."
Kota narrowed his eyes and abruptly shifted, pulling the ball back through his legs while subtly pressing his off-hand into Wang's abdomen.
The shove wasn't strong—more like a push you'd feel from a massage. But when your body's off-balance, even a feather can topple you.
Wang, still tugging at the jersey, felt his balance vanish. His legs buckled, arms flailing uselessly as his body toppled backward.
Helpless.
Everyone watched as he hit the floor, staring up in disbelief while Kota calmly rose into a jumper. The ball left his fingertips—
Swish!
The clean sound of the net echoed through the gym, followed by the dull bounce of the ball hitting the floor, thumping like a drumbeat in everyone's chest.
Forget the expressions of the youth team players—even Ebi, who had sat unshaken until now, sprang to his feet, jaw nearly dislocating.
That Wang — the "Iron Wall" of Ebi's defense system — had just been broken down and sent flying.
"Impossible…"
One of the youth players muttered. Beside him, the big man clenched his fists, face grim. He imagined himself in Wang's shoes… and realized it would have been worse. His defense wasn't even on Wang's level.
"Beautiful! What a shot!"
The only one still cheering was Reiko. She clutched her chest, sighing with relief as she applauded. That duel at the top of the key had nearly stopped her heart.
But the result couldn't have been better.
After sinking the shot, Kota walked over and extended a hand to Wang.
He wasn't the arrogant, trash-talking type — not really. Sure, he liked to stir the pot with some banter, but that was just a quirk.
And this was just a one-on-one practice. No need to overdo it. In a real game though? Different story. He'd throw in the celebrations and trash talk without hesitation—because basketball wasn't just about skill, but also about controlling momentum and mentality. Anything within reason that could rattle an opponent was fair game.
Seeing the hand offered, Wang didn't hesitate. He grabbed it and let Kota pull him up. Straightening his jersey, he grinned and said,
"Man, that was clean. Your rhythm is insane."
Too bad he forgot who he was talking to. Kota, ever the actor, widened his eyes in mock confusion, pretending he didn't understand a word.
Realizing his mistake, Wang smacked his forehead, then gave Kota a big thumbs-up—the simplest way to show his respect.
"Xiao Wang!"
From the sideline, Ebi snapped, unable to stay quiet any longer. Seeing his own disciple practically bowing in admiration was too much. His bet with Kota was still on the line!
It wasn't like losing would cost him anything tangible, but asking him—a seasoned coach—to apologize to some punk not even twenty years old?
That was a blow to his pride he could hardly endure.
On the court, Wang snapped to attention at the sound of his coach's voice. He rubbed his face hard, shaking off his slip, and refocused his eyes on Kota.
"The honor of the national youth team rests on me."
Lin had already fallen, but his defeat had given them intel.
Wang hadn't stepped up second because the final man was stronger—far from it. Other than the big guy, Wang was the strongest of the bunch.
So why not wait, save his strength, and face a more tired Kota later?
Because he craved a worthy opponent.
After mastering his defensive technique, no domestic perimeter player could challenge him anymore.
Any guard his size or bigger couldn't crack his defense in a straight-up duel. At best, they could only score through screens or exploiting technicalities.
But Kota? A smaller guard, breaking him down one-on-one, face-to-face—that was a first.
"Come on! Don't you dare hold back!"
Wang spread his arms wide, eyes blazing with fighting spirit, not caring if Kota understood or not.
From beyond the arc, Kota smiled thoughtfully.
"Didn't expect to find such an interesting opponent on my first day here."
"What a shame. If only I could trick you into joining Kaijo."
He sighed, tucking the ball under his right arm, now holding it one-handed.
Wang's resilience had changed his perspective.
"If there were a few more like you, taking down those monsters on the international stage might not be impossible."
Kota's words were quiet, but somehow, everyone in the gym heard them.
Since he spoke in Japanese, only Reiko and Ebi understood.
Reiko pressed her lips together, realizing what he meant. Those "monsters"…
Who else could deserve that title, other than the Generation of Miracles?
Ebi, on the other hand, was puzzled. But soon, he too grasped Kota's meaning.
"It might feel cruel… but experiencing this kind of power firsthand will do you good."
Kota shot a glance at Ebi, smirking faintly. His words weren't aimed at Wang at all.
"Alright then. Round two."
Kota tugged at his shorts with his left hand. For a split second, a flash of white lightning seemed to spark in his eyes.
Reiko, already guessing what was coming, covered her eyes with both hands—she couldn't bear to watch.
Ebi, however, leaned forward intently. He had to know what hidden card Kota was about to reveal.
But as the scene unfolded, his eyes widened, then widened more, until finally he was on his feet at the sideline. Even his walking cane, usually clutched tightly, was thrown aside.
Beside him, the youth players looked just as dumbfounded, like they'd just seen a ghost in broad daylight.
"Is… is that even possible?"
....
Slurp, slurp, slurp!
Kota was hunched over a huge bowl of ramen, shoveling noodles into his mouth. The broth and noodles rubbed against his lips with such vigor that it made quite a racket.
Across from him, Reiko ate much more elegantly. But if one listened closely, even her chewing gave off the faint sound of slurping noodles.
Unlike with most other foods, the louder the sound when eating noodles didn't mean bad manners—it was actually proof that the customer thought the noodles were delicious.
"Kota, is it really that good? It's just a bowl of ramen. Besides, you've been in Japan for a while now—aren't you used to the taste?"
Watching Kota devour the food like a starving wolf, Reiko nervously wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. She couldn't help but ask.
"Mm. Smells amazing."
Kota nodded while slurping down the last strand of noodles, tilting the bowl so the broth helped wash everything down.
What they were eating was none other than Lanzhou ramen, a classic street food found all over China.
Back in his previous life, when Kota was still in middle school, after playing late-night basketball with friends, he'd almost always swing by a ramen shop near the school for a midnight snack.
The taste was nothing special, but the feeling of both familiarity and strangeness made him ravenous.
Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he glanced at Reiko, who was still daintily savoring her noodles, and chuckled.
"You're laughing at me? Come on you've been in Japan for years now. Your taste buds still haven't changed?"
Reiko tilted her head, thought for a moment, then nodded with mock seriousness.
"It is a bit unusual, yeah… but I guess that makes it refreshing."
When the noodles had first been served, she'd even clapped her hands together, said "Itadakimasu," and started eating under Kota's smirking gaze.
Well, habits die hard.
Kota scratched his head and glanced outside. It was already evening, and plenty of office workers and students were walking by on their way home.
Reiko looked at him staring out the window and spoke up.
"So… how did today feel?"
"Hm?"
Kota snapped out of his thoughts and blinked at her before realizing what she meant.
"Not bad. A few of those guys have some real potential. With the right training, they might actually shine in the World Tournament."
He thought of Wang the defensive specialist, and that towering big man he hadn't even faced yet.
"My performance today wasn't too bad either, right?"
He stroked his chin, recalling the afternoon.
Deciding to show off a little, Kota had gone straight into the Zone. Unsurprisingly, that completely crushed his opponents.
Wang who'd been able to hang in for a few exchanges before, was instantly blown away. As for the third guy who stepped up… let's not even mention him.
One second. Done. What more was there to say?
But what stood out most in Kota's mind was still Ebi.
When his three disciples were taken down one after another, unable to stop even a single point, and all three matches ended in shutouts, the old man's face looked more weathered than a storm-beaten rock.
When it came time to settle the bet, though, Ebi hadn't acted arrogant. He did say "sorry"… though so quietly Kota wasn't even sure he'd actually heard it. At least he didn't go back on his word.
"Pfft—ahahaha!"
Reiko couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, covering her mouth with one hand in a failed attempt to stay ladylike. The sound she made was anything but bell-like.
"If you'd known Ebi before, you'd realize just how rare it is for someone to make him apologize. That alone is a miracle."
Wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, she grinned at Kota.
"Well, you don't have to tell me. I could already tell he's one stubborn old man."
Kota shrugged, already forming an impression of his future coach.
Reiko nodded vigorously.
"Even before I went to Japan, Ebi had just become the new head coach of the national team. Back then, his temper was already terrible. People used to say he was like a rock in an outhouse—smelly, hard, and impossible to move."
Kota couldn't help but laugh at that. But then something in her words made him frown.
"Wait, national team head coach? But today I was with the youth training squad. Don't tell me he's working two jobs?"
Reiko wagged a finger.
"Two years ago, yes—he was the head coach. But he got sick of seeing the younger generation's level drop, so he asked to step down. Now, his main job is developing young talent for the future national team. That's what the youth squad is for."
She paused, slurping another mouthful before adding,
"Oh, and by the way, the current head coach of the national team? He's one of Ebi's former disciples. Used to be a point guard before moving into coaching."
"Ohhh."
Kota nodded in understanding. That little detail gave him an idea: if playing basketball in China didn't pan out, he could always switch to coaching.
After all, in his past life's NBA, plenty of smart point guards had transitioned into great coaches after retiring. Being a floor general wasn't so different from being on the sideline.
Reiko, oblivious to his inner monologue, finished the last of her noodles, let out a tiny burp, then dabbed her mouth with a napkin and stood up.
"Let's go."
Kota automatically got to his feet, then blinked.
"Go where?"
"To the supermarket, of course. Stock up on groceries. What if I'm not around and you starve to death? Ebi would murder me."
She shot him a mock glare. But behind the jab was genuine approval.
After all, she'd seen enough to know that Kota had already won the old man over. Ebi might not admit it out loud, but in his heart, he was probably thrilled.
That thought made Reiko smile.
She had just uncovered a gem of a point guard for Chinese basketball!
Once Kota made his mark in the pro leagues, wouldn't her name — Reiko… no, Shi Yimin— go down in basketball history as the one who found him?
"Wahaha!"
The thought alone had her standing with hands on her hips, laughing loudly without a shred of elegance.
"Miss Reiko, I'd really appreciate it if you could act normal. You're embarrassing me here."
"Shut up!"
…
…
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world.
Downstairs from Kota's apartment, a lone figure had been standing for some time. He raised his head, staring up at the window, phone buzzing in his hand.
"The number you have dialed is out of service. Please try again later…"
"…Kota…"