"Why are these guys all built like walking refrigerators? Guess that's what you'd expect from USA's national team players."
Li Wenyu quietly sized up Nash's group, muttering under his breath.
As a gym enthusiast, Li Wenyu worked out almost every day, which made him one of the most physically impressive players on the China national team.
But compared to these monsters, his physique suddenly felt… average.
During warm-ups, Justin Silver casually grabbed the ball with one hand and unleashed a thunderous tomahawk dunk. The rim rattled with a loud clang, and the entire arena let out a collective gasp.
Seeing a two-meter-plus, two-hundred-plus-pound tank of a man brutalize the rim — That was an experience in itself.
Kota leisurely dribbled the ball back and forth to get a feel for it, watching the smug expression on Silver's face. He couldn't help but curl his lips.
"Showing off for intimidation, huh? Annoying."
"Captain, catch!"
Before his words even finished, Kota fired a fast bounce pass straight to Li Wenyu.
Li Wenyu froze for a moment, clearly confused—until Kota jerked his chin toward Silver. Only then did Li Wenyu suddenly understand.
His eyes sharpened. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Silver's hulking frame and refused to be outdone. He raised his arm, exploded forward with an aggressive power dribble, and sprinted toward the hoop before launching himself upward.
His impressive athleticism made high-difficulty dunks almost effortless.
Mid-air, Li Wenyu arched his body slightly backward and hammered down a vicious pull-back dunk.
CLANG!
In terms of impact, it was no weaker than Silver's.
The crowd responded immediately, cheering wildly as their own player stepped up to put on a show.
Silver clicked his tongue, grabbed a ball, and prepared to answer with another dunk of his own — clearly displeased that Li Wenyu had earned more applause.
But right then, the official referee assigned by the China Basketball Association blew the whistle, interrupting warm-ups.
He gestured toward both teams to approach the center circle. The meaning was obvious: time for tip-off.
Nash crossed his arms and smirked. "Go on, Silver. Show these frogs in a well what real world-class talent looks like."
Meanwhile, Kota slapped his own center on the backside like a coach calming a nervous horse.
"Relax. It's just a scrimmage. Just play your best."
But Silver's intimidating appearance had already shaken the chinese center before tip-off even began. Fortunately, Kota quietly activated his "Motivational Aura" while speaking, helping the big man regain a bit of confidence.
"I… I'll do my best!"
The referee stepped to the center circle.
"The match will be two quarters, ten minutes each. No overtime if tied, and no free throws for fouls."
He repeated the same instructions in English for Nash's team.
Once both sides were in place, the referee brought the whistle to his lips.
BEEP—
With that, the scrimmage between USA and China officially began.
"Hup!"
Silver sprang upward like a compressed spring. The moment the ball reached its peak, he snatched it effortlessly.
Kota backed up quickly, observing USA's offensive setup. He already knew winning a tip-off against Silver would require someone like Murasakibara…
Meanwhile in the stands, Xiao Gao sat beside Ebi, staring at Silver without blinking, nervously clutching the hem of his shirt.
"Screen up!"
Nash initiated the offense at the high post. With Kota defending him tightly, Nash immediately called for a pick-and-roll.
Eagle Nation's basketball philosophy revolved around physicality.From point guard to center, every single one of them was built like a tank.
Feeling the pick-setter crash into him like a brick wall, Kota instantly slid back and maneuvered around the screen, returning to cut Nash off.
"Hm?"
From the bench, Kevin Kelly leaned forward. Just from the footwork Kota used to slip the screen, he already noticed something interesting.
"This kid's got something… But let's see if his on-ball defense is really as strong as Nash claims."
On court, with the pick failing, Nash gestured for an iso. Facing Kota's compact defensive stance, his eyes sharpened.
Belial's Eye.
A dark aura burst forth. Nash accelerated sharply, performing a quick, clean crossover, aiming to blow past Kota's left side.
From their earlier one-on-one, Nash knew fancy tricks wouldn't work. The best way to attack Kota… was with pure speed and power.
With his superior athleticism, Nash successfully gained a step. A grin spread across his face.
"This is my point!"
Except… it wasn't.
Kota didn't try to body up. Instead, he stepped back, slipped behind Nash, and executed a risky behind-the-back steal—cleanly knocking the ball loose.
It rolled across the floor, where Zhou Yi dove for it and immediately pushed it ahead to Li Wenyu, who finished the fast break.
China scores first!
"Good! Good! Good!"
Coach Hailao shouted three times in excitement. Kota's opening steal lit up the entire arena.
After the score, Li Wenyu celebrated with Kota and Zhou Yi, excitement all over his face.
"We actually scored against the number one team in the world! This feels amazing!"
Before he could celebrate too long, Kota slapped the back of his head.
"Get into position. They're coming."
"Oh—right, right!"
Li Wenyu hurried back on defense.
Normally he'd complain about being smacked by Kota, but given the situation—and the fact Kota had just made a huge play—he let it go.
USA's next possession didn't start with Nash. Instead, a bearded player—very stereotypically American-looking—brought the ball up.
Crossing into China's halfcourt, he ignored Zhou Yi and stared straight at Kota, beckoning him forward provocatively.
Huh?
Kota frowned slightly, hands on his hips, not reacting.
Seeing he was ignored, the bearded player called for Nash to screen for him. After a switch, he finally stood in front of Kota.
"Nash says your defense is good. I don't buy it."
He said it with a thick american accent.
Kota glanced at his beard. "I don't know about my defense… but I do know I'm about to steal the ball from you."
The bearded man froze for a second before scowling. He began cycling the ball between his legs, determined to teach Kota a lesson.
But technique mattered. Even if two people used the same move, the pressure it created could be completely different.
If it were Akashi handling the ball, Kota would definitely feel danger. But this guy? Not even close.
After about six or seven seconds of cross-dribbles, the bearded man grew impatient. He cupped the ball during a gather step, preparing to drive—
But Kota had already anticipated everything.
He lunged forward and cleanly stripped the ball right into his own arms.
"You should trim your beard, rookie."
The bearded man's eyes widened in disbelief. He stared down at his empty hands, stunned, until the referee's whistle confirmed China had scored again.
Nash crossed his arms and gave him a mocking look. The bearded player shrank his neck, silent.
At that moment, USA's head coach, Kevin, lazily raised his hand.
"Time out."
Two early turnovers by Nash's team leading to points — Anyone with basic coaching instincts would see something was wrong. And Kevin Kelly was far from basic.
On the other side, when USA called the timeout, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Stopping the world's number one team in the first minute—even in a scrimmage—was worth celebrating.
Kota high-fived teammates, nodded to Coach Sun, and sat down on the bench.
Unlike his ecstatic teammates, Kota narrowed his eyes toward Eagle Nation's bench.He wasn't happy.
Anyone could see USA hadn't taken things seriously yet. They were treating China like children—a vacation scrimmage.
The bearded guy's one-on-one challenge made that clear enough.
But even so, USA would never allow themselves to lose.
The number-one ranked basketball nation losing to a team far below them?
Arrogant white players would never tolerate that.
"So… the real match starts now."