"The players who passed the evaluation are…"
"First—Kota."
Sun looked down at the list in his hand and read the first name aloud.
The moment he did, Kota felt several gazes fall on him—most of them filled with envy.
But honestly, no one was surprised. After watching his performance during the scrimmage, it would've been weird if he didn't make the cut.
Sun gave Kota a quick glance, noticed that he remained calm as ever, and moved on.
"Second—Xiao Wang."
"Yes!"
The small forward clenched his fist and let out a low cheer.
Throughout the entire game, Wang had shown excellent consistency — cutting inside for easy points whenever Kota's pinpoint passes found him, while holding his ground on defense against the far more athletic Li Wenyu.
Kota wasn't surprised by the result either. Even before this test, he'd faced Wang in a one-on-one match when he first arrived in China, and had already recognized the guy's natural defensive instincts and tenacity.
Their teammates clapped and congratulated him—though, truth be told, most of them were more worried about their own results.
After the brief moment of celebration, silence fell again. Everyone stared at Sun, hearts pounding, waiting for that last name.
"Now then… there's only one spot left."
Sun stroked his chin, suddenly smiling mischievously. For a coach who was usually stoic and mature, it was rare to see him teasing like this.
"The third and final player to advance is—"
He deliberately dragged out the words, scanning each of the eight young national team hopefuls before finally resting his gaze on Xiao Gao.
At that moment, Gao was practically sweating buckets. His hands fidgeted nervously, and his eyes locked on Sun's lips like his life depended on them.
Everyone noticed where the coach's attention lingered. The rest of the players' faces immediately darkened—they all took it as a clear sign.
With Gao's 210 cm height, 217 cm wingspan, and his title as "Ebi's prized apprentice", it seemed the final spot was already decided.
Everyone thought so—Everyone except Kota.
He didn't see it that way.
Setting aside all the outside factors, if they were judging purely by this match, then Gao's performance had been… pretty bad.
Against a defense that wasn't even that tight, and with multiple setups from Kota, his finishing rate hadn't even reached 40%!
Maybe nerves had gotten to him, maybe pressure—but facts were facts: he hadn't played well.
If this decision followed connections instead of performance, Gao would be a shoo-in. And judging from Sun's expression, it did look like he was about to call his name…
Until—
"The third player — Xiao Lin."
Silence.
Unlike the first two announcements, not a single cheer followed this one.
"Wait, what? Did I mishear that? It wasn't Gao?"
That thought echoed in everyone's mind—everyone except Kota and Ebi.
Kota quietly shook his head, a surprised look in his eyes as he stared at Sun.
"Damn… this guy really doesn't care about politics, huh? Completely ignoring his mentor's favorite player—he's got guts."
Even as an outsider who had only been in China for a short time, Kota could tell that Gao was Ebi's golden boy.
Yet Sun showed no favoritism. Cold, fair, and unrelenting.
"Talk about iron-faced justice," Kota muttered under his breath. "Something tells me this coach is going to be a real pain to deal with."
He sneaked a glance at Hailao, who wore a hint of regret on his face—but didn't say a single word to protest.
The two coaches—master and disciple—were truly cut from the same mold.By the time the game had ended, both already knew who would be chosen.
"Sigh…"
Ebi walked over and patted Gao's shoulder.
"You didn't play well today. If Sun had given you that slot, you wouldn't have felt right about it either, would you?"
He wiped the sweat from Gao's face as he spoke quietly.
Gao kept his head down, silent. Yet Kota noticed the faint shimmer of a tear drop to the floor.
Hailao sighed again and didn't say anything more, only giving Sun a knowing look.
The latter nodded in understanding and cleared his throat.
"Ahem!"
"Congratulations to the three who passed," he said, voice firm. "Starting tomorrow, you'll join the National Team's month-long special training camp. Our goal—placing in the upcoming Basketball World Cup."
"As for those who didn't make it—don't be discouraged. Keep refining your game in the Youth National Team. Success doesn't happen overnight; it's the result of persistence, day after day."
Then he turned to Kota.
"Kota, your situation is a bit special. Coach Ebi already informed me—you'll have to return to Japan to finish your final year of high school."
"That's your choice, and I won't interfere. But you should know—this next month will be tough. Very tough. I hope you're ready for that."
Kota nodded calmly. He wasn't surprised.
As a point guard—the "brain" of the team—he knew the adaptation period would hit him the hardest.He'd need to learn every teammate's habits, build chemistry, and memorize the coach's playbook inside and out.
But for someone whose basketball IQ and court vision were on another level, this wasn't something to worry about.Even if Sun had a head full of advanced strategies, there was no way he could out-plan someone who literally carried a "Professional Basketball Experience Pack" in his head.
…What Kota didn't expect, however, was that only half a month later, he'd end up arguing with Sun.
—
Half a month later, inside the National Team's private training facility.
BEEP!
A sharp whistle cut through the gym. Sun frowned and halted the scrimmage.
"Kota — why didn't you get back on defense during that last play?"
His tone was sharp. This wasn't the first time he'd noticed Kota committing what looked like a rookie mistake.
For someone with such absurd basketball IQ, Kota sometimes made decisions that left even the coach confused—like just now.
After their team got stripped and the opponents launched a fast break, Kota, instead of sprinting back, stayed near half-court, watching his teammates hustle while he remained still—as if calculating something in his head.
Facing Sun's question, Kota rubbed his nose and answered honestly:
"I figured that since they already had the fast break, if I stayed upcourt and my teammates managed to stop them, one decent outlet pass would give us an easy score on the other end."
He spoke calmly, logically—like he'd already analyzed the situation in his head.
Nearby, Li Wenyu gave him a pitying look that clearly said 'Rest in peace, man.'
Ever since Sun took over the National Team, no one had ever dared talk back to them. Anyone who did usually got verbally obliterated.
But… instead of exploding, Sun paused. He frowned, thought for a moment, and then said, almost in a curious tone:
"Alright. But what if, after that steal, the opponents don't go for a fast break? What if they slow down, set up in the half-court, and run their offense?"
"If that happens, and you're still standing up there — doesn't that make it a four-on-five situation for your team?"
His sharp gaze locked onto Kota, clearly waiting for an answer.
Li Wenyu's jaw dropped.
"Wait—was Coach Sun… actually asking instead of scolding?"
He could swear this was the first time he'd ever seen that happen. And something told him—it wouldn't be the last.
Kota, however, remained perfectly calm.
"You're right, Coach. If they chose to slow the pace and set up a half-court play, then yeah—I'd basically be leaving my teammates one man short."