"Luke! Luke, man, wake up! We're heading out!"
The voice filtering through the bedroom door dragged Luke from the depths of sleep. He blinked, the morning light stinging his eyes, before swinging his legs out of bed. He shoved his feet into a pair of worn slippers and padded across the room to wrench the door open.
A youthful, almost boyish face looked up at him.
The young man tilted his head, scrutinizing Luke's tired eyes. "Did you stay up late again?"
Luke looked at his visitor—the unmistakable visage of Stephen Curry.
"Not a chance, Steph," Luke lied smoothly, stepping back to let him in. "I turned in early. I don't know what it is, man. I'm just always sleepy. Maybe it's a growth spurt? I am only nineteen, after all."
"Hey! Hey! Don't start with the age talk!"
Steph cut him off immediately, a flash of genuine annoyance crossing his face. If there was one thing that got under Curry's skin, it was age. Blessed—or cursed—with a permanent baby face, Steph spent half his life being mistaken for a high schooler.
Only two months prior, he'd celebrated his twenty-first birthday. Yet, just a few days ago, a grocery store clerk had looked him dead in the eye and accused him of being seventeen. It took a valid ID and a solid five minutes of skeptical squinting from the woman before he was allowed to walk out with his six-pack of beer.
Luke chuckled at his friend's plight. "Alright, alright. My bad. Give me a second to get cleaned up and I'll be ready to roll."
Steph checked his watch. "Make it fast. Coach Jeff said we're moving out in thirty minutes."
"Go... it..." Luke mumbled, already halfway through brushing his teeth.
As the toothpaste frothed, Luke caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He paused, leaning in to examine the man staring back. Sharp jawline, focused eyes, and an athletic frame that was starting to fill out.
Not bad, he thought with a grin. Actually, damn good.
To the world, he was an international student from China. His English name was Luke—a convenient choice since it sounded exactly like "Look," making it impossible for Americans to mispronounce. But beneath the surface of a standard student-athlete, Luke carried a secret: the Super Training Ground.
It had awakened two months into his freshman year, changing the trajectory of his life forever. While others were partying, Luke was calculating. He pulled up his mental interface as he rinsed his mouth.
[System Status: Super Training Ground]
Name: Luke Thorne
Height: 203 cm (6'8")
Wingspan: 218 cm (7'2")
Weight: 96 kg (211 lbs)
System Level: NCAA 3.0 (Maxed)
Training Multiplier: 8x (1 hour of real training = 8 hours of progress)
Accumulated Training: 1,805 Hours
Skill Points: 0
The system featured an Exchange Shop filled with legendary skills spanning the history of the game—from the ABA and the "Old School" NBA to the modern 2020 era.
Skills were ranked from F to S. An S-rank skill, like [Michael Jordan's Fadeaway], cost a staggering 100,000 points. At his current 8x multiplier, training ten hours a day, it would take Luke three and a half years of non-stop grinding to afford it.
The grind was real, but so was the payoff. After a year of "liver-bursting" five-hour daily sessions, he had maxed out the NCAA version of the system. To break past the 8x multiplier and unlock the NBA-tier shop, he had to make it to the league.
He flicked over to his current Skill Bar:
Iron Man (A.C. Green – S Rank):Passive. Massive boost to physical durability. Allows the host to endure extreme training volumes without injury.
This was his starter gift, modeled after the man who played 1,192 consecutive games. It was the only reason Luke's knees hadn't exploded after a year of relentless training.Defensive Specialist (Tony Allen – B Rank):Reduces opponent's shooting stability by 20%; increases steal success rate.Open-Look Sniper (Mike Miller – B Rank):Significant boost to 3PT percentage when undefended by 0.5 meters.
These three skills had been enough to catch the eye of Davidson's head coach, Bob McKillop, earning him a spot alongside Steph.
But today, he had finally spent his hard-earned savings. For 10,000 points, he had just purchased a new B-rank utility skill: [Draymond Green's Floor Generalship].
Floor Generalship:Enhances passing vision and court awareness. Increases teammates' shot conversion by 10% on received passes.
Luke knew his current limits. He didn't have the handles or the finishing touch to be a primary scorer yet. Trying to play like Kobe without the proper skills was a recipe for the bench. Instead, he was building the ultimate "3-and-D-plus-Playmaking" archetype.
Bread and butter first. The steak and wine would come later.
In the past year, Luke had treated every girl who tried to ask him out like a defensive threat to be avoided at all costs. He had no regrets. He was pouring every ounce of his youth into the only thing that mattered.
Training wasn't just a means to an end. Training was the king.
"Luke! Five minutes!" Steph yelled from the living room.
"Coming!" Luke grabbed his gym bag. The road to the NBA started with today's practice.