The main team nodded in response, and the coach left the gym. His departure seemed to lift the tension—the players' shoulders relaxed, but only for a moment. After Chang Wo left, the main team again turned their gaze to Ming You. Their looks held the usual expectation, mixed with slight impatience.
"I have instructions for you, but I'll say it away from prying eyes," said Ming You, pointing his finger towards the locker room door.
He paused, casting a glance at the newcomers, who were standing frozen to the side. Their presence was still a formality for now, and Ming You made that clear:
"And you, newcomers, wait a couple of minutes while we prepare a task for you." Without waiting for an answer, Ming You turned and headed towards the locker room, confident that the main team would follow him without further questions.
The basketball club newcomers stood motionless, exchanging glances in awkward silence.
Meanwhile, the main team, without uttering a word, moved after Ming You. Silence fell in the locker room, broken only by the dull thud of the doors. When everyone had sat down on the benches, Ming You lifted his head and produced a sly grin:
"At the moment, these new team members are our walking wallets, full of money."
"Are they all rich? Are we supposed to rob them? Or demand money for training?" Jung Ho asked in bewilderment. Ming You continued impassively:
"No, we'll do something much better and smarter. Namely, we'll take them to the streetball court and tell them to play for stakes, thereby earning money for us and increasing their loyalty to us."
Lu Shen straightened up and crossed his arms behind his head, saying optimistically:
"Great idea! But what if they end up in debt or aren't loyal to us?"
"In that case, I already have a solution," Ming You smiled slightly, as if he was hoping for exactly that outcome. "We'll use a rather dirty method: we'll make them sink into debt. And gangs know how to take care of debtors."
"Alright," Jung Ho agreed with him. "Shall we take them then?"
Ming You, standing up from the bench and heading towards the locker room exit, answered straightforwardly:
"Yes, but I'll be the one to summon them."
The newcomers, tapping their balls and talking in small groups, suddenly fell silent. Their attention was drawn to Ming You, who was walking confidently ahead of his main team.
He stood out not only because of his position but also because of his calm, collected demeanor. His gaze was directed forward, as if he could already see a goal inaccessible to the others. The other players froze, interrupting their conversations, and turned towards him.
Even those who hadn't noticed anything around them until now were now intently watching Ming You.
"Alright, guys," he clapped his hands and then continued, "We will compete by playing streetball and getting used to crowds of spectators and fans. So, gather your things and follow us."
One of the newcomers, a guy of average height with short dark chestnut hair, stepped a little closer. He stood slightly apart from the others, and his gaze expressed not so much protest as sincere puzzlement:
"But why can't we play here in the gym?"
"So Ho is right, why go outside?" agreed another newcomer, nodding towards the first. He was taller, but his voice held the same note of doubt.
Ming You, surveying them with his emotionless gaze, calmly replied:
"As I said, you first need to get used to the pressure from spectators."
So Ho nodded silently and headed after the others towards the locker room. His face remained impassive, but inside he felt a slight tension.
The new members of the Yoshido basketball club quickly gathered their things, exchanging short phrases. Ming You, without turning back, moved forward, and the newcomers immediately followed him, as if he were their unofficial leader. The other main players walked slightly behind, exchanging occasional remarks.
As soon as they arrived, a gathering crowd was already visible. People were gradually streaming towards the court, forming a living ring around the playing field. The tension was palpable in the air – everyone was awaiting the start of the match, whispering, throwing glances towards the arrivals.
On the central bench, as before, sat Taek Jung with his lackeys. He was calmly discussing something with his closest assistants, occasionally glancing at the approaching opponents. His confidence and calmness marked him as a person accustomed to keeping the situation under control.
"You wait here for now, and I'll negotiate with the organizers so you can all play."
Ming You turned to the team, made sure he was understood, and firmly headed towards Taek Jung. Making his way through the crowd, he felt people's glances sliding over him. The noise of voices, laughter—it all merged into a single hum, but he paid no attention to it. Leaving the team by the court, he stepped closer and closer to his goal.
Taek Jung was sitting on the back bench, his head slightly tilted to the side. When Ming You's shadow fell over him, he didn't immediately look up, as if to make it clear he had noticed him from afar.
"I was already thinking you wouldn't come, heh-heh." Taek Jung greeted him, and his voice held a slight mockery, seasoned with curiosity.
He slowly straightened up, studying Ming You, as if trying to guess what lay behind his calm expression.
"I wonder what kind of madness you've come up with this time, Ming You."
"As you can see, I've brought you players, or more precisely, living profit."
Ming You, looking slyly at Taek Jung, pointed his thumb at the new members of the basketball club.
"I will never cease to be amazed by your shamelessness," Taek Jung laughed, and after calming down, he continued. "Alright, let's sort out the rules now. How exactly will the games proceed according to your plan?"
Ming You smiled even wider, knowing he would be allowed to set the rules.
"Isn't it your job to organize the games and schedule them?"
"Don't mock me! Even a baby who knows you would understand that you'll be introducing your own rules. Besides, your plans bring the most profit, so don't drag it out and tell me, and I'll arrange everything."
"Then let's begin," he said, leaning forward slightly. "My main team has a group of five newcomers, just like I do. Therefore, there should be four games."
Taek Jung raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.
"I'll explain the scheme and the brackets now, so it's clearer." Ming You began to cross the index fingers of both hands, as if drawing invisible lines in the air. "The first bracket branch: Lu Shen's team versus Haru Lin's team. When one of them wins, they will have to play against the winner from the opposite branch, that is, whoever wins in the Jung Ho versus Hong Ren pair."
Taek Jung smirked, rubbing his chin.
"And what about your team of newcomers? And why four games instead of five?"
Ming You grinned, and his eyes flashed with a greedy fire.
"It's quite simple—it's about profit. The final team that wins the two brackets will play against my team, thereby I will play for that team and win the final bet. Thus, all these newcomers will become debtors, even those who played for me."
"So, the bets will only apply in the final against your team?" Taek Jung frowned. Ming You sharply spread his hands apart, as if revealing his cards:
"No, in the final against my team, they will have a chance to reduce their debt by half. But if they lose—and they will lose—then the debt of all teams increases fourfold."
He thought for a moment, but Ming You didn't give him time to ponder:
"But to make it fairer, and for the spectators to fall for the trick and place more bets, victory will only count if my team doesn't allow a single point to be scored. And we split the profit 50/50 between us, and both of us can use these people as we wish, with the condition that we cannot use them against each other. Besides, it's better for them to get used to being slaves properly, so they'll need my help for that."
Taek Jung laughed, but his laughter held a note of tension.
"You certainly know how to make the most money, but unfortunately, you don't know what reputation and moral principles are, heh-heh."
"So, do we have a deal?" He abruptly extended his hand, expecting a reciprocal gesture. "We're being waited for anyway: you by your spectators, and me by my profit and team."
Taek Jung let his gaze linger on Ming You's palm, then slowly raised his eyes.
"Alright," he finally said, grasping his hand. "But if anything goes wrong... it'll be your problem."