"Wang, you're going in for the second half. Sub for Zhou Yi."
…
"Uh — Coach, me?"
Wang pointed to himself, disbelief written all over his face.
As a rookie who had only recently joined the national team, Wang knew he didn't have anywhere near Kota's level yet. He had mentally prepared himself to sit, learn, and maybe start playing next year.
Not to mention, Zhou Yi hadn't done badly in the first half. Sure, Bowen bullied him on defense, but offensively he still knocked down several open shots.
That's exactly why the sudden substitution made Wang panic a little.
Kota, standing nearby, stroked his chin thoughtfully when he heard Sun's decision.
He had already witnessed Wang's defensive potential back in the youth national team. With proper training, his ceiling wouldn't be low at all.
Zhou Yi patted Wang's shoulder and grinned.
"If Coach says you go, then you go. You planning to rebel against your coach now?"
"And besides, this is just a practice game. Everyone needs a chance to get some experience, right?"
Hearing that, everyone stared at Zhou Yi in surprise — even Kota looked at him in a new light. No matter the situation, generous words always win people over.
Since you're so generous, you won't mind if Wang plays better than you, right?
Kota opened his system panel discreetly. In the talent list, the shared "Zone" mode icon was faintly glowing.
He already knew who he would share it with.
Compared to USA, their own country's big men lacked not only technical refinement but also raw physical talent—both crucial for interior battles.
As for their captain, Li Wenyu — although his physical tools allowed him to score multiple times in the first half — his offensive repertoire was limited.
And since Kota already controlled most of the offense, sharing Zone mode with Li Wenyu would be unnecessary.
So the most suitable candidate… was Wang.
At this moment, Zhou Yi still didn't realize the seriousness of things. Sitting with one leg over the other, he watched his teammates walk onto the court, not a hint of worry on his face.
If someone told him right now: "Wang is about to perform extremely well—so well he might threaten your starting spot," Zhou Yi would 100% flip them off and yell "Impossible!", followed by a dramatic retelling of how he had trained since he was five years old.
Give him some credit — he had played against USA for an entire half. He knew exactly how strong they were.
Their tight teamwork, the individual talent of each player—no way a rookie like Wang could withstand their pressure. Zhou Yi refused to believe it.
And, unsurprisingly, the first few possessions of the second half were a disaster for Wang. He kept losing his man, and Bowen scored on him twice in a row.
Only three minutes into the half, the point gap had already grown to 12.
Kota frowned at the scoreboard. He had activated the shared Zone for Wang as soon as the half began, but the kid's performance was awful.
Not only was his defense lacking, but on offense he wasn't able to assist Kota at all.
Judging by these first possessions… Wang was performing worse than Zhou Yi.
On the bench, Sun felt his patience wearing thin.Even in a practice game, he didn't want to hand England a free win.
"Zhou Yi."
"Here!"
Sun glanced at Wang stumbling around on the court like he was sleepwalking.
"Warm up."
"Yes, sir!"
Zhou Yi perked up instantly, stretching smugly on the bench.
"Just as I expected! I look generous AND get extra rest time. In the second half, I'll carry the team myself — just watch!"
During Zhou Yi's stretching routine, Kota created an opening and passed the ball to Wang.
But maybe it was nerves from earlier mistakes… Or maybe it was the infamous rookie wall…
Because faced with a completely wide-open shot, Wang threw up a full-on airball.
The entire arena gasped. A chorus of groans echoed around the stands. Clearly, people were not pleased with that shot.
Wang himself looked horrified.His face burned with shame as he jogged back on defense, head hung low.
"Please… someone… anyone… sub me out…"
Jogging with his head down, Wang didn't even dare look at his teammates.
"Wang"
The sudden call made Wang flinch. He stopped in his tracks and turned—Kota was standing right in front of him, expression unreadable.
On the other side of the court, Nash noticed the moment and turned his eyes toward Kota.
Bowen walked up beside him, snickering.
"That defensive weirdo is definitely about to chew him out. He's been playing half-asleep. And that airball? Man, that was hilarious."
Nash didn't reply. He simply watched Kota quietly.
Wang spoke first, ashamed. "I'm sorry… I don't know why—"
"Why are you apologizing?"
Before he could finish, Kota waved him off. He wrapped an arm around Wang's shoulder and leaned in.
"Listen. No matter how you play out there, no one on this team will blame you. Not me. Not Coach Sun. The only thing waiting for you after the game is more practice — not a public scolding."
Wang stared blankly, temporarily forgetting everything else.
Kota continued—there was no timeout, and England was about to inbound the ball. He had seconds to finish.
"You're a rookie. You're allowed to make mistakes. What you can't do is curl up and run away. You adapt, find your rhythm, and then show your best. Win this game with us."
Wang wanted to say, You're a rookie too—how come you don't make mistakes? But he wisely kept that thought to himself.
Instead, he said, "What should I do, Kota? Teach me."
Motivational Speech
He looked at Wang's earnest expression and patted his head.
"That bearded guy you're guarding—his fundamentals are indeed solid. But trust me, his moves have flaws."
Kota pointed toward Bowen at the top of the key, speaking mysteriously.
Wang asked quickly, "What flaw?"
Kota paused for two seconds, then said:
"I can't explain it perfectly. But remember the opening where I stole the ball straight from him?"
"Just trust me. You'll see it."
Wang repeated under his breath, "Trust you… there's a flaw…"
"I got it. Thank you, Kota."
He glanced toward Bowen, his fear replaced by determination.
Kota nodded with satisfaction and returned to his defensive position.
USA's possession.
Nash repeated his pattern—dribbling combo, sprint to the corner. Kota had no choice but to follow, respecting Nash's shooting threat.
Nash rested his hands on his knees and smirked.
"Are you sure about this? If you don't go help your teammates, this game's gonna be over soon."
Kota didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the top of the arc.
There, Bowen had called for isolation on Wang again.
Seeing Kota ignore him, Nash taunted louder:
"Hey—don't tell me you've given up already? What are you doing over here with me then? I've got teammates. You've got… four idiots?"
Still no response. Kota calmly watched the 1-on-1 unfold.
Bowen dribbled through his legs repeatedly — his trademark rhythm — adding little foot fakes as he taunted Wang.
"With a walking ATM like you, they still trust you on defense?"
"If I were you, I'd beg Coach for a sub by now. Staying in the game only drags your team down. Why bother?"
Bowen suddenly accelerated, attacking Wang's front foot.
"Sorry, kid—another easy bucket!"
Seeing the empty lane before him, Bowen smirked. A single step was all it took to leave Wang behind.
But as he leapt to finish—
A shadow rose behind him.
Bowen's instincts screamed. Years of experience told him: This shot is getting blocked!
Panicking mid-air, he contorted and switched hands, throwing a desperate reverse layup.
"Heh, see? Now you can't—"
Before he could even finish the brag—
He saw Wang's face right behind him. Eyes locked on the ball. As if he had predicted the switch from the start.
SMACK!
The sound echoed like a gunshot. The ball was swatted violently out of bounds.
For a moment, the entire arena went silent.