"Hey, did you hear? That famous streetball team from the USA is coming here for an exhibition game!"
"Of course I did! The Jabberwock! Their captain, Nash, is actually on the USA national team now!"
Early morning. A university campus.
As the first-period bell rang, students streamed toward their classrooms, chatting along the way.
A sharp-eyed young man with a book tucked under his arm passed by the crowd, catching fragments of their conversation.
That man—was none other than our reliable Kasamatsu-senpai.
Hearing the talk, Kasamatsu didn't show much reaction outwardly, but inside, something stirred.
"The Jabberwocks, huh? I remember hearing about them a lot back in high school. They're coming here for an exhibition? Maybe I should check it out…"
He rubbed his nose, a bit tempted—but soon lowered his hand and looked down at the textbook clamped under his arm, sighing.
"Eh… forget it. I've got next month's exams to worry about. Time to focus. I've already graduated from Kaijo, after all."
Kasamatsu scratched the back of his head, looking a little defeated. For someone so strict and disciplined about manners and order, he had one glaring weakness—academics.
As he walked toward his next class, mentally debating whether to hit the library later for some extra studying, his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.
"Hello? This is Kasamatsu."
"Kasamatsu. This is Kagetora Aida. Not sure if you know who I am."
"Kagetora Aida? As in… Coach Riko's father, from Seirin?
Kasamatsu froze, then answered cautiously."
"Ah—yes. I know you. What can I do for you?"
On the other end, reclining lazily in a large office chair, Kagetora smirked at the polite tone. He didn't reveal his reason right away.
"Heh, as expected from Kaijo's former captain. Sharp on the uptake. Let me guess—you probably recognized me back when you played against my daughter's team, didn't you?"
Kasamatsu chuckled modestly.
"No, sir. You're being too humble. You were famous long before that. I knew your name back when you played for Japan's national team."
He glanced at his watch — class was about to start.
"Coach Aida, I'm sorry to rush, but is there something you needed?"
Kagetora laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the flattery. His gaze shifted toward the computer screen in front of him — a poster featuring the Jabberwocks. His tone dropped slightly.
"Seems like you're in a hurry, Kasamatsu, so I'll get to the point."
"There's an exhibition game this weekend. You interested… in playing point guard?"
…
…
Name: Kota
Height: 183 cm
Wingspan: 182 cm
Weight: 79 kg
Standing Reach: 235 cm
Max Vertical (with run-up): 308 cm
...
Inside the Chinese National Youth Team's training gym, Sun frowned as he studied the freshly printed athletic data sheet.
Beside him stood two men — the seasoned veteran Ebi, and the current captain of China's men's team, Li Wenyu.
"Tsk… Coach Sun" Li said, clicking his tongue. "This kid's physical stats look pretty average."
It was true. For a high school-level player, Kota's athletic ability was exceptional — but for the professional stage, it was… mediocre.
Especially the 308 cm vertical reach. That number said it all: in a proper, physical match, Kota would barely be able to dunk.
Sun cast Li a look but didn't reply. His expression said enough.
Even with Ebi personally vouching for the boy, those numbers weren't easy to ignore. On paper, it was hard to believe Kota could become any sort of savior for Chinese basketball.
But Ebi didn't look worried. He'd met Kota months ago — and he knew exactly where the kid's real strength lay.
"Well, stats are stats," Ebi said casually, patting Li's shoulder. "If you're not convinced, why don't you find out yourself? He's right there — go challenge him to a one-on-one."
Li's eyes lit up with interest, though he hesitated for a moment. Instead of charging right away, he turned toward Sun — clearly asking for permission.
Sun nodded. He wanted to see this for himself — the player his mentor seemed so sure about.
The moment he got approval, Li broke into a grin. He tossed off his jacket, revealing the national team jersey underneath, his name printed across the back.
"Alright then" he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let me see what my future right-hand man's really made of."
And with that, he strode toward the court where Kota was warming up with jump shots.
Ebi stroked his chin as he watched the captain's back disappear across the gym.
"Heh… guess I really am getting old," he muttered with a nostalgic smile. "Back in my day, the boys wouldn't even think twice before following my word. Now they've got to check with you first, huh?"
Years ago, when Ebi was still the head coach of the national team, his words had carried the weight of law.
Sun simply smiled, shaking his head. He could tell his old mentor was teasing him, so he didn't bother responding.
Ebi chuckled softly. Seeing his student fully in command of the national squad made him proud — not bitter. He had no interest in pulling rank.
"That's what a coach should be" he said thoughtfully, eyes following Kota on the court. "If you can't earn complete trust and control from your team, you're not doing your job."
Then, after a pause, his tone deepened.
"But remember this, Xiao Sun — choosing goes both ways. While you're evaluating him… he's evaluating you, too."
"Keep that in mind. I heard that kid Kota had quite a bit of authority in the Japanese team he played for."
Sun's eyes widened slightly. He turned his gaze back to Kota — now studying the boy with newfound seriousness.
...
"Let's go with eleven points, yeah? Just a friendly game — no need to stress."
Li gave Kota a firm pat on the shoulder, playing the big brother role perfectly.
Kota licked his lips and nodded.
"Wait, you actually understand Mandarin?" Li blinked. He distinctly remembered Sun telling him this kid came from Japan and didn't really know the local customs — he was supposed to help the foreigner settle in.
Kota nodded again. "A little."
"You can speak it too?"
"A little."
"Well, that makes things way easier!" Li grinned. "I'm Li Wenyu — captain of the national team. What should I call you, bro?"
"Kota."
Kota's tone was curt, his words slightly stiff — playing up the foreign accent just enough to make it believable.
"Okay, okay! Then let's get started. Eleven points, you take the first ball."
Li tossed the ball to Kota and waved casually, a confident grin spreading across his face.
As the captain and small forward of the national team, Li Wenyu was a physical powerhouse — 192 centimeters tall, with a 195 wingspan. His explosive athleticism was elite; in games, he was the guy who could dunk five or six times a night without breaking a sweat.
In a one-on-one match where physical ability meant everything, Li figured he had the upper hand before the ball had even bounced once.
"Let's show this foreign rookie who's boss. Makes it easier to keep him in line later."
He loosened his legs, lowering his stance slightly, the smug confidence of a seasoned veteran all over his face.
Kota caught the ball but didn't attack immediately. He glanced toward Sun and Ebi, as if weighing something in his mind.
Then, with a calm breath, his focus snapped back to Li. Strangely enough, their thoughts matched perfectly in that moment.
"I should show them a little something, just so they know who they're dealing with."
Kota adjusted his shorts slightly, clearly not planning to hold back.
Li, unaware of the storm about to hit him, beckoned with one hand, still wearing that confident smirk.
Then — in the blink of an eye — a blur of white flashed across the court.
Li Wenyu's grin froze.
— — —
Five minutes later, Li Wenyu sat on the floor, staring into the void, questioning every decision that had led him to this point.
Behind him, the basketball bounced lazily on the hardwood — thump, thump, thump — before rolling to a stop.
On the sidelines, Sun's jaw was hanging so wide a whole watermelon might've fit in there. He looked at Kota — who was now helping Li Wenyu up with a friendly smile — as if he'd just witnessed an alien invasion.
11–0.
Kota had completely shut out the national team captain.
"Told you," Ebi said smugly, crossing his arms. "I said this kid was special, didn't I?"
Still, a bead of sweat slid down his cheek.
"Wait a second... he's gotten even better?"
Ebi tapped his cane thoughtfully on the ground, narrowing his eyes as he studied Kota's calm, almost modest stance.
"Could it be… basketball really isn't just a giant's game?"
He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
"Well, whatever he is, he's ours now. Though, if this keeps up... calling him the cornerstone of the team might've been an understatement."
He smirked, muttering under his breath:
"Yeah... definitely worth watching closely."