Chapter 45: Evolutionary Skill – Magic Shadow!
["Ding! Congratulations to the host for raising your overall score to A+! You've earned a skill evolution opportunity!"]
["Warning: Once a skill is evolved, it cannot be reverted. Please choose carefully!"]
Sure enough, the system's mechanical voice echoed in Chen Yan's mind the next second.
A list of his current skills popped up—this time, each with a plus sign next to them:
[God-level Steal +]
[Answer Crossover +]
[Phantom Step +]
[Hot Start (Passive) +]
[Perfect Hand Form (Passive) +]
Just like adding stat points in a video game, Chen Yan could evolve any of these skills with a tap of the "+" icon.
Damn, if only I could look up a tier list online, Chen Yan thought. I'd just pick the meta upgrade and go.
But this wasn't a game—and there were no forums, no guides, no YouTube breakdowns. Just instincts.
He narrowed it down to two: [Answer Crossover] and [Phantom Step].
Both were active skills. Both had highlight potential.
"Every NBA star has their go-to move," Chen Yan muttered. "A signature that defines their career. I need one too."
The Answer Crossover was deadly in isolation, perfect for breaking ankles one-on-one. Meanwhile, Phantom Step was more versatile—it could be used in half-court sets, transition plays, and off-ball cuts.
He'd leaned heavily on Phantom Step during March Madness, and it had delivered. That made the choice clear.
He tapped the plus sign next to [Phantom Step].
The icon pulsed, glowing bright.
Three seconds later, the system updated.
[Magic Shadow]
Active Skill
Boosts breakthrough responsiveness by 20%
Enhances first-step explosion by 12%
Increases the chance to freeze defenders (petrification effect) by 10%
Boom.
Chen Yan's eyes lit up.
"Damn… this is clean!" he said, grinning to himself.
It wasn't just an upgrade—it was a legit killer move. Faster first step, better reads, and a higher chance of leaving defenders frozen like statues.
He could already see the headlines: Chen Yan breaks ankles again with Magic Shadow!
---
The Next Morning – Hotel Lobby
"Chen! Yo, how many rounds you go for last night?" DJ Augustin jogged over, smirking wide.
Chen Yan raised an eyebrow. "What? What are you even talking about?"
DJ laughed. "C'mon, man. Check your pocket."
Confused, Chen reached into his hoodie… and pulled out three unopened condoms.
His face flushed instantly. Good thing the lobby was still quiet.
DJ slapped his forehead. "Damn it! I stuffed 'em in your pocket before you left but forgot to tell you!"
Chen shook his head, laughing it off. "It's fine. You probably need them more than I do."
DJ leaned in, teasing, "Wait—you didn't go raw last night, did you? That's risky, bro. But hey, if you and Taylor had a kid, it'd be beautiful as hell."
Chen rolled his eyes. "Man, what the hell are you even thinking? Taylor and I are just friends."
DJ shrugged. "So? Hookin' up with a friend ain't that deep."
Chen was speechless. DJ's mindset was on a whole different wavelength. Culturally, a lot of his Black teammates saw sex as something casual—Chen didn't roll like that.
He handed the condoms back to DJ.
"Nah, keep them. I don't need 'em."
DJ laughed. "Bro, I've got stacks at home. Give them to KD."
Chen smirked and looked over at Kevin Durant. "Yeah, KD probably needs 'em to blow up balloons."
Durant just stared.
"…Really?" he muttered.
The locker room burst out laughing. Even KD cracked a small smile—but the jokes didn't go further. Everyone knew KD could get sensitive if you crossed the line.
Soon, the Texas Longhorns were en route back to school.
As their chartered bus pulled away from the airport, fans lined the streets—40 kilometers of nonstop cheers, flags waving, and signs in the air.
A full police escort led their way, sirens clearing traffic.
It was the kind of welcome you dreamed of growing up. The ultimate homecoming.
Inside the bus, Chen Yan and his teammates leaned out the windows, waving to the fans. Some had on Longhorns championship shirts, others didn't—not because they didn't want to, but because stores were already completely sold out.
A plain, unbranded T-shirt was going for over 20 bucks—and the wild part? People were still snatching them up like crazy.
From shirts to towels to bobbleheads, anything stamped with that championship logo was selling like gold. That's the power of winning it all.
Some fans even got their shirts while they were still warm—straight off the factory line. But nobody cared. Hot or not, they threw them on and showed out for the Texas Longhorns' victory parade. It wasn't about comfort. It was about pride.
The next day, at the Frank Erwin Center...
The University of Texas threw a full-blown championship celebration in their home arena. The place was packed—16,000 capacity, but over 20,000 showed up. Students were climbing fences and pushing against gates, desperate to squeeze in. Security guards had to hold the line just to keep the place from bursting.
When the team walked out to center court, the roar from the crowd was deafening—a damn tsunami of noise.
Players raised the NCAA championship trophy high, soaking in the moment. Chen Yan stepped up and flashed his MOP (Most Outstanding Player) trophy, drawing a fresh round of cheers.
The adrenaline from the win had settled by now. What was left was something deeper—gratitude, pride, and the joy of sharing this moment with their Longhorn family.
After the event, Texas enshrined its first NCAA championship trophy in the school's Hall of Honor.
Chen Yan lingered at the display, his fingers tracing the polished surface of the trophy one last time.
First title of my life, he thought. But it won't be the last.
His next goal? The Larry O'Brien Championship Trophy—the ultimate NBA prize.
It felt like finishing a main quest in a video game and unlocking a whole new level. The road ahead was full of unknowns, but that only fired Chen Yan up more.
---
After the celebration, as the team was winding down in the locker room, Durant approached Chen Yan.
"Yo, Chen. Your agent set up any workouts yet?" KD asked casually.
Chen Yan blinked. "...What agent?"
Durant raised an eyebrow. "You serious?"
"Yeah. Haven't got one."
That made Durant pause. He'd forgotten—Chen Yan didn't get hot until March Madness. Everything had happened fast: the breakout, the tournament run, the draft declaration. Unlike most prospects who had agents locking things down months in advance, Chen was flying solo.
"Damn," KD muttered. "You're moving up in the draft, bro. You should think about getting someone legit to handle that."
Chen Yan nodded. He'd been thinking the same.
Every NBA star had an agent. The good ones didn't just negotiate contracts—they opened doors for endorsement deals, protected your image, and let you focus on your game. That stuff mattered, especially with the big leagues just ahead.
Durant leaned in. "You want me to introduce you to my guy? Goodwin. He handled LeBron's rookie deal. That Nike contract? Dude helped make that happen."
Chen Yan smiled, but shook his head. "Appreciate it, bro. But I'll pass."
He didn't need just any agent—and especially not that agent.
Chen Yan remembered Goodwin all too well. The man knew business, sure. He'd helped LeBron land that record-breaking 7-year, $90 million deal with Nike. But reputation-wise? He was a walking red flag. Ruthless, slippery, and blacklisted by more than a few brands.
And then there was that whole rumor about him and LeBron's mom. Chen Yan didn't need that kind of chaos anywhere near him.
He'd even warned Durant before about keeping his distance—especially with KD's own mom being a single parent. But now that the ink was dry on Durant's contract with Goodwin, there wasn't much to say.
Besides, Chen Yan's phone had been blowing up ever since the draft announcement. Dozens of agents were already calling, messaging, trying to slide into his circle.
He didn't need to chase them.
They were chasing him.
Right now, Chen Yan wasn't just a top prospect—he was a future star, and everybody in the business knew it.
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