"Hyuga, hurry up already!"
On the sidewalk, Riko, wearing a sun visor, stood with her hands on her hips, shouting impatiently.
Beside her, Junpei Hyuga, Seirin's captain, slouched with a tired look.
"Relax, Riko. The game doesn't start for a while."
"Idiot, of course I know that!"
Riko crossed her arms and glared at him.
"There'll be tons of people watching live! If we don't get there early, we won't get front-row seats—and then we'll see absolutely nothing!"
Hyuga sighed, his tone helpless. He hadn't even finished waking up before Riko dragged him out of bed for this.
"By the way, this exhibition match ticket shouldn't have been easy to get, right? How'd you even manage it?"
He was genuinely curious. The tickets for the event—featuring the world-famous streetball team Jabberwock—sold out instantly. Even some of Seirin's own players had tried and failed to get one.
And yet, Riko somehow had two.
"They're from my dad," Riko explained, raising one finger. "He wanted to get enough for everyone, but the tickets sold out so fast that even he couldn't get more."
Hyuga nodded in realization."Ah, right. I totally forgot your dad's the coach for the exhibition match."
He scratched his head thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, we haven't seen Coach Kagetora in a while."
As the memory of Seirin's intense training under Riko's father flashed in his mind, Hyuga felt a wave of gratitude. Thanks to that man's guidance, Seirin's skills had leveled up across the board.
"Next time I see him," Hyuga mused aloud, "I should bring a gift. Something to thank him properly."
At that, a faint blush spread across Riko's face.
"A gift… for my dad? Does that mean… Hyuga wants to visit my family?"
For a moment, her heart skipped a beat, thumping wildly in her chest. She opened her mouth, voice trembling slightly.
"Hyuga…"
"Whoa—seriously? There are this many people!?"
Before Riko could get her words out, Hyuga interrupted her, gawking at the crowd ahead.
Riko's expression darkened, her tone half-scolding, half-defeated.
"Geez, can't you let me finish my sentence…"
Then she looked up herself—and froze.
There were hundreds of people surrounding the outdoor court. Most were diehard fans who hadn't managed to get tickets but came anyway, just to catch a glimpse of the legendary Jabberwock.
And some were people with tickets… who still couldn't get in because the entrance was completely blocked.
In short—Hyuga and Riko were in trouble.
"This is bad… How is no one managing this crowd?" Hyuga shaded his eyes, scanning the mass of people for an opening. "If we can just find a gap, maybe we can squeeze—"
He stopped mid-sentence, shivering suddenly.It was the middle of a hot summer day, and yet, for some reason, an icy chill crept up his spine.
"…Weird. Is there an outdoor AC unit here or something?"
He turned his head—and instantly realized his mistake.
Riko stood beside him, her expression shadowed and cold, the earlier blush nowhere to be seen. An almost visible aura of frost surrounded her.
"Hyuga…"Her tone was sweet. Her smile, even sweeter.
And if you ignored the ominous pressure radiating around her, she might have looked downright adorable.
"Didn't I say we had to come early because there'd be a crowd?" she said slowly, stepping closer. "But someone kept dragging his feet… and now look where we are. We can't even get inside."
Her voice softened, but her hand—placed on Hyuga's stomach—began to slide upward until it rested lightly against his collar. For a split second, Hyuga's mind blanked at the unexpected closeness…Then her grip tightened.
"Now, tell me, captain," Riko said with the smile of a horror movie villain, "what exactly should we do next? Because if you can't figure something out…"
She leaned in, still smiling, her voice sugar-sweet."…then I'll take every single one of your precious samurai figurines—smash them into a million pieces—and send them straight to hell, okay~?"
After her cheerful threat, Riko gently straightened his collar like a caring wife fixing her husband's tie. Unfortunately, the warmth of the gesture was completely undercut by the terrifying image still burned into Hyuga's mind.
At that moment, Riko looked less like a high school coach—and more like the devil herself.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!" Hyuga bowed, panic in his voice. "I'll think of something! Just please—spare my figurines!"
Straightening his glasses, he turned back toward the entrance. The crowd hadn't thinned at all, still packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
Hyuga's expression darkened.
"…Damn this exhibition match!"
...
Inside the National Youth Team Training Gym, the air was sharp with tension.
"The internal scrimmage between the National Youth Team and the National Team is about to begin!"
The official referee from the Chinese Basketball Association stood at center court, whistle between his lips, scanning the ten players on the floor.
"The game will have two halves—ten minutes each!"
Though this was just a closed training match arranged by the coaches, the referee didn't plan to slack off. Whether it was a world championship or a simple in-house scrimmage, he took his job seriously.
Even for practice games, the pre-match handshake ritual was still a must.
Wearing a blue training jersey with the number 11, Kota stepped up first to shake hands with Li Wenyu. His tone was polite and composed, just as it had been during their one-on-one the day before.
"Please go easy on me, Captain."
Li gave a dry laugh, cold sweat running down his back.
"Ha-ha, no, no—you go easy on me."
When the handshake ended, Li watched Kota walk away and quietly exhaled.
Just then, one of his teammates leaned in curiously.
"Hey, Captain, who's that guy? Isn't he from the Youth Team? Why's he calling you captain?"
Li Wenyu cast him a side glance.
"He's a recent recruit—scouted overseas by one of the association's talent agents. Just joined two days ago."
"Huh? Two days ago?" the teammate blinked, then smirked.
"So he's brand new… and already calling himself part of the National Team? Cocky, huh?"
Realizing his teammate was getting the wrong idea, Li Wenyu quickly warned,
"Zhou Yi, don't do anything stupid. That guy's not someone you want to mess with."
Zhou Yi grinned, clearly not taking him seriously.
"How do you know that, Captain? Don't tell me—you already faced him before?"
Li Wenyu hesitated. Technically, yes—he had faced Kota.And he'd been completely destroyed. On both ends of the court.
"You have no idea, Zhou Yi. I got demolished. Crushed. Wiped off the map. Just… don't challenge him, for your own good…"
That's what he wanted to say. But what actually came out was a forced chuckle and:
"Not exactly. I just watched his trial session yesterday. He's… got potential."
He rubbed his nose awkwardly, his eyes darting around. Fortunately, Zhou Yi didn't notice the telltale signs of trauma.
Instead, Zhou Yi cracked his knuckles, his grin widening.
"Oh, so he's the hotshot rookie type, huh? Perfect. My favorite kind of warm-up—breaking in a so-called prodigy before he gets too full of himself."
He chuckled to himself, already imagining the scene.
"Captain, what do you think of this line: after I lock him down, I'll say, 'Welcome to the National Team, rookie.' Sounds cool, right? Full of style!"
Li winced. Watching Zhou Yi's smug face filled him with guilt. It felt… like watching someone walk cheerfully into a trap.
"Forget it… I'll just look the other way."
He turned aside, pretending to check something across the court. No point in warning him now.
Why didn't he just tell Zhou Yi the truth? What, and admit he got completely thrashed by a newcomer? No way. That would shred his dignity as captain.
Better to let someone else take the hit. As the saying went—better him than me.
Once both teams took their positions, the referee grabbed the ball and gestured for the centers to step forward for the tip-off.
On the sidelines, Sun and Ebi sat with clipboards in hand, player names neatly listed on the pages.
Even though Kota was already considered a guaranteed future cornerstone for the national program, the coaches still had to identify other key players who could strengthen the roster.
In truth, today's scrimmage wasn't meant to showcase Kota alone. It was about finding balance—discovering which of the young talents could keep up.
Ebio stroked his beard thoughtfully, eyes settling on the nervous figure of Xiao Gao, one of the youth team's rising guards.
"Come on, kid," he murmured under his breath. "Let's see what you've got."