The Book of Characters.
From the Author:
I consciously created this section as a living, constantly updated knowledge base about the world and the heroes of "Blood Ball." My main goal is to get into a productive workflow and keep all the details in focus, which helps me write the subsequent chapters consistently and with inspiration. For myself, I perceive it as a space for creative notes, where thoughts and ideas are structured and take shape. However, I want to warn you right away: if you haven't read any chapters of the main story yet, you might encounter spoilers here, as I reveal backstories, motivations, and possible plot developments, but it's not critical. In addition to textual information, you will also find character artwork here — visual images that help me, and hopefully you, better feel their character and the atmosphere of the world. Welcome to the creative kitchen of this story.
Upd: I also just want to fill the gap in volume 0.
Upd2: Just so you know, the story's events take place in 2020. (There is no pandemic because the world is fictional and all that, but the story itself came to my mind in 2020, and I made the first drafts in that same year.)
…
[Yoshido Team art]
Starting Lineup:
[Ming You in casual clothes]
[Ming You in school uniform]
[Ming You in basketball uniform]
[Ming You in a black hoodie and khaki pants]
A young man born on April 4, 2004. By his sixteen years, he possesses a deliberately unremarkable appearance — slightly above average height at 178cm, a lean but wiry build that allows him to be inconspicuous. His face is most often an impeccably neutral mask, devoid of emotion. His features are regular, but none are memorable: a straight nose, lips that are neither too thin nor too full. But everything changes when you meet his gaze. His eyes are dark brown, almost black, appearing empty and bottomless, like two obsidian lakes that swallow all glimmers of light and souls. He looks through people, not at them; his gaze is analytical, scanning, devoid of any human warmth.
His dark hair is straight and quite thick, usually falling just below his nose line, almost hiding his eyebrows and creating the impression that he is constantly looking out from under his bangs. He never pays attention to it, doesn't style it — it just exists, part of his camouflage. He dresses with calculated simplicity. Outside of school, it's always non-marking, dark clothing: black or dark gray cotton t-shirts, loose-fitting sweatpants casually sitting on his narrow hips, and black sneakers (most often classic models without bright logos, but sometimes with contrasting red laces — the only hint of an inner fire). His school uniform — an impeccably ironed white shirt and black trousers — is worn by him like a soldier's uniform, without a hint of individuality or carelessness.
His only acknowledged passion is basketball. But for Ming You, it's not a sport or a game. It is a complex, multi-level system, reminiscent of chess, which he was fond of before. Basketball attracts him more, with its dynamics and the possibility of physical dominance; however, if he were confident of victory, he wouldn't refuse a game of chess — just to prove his superiority once again. For him, the court is a battlefield, the ball is a pawn, and opponents and even teammates are pieces to either protect or sacrifice. He feels no joy from a shot or excitement from the game. He feels cold satisfaction from a correctly calculated and executed play, from the broken psyche of an opponent, from proving his own tactical superiority. In Team "Yoshido," he is the undisputed captain and strategist, its brain and nerve center. His position on the court is point guard, which perfectly matches his essence: he controls the pace of the game, distributes passes (which are more like orders), sees the entire court, and manipulates what is happening, remaining in the shadows, at the start of most attacks.
His deep, pathological goal is to become the sole bearer of the status "Talent." For him, this is not just a sports definition. It is existential proof. Although he desires to be number one in basketball and the strongest player in the world, he is not attracted by money or fame. He doesn't care about social conventions or the path to the NBA. What's important to him is self-affirmation, achieving a goal deemed "unattainable" for his physical parameters. He doesn't want to be just the best. He wants to be above. Above everyone.
The pathology of his nature is revealed in his methods of eliminating obstacles. After the murders of his parents and his ex-girlfriend, Sun Hee, he initially justified his actions with his cold goal. However, his true essence soon manifested. Ming You is a sadist who derives pleasure from the process. He prefers to break men psychologically, driving them to frenzy through subtle manipulations, watching their self-control and sanity crumble. Women, especially young and fragile ones, he subjects to elaborate physical pain. This cruelty is rooted in his traumatic experience — the painful breakup with Sun Hee, which for him turned out to be even more agonizing than his mother's death. Dismemberment for him is not just a way to hide evidence, but the final act of absolute control and possession, the final touch in his ugly "art."
His asceticism extends to alcohol. After moving in with his uncle and aunt, against the backdrop of his mother's death and, most importantly, the separation from Sun Hee, he secretly drank hard liquor for weeks, developing a strong tolerance. Now he drinks rarely and in a controlled manner, only in company or for tactical purposes, preferring cocktails up to 35% ABV — that's enough to maintain appearances while remaining 100% in a conscious state of mind. In moments of stress or planning, he leans back in his chair, tilts his head back, and stares at the ceiling as if drawing calculations from the void. His mind works with frightening efficiency. He lacks empathy, compassion, fear. Instead, there is cold, unceasing logic. He is a master of mimicry: he can instantly put on the mask of a friendly simpleton, a timid newcomer, or a cocky troublemaker.
He possesses phenomenal, almost photographic memory, but only for useful data. Addresses, schedules, names, tiny details in people's behavior, their casually dropped phrases — all of this is neatly organized in his consciousness like bullets in a magazine. In his world, there is no moral difference between a basketball and a kitchen knife. Both are tools. The ball is needed to win games, the knife — to remove obstacles on that path. In moments of stress, danger, or when his plans come together, his internal monologue doesn't become panicked or emotional. On the contrary, it acquires crystalline, chilling clarity, becoming even more cynical and detached, while his body remains absolutely relaxed.
In food, he is as ascetic and pragmatic as in clothing. He has no "favorite" food in the usual sense. He eats what is effective: plain white rice, skinless grilled chicken, fruit, mint tea, or black coffee without sugar. Food is fuel for the body, nothing more. He doesn't understand people who derive pleasure from it. Sometimes he might buy a cheap chocolate bar, but he'll eat it mechanically, without even noticing the taste, just to quickly raise his glucose levels. His room is a model of minimalism and functionality. A bed, a desk, a chair, a wardrobe. On the desk — a worn deck of playing cards, which he shuffles while thinking, and a notebook with blank sheets. No posters, no trinkets, no traces of personal life. He sleeps little, 4-5 hours a day, and his dreams (if he has any) are as empty and featureless as his gaze.
…
[Jung Ho in school uniform]
[Jung Ho in basketball uniform]
[Jung Ho in casual clothes]
A red-haired giant born on August 16, 2003. At his seventeen years, he is the physical embodiment of strength and reliability. His height is 192 cm, and his broad shoulders and powerful, defined arms reveal a born athlete. His face is open and honest. But the main feature of his face is his eyes. Brown, warm, and incredibly sincere, they glow with inner strength and unwavering faith — in the team, in the fairness of the game, in goodness, even after Ming You. His bright red hair is cut short, often tousled after practice, like a flame.
He wears simple, comfortable clothing: wide sweatpants, t-shirts with basketball team logos or plain ones, and massive sneakers capable of supporting his weight and jumps. Even off the court, he looks as if he just stepped off it. In school uniform, he feels cramped and uncomfortable; he is always slightly unbuttoned and disheveled.
Jung Ho lives for basketball. But unlike Ming You, for him it is passion, religion, and brotherhood. He believes in the purity of the game, in the power of team spirit, that true victory is achieved through hard work and unity. His position in Team "Yoshido" is power forward and captain by title (before Ming You's arrival). He is the pillar, the support, the strength under the basket. His game is about power, pressure, fighting for every rebound, and ironclad defense. He is not the most technical, but his dedication, physical strength, and ability to inspire his teammates make him the heart of the team.
His goal is simple and majestic: to lead Team "Yoshido" to the top, win all tournaments, prove that their spirit and hard work are stronger than any individual talent. He dreams of the moment when they will lift the cup together, as one family. After the defeat by Ming You and being "saved" from debts, his goal transformed: now he wants to prove to Ming You the strength of a real team and, paradoxically, protect his manipulator-captain, considering him a victim of circumstances.
Jung Ho's quirks lie in his almost childlike spontaneity and hypertrophied sense of responsibility. Before a game, he обязательно slaps each teammate on the shoulder in turn, looking them in the eye, and says, "We can do this." When very focused, he sticks out the tip of his tongue. He hates losing, but after a defeat, he doesn't look for someone to blame; he is the first to start analyzing mistakes, encouraging others. His weakness is blind faith in people and an inability to see malice until it hits him in the face.
He adores high-calorie, simple food: huge portions of fries, double cheeseburgers, pork cutlets drenched in sauce, and liters of chocolate milk. He eats with a huge appetite, never watching his diet, believing that strength requires fuel. His room is cluttered with sports equipment, balls, sweatshirts, and discs with game recordings. On the wall — an inspirational poster of a mountain peak with the inscription "The Team is Everything."
…
[Lu Shen in school uniform]
[Lu Shen in basketball uniform]
[Lu Shen in a leather jacket and jeans]
The team's restless livewire, born on July 5, 2004. Short (about 168 cm), with a wiry build. His face is almost always lit up by a wide, mischievous grin. Light, almost blond hair is cut to his eyebrows, emphasizing his mischievous, lively hazel eyes, in which sparks of excitement and a desire to tease a friend constantly flicker.
His style is a challenge. Off the court, he wears worn leather jackets, skinny jeans, t-shirts with provocative prints (often related to rock music or absurd slogans), and high-top sneakers. He loves bright accessories — wide belts with massive buckles, leather and metal bracelets. At school, his uniform is always at least slightly violated — shirt untucked, tie dangling, top buttons undone.
Basketball for Lu Shen is adrenaline, speed, and a chance to shine. He adores spectacular drives, fast breaks, and shots from awkward positions. His position on the team is shooting guard. He is the thorn, the stinger, the unpredictable element that can single-handedly ignite an offense and score points at a critical moment. He doesn't like long tactical setups, preferring to act on instinct and speed.
His main goal is to become the coolest and most recognizable player in the school, and in his secret dreams — in the district. He wants the stands to chant his name, for girls to notice him, and for opponents to fear his speed and audacity. After getting involved in money games and being "saved" by Ming You, his goal became mixed with gratitude and a desire to prove that he is worth the money invested in the team and the risks.
His quirks are his restless energy. He constantly fidgets, taps his foot, handles the ball. He loves teasing Haru Lin; their bickering is an integral part of the team's life. In a state of deep concentration on the court, he stops grinning, and his face becomes predatory, focused. He is superstitious: before a game, he always puts on his left sneaker first and bounces the ball three times on the floor.
Lu Shen is a fan of spicy and junk food. He can be caught munching on chili pepper chips, spicy chicken wings, ramen with incredible levels of heat, washing it all down with a "typhoon"-flavored soda. He claims that spiciness "clears the head." His room resembles a punk rocker's den: band posters, scattered CDs, a guitar in the corner that probably can't be played, and eternal mess. He sleeps little, often falling asleep to loud music in headphones.
…
[Haru Lin in school uniform]
[Haru Lin in basketball uniform]
[Haru Lin in a stylish jacket and hoodie]
A tall, stately guy born on November 21, 2003. His height is 188 cm, his figure is toned and graceful, without Jung Ho's massiveness. His face has high cheekbones, a sharp, slightly arrogant chin, and thin eyebrows. His signature feature is his hair: dark at the roots, transitioning to ash-gray at the tips. His eyes are gray, cold, and mocking, often half-closed by heavy eyelids, creating an impression of constant boredom and superiority.
Haru dresses with pretense to street fashion, but more thoughtfully than Lu Shen. Stylish dark-toned hoodies, expensive bombers, tech fabric trousers, pristine white limited edition sneakers. He follows trends, and his look always has a touch of artificial carelessness that costs money. At school, he wears the uniform but always in a special way — the shirt might be made of a different, more expensive fabric, and the trousers fit perfectly.
For Haru, basketball is an intellectual and aesthetic exercise. He despises brute force, values the beauty of a shot, the elegance of a fake, the purity of a pass. His position is small forward. He is a sniper from long range, a master of outside shooting and a player capable of making a beautiful and effective pass. He plays with cold, calculating efficiency, often with the air of someone condescending to play with the less gifted.
His goal is to prove that he is the best. Not just on the team, but in principle. He wants his game to be the standard of style and efficiency, an object of admiration and envy. He cannot tolerate the chaos and stupidity that Lu Shen personifies for him. After getting involved in the dark affairs with Ming You, his goal became more complicated: now he wants a lot of money and a lot of women.
Haru's quirks lie in his snobbery and sarcasm. He is a master of caustic, precise remarks that hit the mark. On the court, before a precise three-pointer, he makes a barely noticeable pause, as if admiring the upcoming moment, and slightly squints. He hates when someone touches his hair or when dirt appears on his sneakers.
In food, he is just as fastidious. Prefers light, healthy, but refined food: sashimi, medium-rare steaks with rosemary, salads with arugula and parmesan, green tea. Can talk for hours about coffee varieties. Eats slowly, with dignity. His room is a model of minimalism and order. Everything is neatly arranged, colors are kept in a black-white-gray palette, a collection of expensive sneakers in boxes stands on a shelf. Listens to atmospheric music, often electronic or jazz.
…
[Hong Ren in school uniform]
[Hong Ren in basketball uniform]
[Hong Ren in a simple hoodie]
The quiet observer, born on February 3, 2004. Average height (about 176 cm), slender, with a gymnast's flexible body. His face is a mask of calmness. Black hair, regular but unremarkable features. Dark eyes, attentive and incredibly focused, but lacking a bright sparkle — they are like two dark lakes that absorb light but do not reflect it back. He rarely makes direct eye contact; his gaze usually slides around the bridge of the interlocutor's nose or on the object of interest.
His wardrobe is the apotheosis of inconspicuousness. Simple solid-colored hoodies in gray, navy, or black, equally simple sweatpants, no logos, no bright details. He looks like a shadow, part of the scenery. In school uniform, he is absolutely standard, blending into the mass of other students.
For Hong Ren, basketball is a logical problem and a set of movements to be performed with maximum efficiency. He feels no passion like Jung Ho, no excitement like Lu Shen, or aesthetic pleasure like Haru Lin. He sees the court as a coordinate system and players as moving points. His position on the team is center (before Ming You's arrival, he often acted as point guard). He is the defender, a specialist in rebounds and blocks, the one who reads the game and plugs defensive holes. His game is quiet, unassuming, but incredibly useful.
His goal is to perform his function. He doesn't strive for leadership, doesn't want fame. He wants the system (the team) to work without failures, and he is ready to be the cog that ensures this work. His deep-seated need is belonging to a group, to a system where he has a clearly defined role. Ming You, with his iron control and clear (albeit amoral) plans, paradoxically gave Hong Ren precisely that — a sense of place in a new, harsher, but predictable system.
Hong Ren's quirks are his silence and hypertrophied observation. He can remain silent for hours, then utter one but incredibly accurate and important remark. Before a game, he always performs the same stretching routine, brought to automaticity. On the court, before making a decisive block, he lets out a short, almost inaudible exhale. He doesn't engage in arguments but watches them with mild, internal sarcasm.
In food, he is absolutely indiscriminate. The only thing he'd pick up fastest from a store shelf is orange juice. Eats whatever is given or whatever is easier to make: instant noodles, convenience store sandwiches, rice balls. For him, the process of eating is as functional as it is for Ming You, but without that calculating pragmatism — simply indifference. His room is almost empty. A bed, a desk, a shelf with books (mostly technical manuals and reference books, but also a few collections of haiku). On the desk — a Rubik's Cube, which he solves against the clock to "tune" his thinking. He sleeps exactly 8 hours, going to bed and getting up by alarm.
...
Coach:
[Chang Wo in a training suit]
[Chang Wo in a teacher's blazer]
A thirty-five-year-old man, born on December 2, 1985. He is a man of system and order, whose life is built around basketball and nurturing young athletes. His appearance is the embodiment of athletic restraint and a teacher's sense of responsibility. Height around 180 cm, his physique is lean and wiry, without excess bulk, but with sturdy shoulders and legs accustomed to strain. His face is open, with regular, slightly weary features. His shortly cut, chestnut-brown hair is already touched by early but neat gray at the temples, giving him the look of a man bearing the weight of responsibility. His eyes are brown, attentive and perceptive, usually shining with genuine interest during practice, but capable of turning steely and unyielding when principles are at stake.
He dresses functionally and modestly: simple gray or blue training suits made of non-marking fabric, blue sneakers with neatly tied gray laces. At school, he wears a standard teacher's wardrobe — non-marking shirts and trousers, always cleanly ironed. On his wrist — inexpensive but reliable digital watches by which he counts timeouts and intervals. There is not a hint of pretentiousness or a desire to stand out in him — only practicality and devotion to his work.
His role in the life of the "Yoshido" team is that of a coach, mentor, and, in his own understanding, a protector. He believes in the power of sportsmanship, fair play, rigorous training, and healthy competition. For him, basketball is not just a game, but a tool for shaping character, discipline, and team spirit. He builds practices on fundamental principles: defense, passing, endurance. His philosophy is that victory is achieved through hard work, not through brilliant but dangerous improvisation. His position in his own system is that of an absolute authority and a strategist, but a conservative strategist, preferring proven schemes over risk.
His goal is to create a strong, cohesive team that can perform with dignity in the school league and, perhaps, give his players a ticket to collegiate sports. He wants his charges to grow up not only as good players but as decent people. The clash with Min Yu became for him a personal tragedy and a challenge to everything he believes in. The threat of street violence, debts, and crime that Min Yu brought into his world of clean gyms is a nightmare he is obliged to stop at any cost, even at the cost of his own career or safety.
His quirks lie in pedantic organization and a heightened sense of duty. Before each practice, he neatly lays out cones and balls along the court markings. During games on the sidelines, he stands very straight, arms crossed over his chest, and only occasionally, in moments of particular tension, takes one or two sharp steps along the sideline. He is superstitious in small things: he always starts the first practice of the week from the right side of the hall and drinks green tea from the same blue mug.
In food, he is as simple and health-conscious as in clothing. He prefers homemade Korean cuisine: kimchi, stewed vegetables, steamed fish, white rice. He practically does not consume alcohol, believing a coach should always be clear-headed and pure. He lives with his family (wife, twelve-year-old daughter, and two-year-old son) in a modest but cozy apartment not far from the school. His home is filled with family photos, books on sports psychology and pedagogy, and an exercise bike stands on the balcony. He sleeps little, often waking up at night, pondering tactics or worrying about his students. His dreams are likely simple and connected to perfect game combinations or, recently, to anxious images of empty referee whistles and street darkness.
…
Reserve Roster:
[So Ho in school uniform]
[So Ho in basketball uniform]
[So Ho in a simple t-shirt and shorts]
A 16-year-old youth, born on June 11, 2004. Short (about 172 cm) and compact, with a lean but strong body honed by endless hours of extra training. His physical shape is the result not just of school practice but daily work with his older sister, So Yong, a former university basketball player. His face is angular, with an intelligent, tenacious gaze of dark gray eyes that rarely lose sight of details. His hair is dark, cut short and practically. On his left wrist, he almost always wears sports digital watches — not for style, but to control training time, rest intervals, and, oddly enough, for a sense of stability.
He dresses with calculated functionality. Quality, non-marking sweatpants, breathable fabric t-shirts, comfortable sneakers with good support. His appearance has nothing superfluous, only what helps him move faster and more precisely. In school uniform, he looks collected but somewhat detached, as if his thoughts are already on the court. His basketball jersey number is 14.
For So Ho, basketball is discipline and system. Ming You declared war on the very system he and his sister built, replacing it with the chaos of manipulation. His position on the team is power forward, but with an emphasis on tactical understanding of the game. He's not just a "sledgehammer" under the basket; he tries to be the brain of the defense, anticipate movements, set proper screens. His game is intelligent and pragmatic, devoid of ostentatious aggression but filled with cold determination. He despises Ming You's game not because of moral principles (though he has those too), but because it turns his understandable world of rules and effort into an absurd theater where the main prize is not victory, but humiliation.
His main goal is to prevent Ming You's system from completely consuming him and his comrades. He sees Ming You's proposal not as a "chance," but as another, more sophisticated trap, yet a trap one might need to enter to find its weak point. He is a tactician under siege. His underlying motive is to restore control and order, return the game to its original, honest meaning, where the one who is stronger and smarter on the court wins, not in underground intrigues. His older sister, So Yong, remains his beacon of normality and the standard of "real" sport against which he measures this whole nightmare.
His quirks are the habit of checking his watch in moments of tension and rubbing his wrist where they are. He speaks little, weighing every word. Before a game, he always performs the same ritual: checks his shoelaces three times, adjusts his knee pads, and takes three deep breaths, focusing his gaze on the hoop. He is not superstitious; he believes in rituals as a way to tune his psyche.
In food, he is an adherent of sports nutrition. His diet is high in protein (chicken breast, fish, cottage cheese), complex carbs (brown rice, oatmeal), and vegetables. No fast food, minimal sugar. He eats on a schedule, even carrying food containers with him when out. His room resembles a headquarters: clean, functional, with a training schedule and several tactical diagrams on the wall. He sleeps exactly 7.5 hours, going to bed and getting up at the same time. His dreams are sometimes filled with images of perfectly constructed plays that always collapse due to one chaotic, mocking silhouette.
…
[Jen Ryu in school uniform]
[Jen Ryu in basketball uniform]
[Jen Ryu in a leather jacket]
A 17-year-old youth, born on March 3, 2003. Tall (about 186 cm) and athletic, with a body where every muscle is tense as if ready to explode. His face is a mask of suppressed rage: sharp features, dark eyes smoldering with the fire of an irreconcilable conflict, tightly pressed lips. Dark hair is cut short on the sides, left longer on top, falling over his forehead in a heavy, careless strand that he angrily brushes away with his hand.
His style is a bulletproof vest of black leather and rough fabrics. A worn leather jacket, ripped jeans, heavy boots — all of it is not fashion but armor, a way to fence himself off from a world he sees as hostile and unfair. Even in his basketball uniform with number 13, he looks like a fighter who accidentally ended up on a sports court.
For Jen Ryu, basketball is a legalized fight, a territory where his anger can find an outlet in a conditionally acceptable form. His position is shooting guard. He is the battering ram, the living weapon of penetration. His game is built on pure, unbridled aggression, phenomenal speed, and a readiness for head-on collision. He is technical, but his technique is that of an assault trooper: sharp, chopping, merciless. He despises tactics, considering them tricks of the weak. His clash with Ming You is a clash of two types of power: crude, physical, against cold, calculated.
His goal is not just to win, but to break Ming You. Humiliate him, make him feel the same helplessness and rage that Jen Ryu himself feels. He sees in Ming You not just a manipulator, but the embodiment of everything he hates: intellectual superiority, secrecy, playing from the shadows. He wants to drag him into the light and crush him in an honest (in his understanding) confrontation. His motive is revenge for trampled dignity, for the feeling that they, the reserve roster, are being played like pawns.
His quirks are his constant inner seething. He cannot stand still, constantly shifts his weight from foot to foot, clenches and unclenches his fists. On the court, he talks to himself, muttering curses or encouraging shouts. Before a decisive shot, he freezes for a second, and an almost animalistic concentration flashes in his eyes, followed by an explosive burst. He is not superstitious; he is simply furious.
In food, he seeks an explosion of flavor and calories. Spicy ramen noodles, double-patty burgers with lots of fat, deep-fried wings, energy drinks. Eats quickly, almost swallowing food, as if rushing back to his anger. His living space is chaos: scattered clothes, empty cans, posters with aggressive graphics. Sleeps in fits and starts; his dreams are likely filled with chases and fights.
…
[Mei Yu in school uniform]
[Mei Yu in basketball uniform]
[Mei Yu in a stylish windbreaker]
A 16-year-old youth, born on September 28, 2004. Height about 170 cm, build lean and harmonious, suggesting endurance and coordination rather than strength. His face is that of a calculating observer: delicate features, attentive dark copper-colored eyes that rarely reveal inner emotions. Dark brown hair is neatly styled; even after practice, he tries to look collected.
He dresses with style but without challenge. Quality, understated streetwear: dark windbreakers, well-fitting chinos or joggers, expensive but not flashy sneakers. His appearance suggests a desire for order and control over the impression he makes. He looks like a young man who knows his worth and doesn't intend to lower it. His basketball jersey number is 7.
For Mei Yu, basketball is an interesting but not central part of life. It's a social elevator, a way to stay in shape, and possibly gain an advantage. He joined the team as a talented amateur, but without fanaticism. His position is small forward, a sniper. He has a good long-range shot and the ability to find position to receive the ball, but more often than not he plays as a passer. His game is smart but lacks fire; he passes when it's advantageous and shoots when confident. He sees the whole absurdity of the situation with Ming You not as a tragedy but as a serious risk management problem.
His goal is to minimize damage to himself. He is a pragmatist to the core. He doesn't burn with the desire to "save the team" or "break the system." He wants to get out of this story with his skin intact, without debts and without the attention of gangsters. He considers Ming You's proposal exclusively from a probability analysis standpoint: what's the chance of winning? What are the consequences of losing? What's worse — playing by the old rules or the new ones? He supports So Ho not out of solidarity, but because he seems the most adequate risk assessor. His underlying motive is self-preservation and preserving his comfortable, predictable world.
His quirks are his cold calculation. He rarely shows emotion on the court (if Ming You isn't on the court), his face is a mask of concentration. Before a shot, he makes a barely noticeable pause, as if loading the latest data into his brain: distance, angle, fatigue. He doesn't engage in bickering, preferring to observe and draw conclusions. In stressful situations, he starts counting mentally to calm his pulse.
In food, he is selective and follows healthy eating principles, but without So Ho's fanaticism. Fish, chicken, plenty of vegetables, grains. Can allow himself a good steak or dessert. Eats unhurriedly, with dignity. His room is a model of organization: modern minimalism, everything in its place, a laptop and a financial calculator on the desk. He sleeps 8 hours; his dreams are likely logical and structured like spreadsheets.
…
[Xiao Li in school uniform]
[Xiao Li in basketball uniform]
[Xiao Li in a sweater]
A 16-year-old youth, born on December 14, 2004. The most ordinary-looking: average height, unremarkable build. His face is that of an ordinary teenager, but his brown eyes lack naivety; there is a weary, premature awareness. He looks not like a child who got into trouble, but like an adult tired of it. Hair is light, cut short.
He dresses warmly and comfortably, without pretense: simple sweaters, jeans, a waterproof jacket. His appearance suggests a desire for anonymity and protection from the outside world, which turned out colder than he thought. His basketball jersey number is 15.
For Xiao Li, basketball was once a simple hobby. Now it is hard labor, a prison with a ball. He possesses no outstanding talents; he is just one of many. His position — he does what he's told. He's not a sniper, not a tactician, not a battering ram. He is a functional unit, a body on the court. His game is the execution of duties without enthusiasm and without mistakes, as much as possible. He no longer believes in the team's high ideals and long ago stopped seeing basketball as a game. For him, it's another proof that the world is unfair and cruel.
His goal is to survive. Not to win, not to succeed, not to prove. Just to wait until this nightmare is over and try not to break completely. He is not naive; he is cynically realistic. He doesn't ask unnecessary questions because he knows the answers will only be worse. He supports So Ho's decision not out of faith in success, but because any movement is better than paralysis. His underlying state is resignation, a bitter acceptance of his role as a victim in someone else's game. He hates Ming You not with the fierce hatred of Jen Ryu, but with the quiet, all-consuming hatred of one who has been stripped of his last illusions.
His quirks are his silent detachment. He rarely speaks, and when he does, it's brief and to the point. On the court, he moves economically, without unnecessary movements, as if trying to conserve energy. He has no rituals, only the habit of taking a deep, almost painful breath before a game, as if preparing to dive into cold water. He is not superstitious; he is simply tired.
In food, he is unpretentious to the point of asceticism. Eats what is given, often skips meals, losing his appetite due to stress. Prefers simple, warm food: soups, porridge. His room is ascetic and impersonal, like a hotel room. There are no traces of hobbies or personality, only the bare necessities. He sleeps restlessly, often waking up in the middle of the night, and his dreams, if he remembers them, are empty and silent, like an abandoned gym.