That anonymous warning text stuck in Zhang Zhaohua's mind like an invisible thorn.
He knew better than anyone how deep LA's waters ran.
His past life taught him that off-court dangers could be more lethal than any on-court battle.
He didn't reply, just deleted the message, though his eyes sharpened with determination.
He had to get stronger faster—strong enough to handle any threat, open or hidden.
Nike's first payment cleared, a considerable sum.
Zhang didn't hesitate, investing most of it into the system the moment it hit his account.
He purchased advanced nutrition supplements to accelerate recovery and unlock potential.
He also unlocked more expensive specialized training modules—"Extreme Fatigue Rebounding Combat" and "High-Pressure Interference Playmaking."
Inside his exclusive training space, lights dimmed to simulate late-night gym conditions.
Virtual opponents were maxed out—strength, speed, aggression all cranked to the limit.
Zhang's muscles ached, sweat blurred his vision, every box-out felt like carrying a mountain.
Rebounds bounced at the most awkward angles, accompanied by vicious virtual contact.
He gritted his teeth, judging and jumping repeatedly, pushing his system-enhanced strength (79) and basic footwork (67) to their limits.
Stamina (74) teetered on the edge, but he didn't stop.
Every successful rebound, every precise pass under simulated pressure.
Physical exhaustion mixed with mental intensity, forging his will.
Lakers practice facility.
During Summer League downtime, Zhang kept grinding individual workouts.
The rhythmic dribbling echoed monotonously.
Nearby, Kobe had just finished shooting, sweat sliding down his chiseled face.
Instead of leaving immediately, he stopped, eyes drifting to that number 5 figure sweating in the corner.
Kobe watched Zhang's footwork, his meticulous completion of every drill, eyes calm with the sharp focus of a seasoned hunter sizing up prey.
He saw focus far beyond his years, and ambition hidden beneath that composed exterior.
Days later, Las Vegas. The Lakers faced their second Summer League opponent—the Denver Nuggets.
Denver's Summer League roster featured one name getting repeated mention—Kenyon Martin II (fictional character representing a physical big man).
A freakish athlete with punishing style, known for ferocious rebounding and defense, a key prospect Denver was evaluating.
Pre-game media sensed drama, hyping this as "Technical Chinese Center" versus "Beast Mode American Big Man."
The Nuggets big man didn't hide his contempt in interviews.
"NCAA numbers don't mean anything. The contact level here is completely different."
"Heard he's got nice footwork? Hope his body can handle my pace without getting broken."
The challenge was obvious.
The opening whistle pierced the air.
Denver's big man charged like a caged animal, targeting Zhang immediately.
He tried bulldozing through the post with a violent spin move, shoulder carrying massive impact toward Zhang's chest.
The collision echoed clearly through the arena.
Zhang's base didn't budge, system strength (79) keeping him planted like a rock.
But he didn't choose to match force.
Past-life experience and system footwork (67) let him shift like a reef, cleverly deflecting most of the impact while maintaining interference, cutting off the key driving lane.
His opponent's power whiffed, balance compromised, nearly turning the ball over.
Courtside scouts' eyes lit up.
This defense wasn't about brute force—it was about brains and technique.
The rebounding battles were fierce.
Denver's big used explosive leaping and length, repeatedly attacking the boards.
Zhang didn't try to match his bounce.
He relied on system-assisted precise positioning, claiming optimal real estate first, lower body strength rooted like a tree.
No matter how much contact he absorbed, he consistently held his space.
When the ball fell, Zhang accurately judged the bounce, long arms extending to secure rebounds that seemed destined for his opponent.
Frustration and defeat crept across the Nuggets big man's face.
On one possession, Denver's center faced up, trying to power through with speed and strength.
He attacked like a small tank charging the rim.
Zhang ghosted laterally, feet precisely blocking the drive path.
Just as his opponent gathered for a forced layup.
Zhang timed it perfectly, unfurling like a net, long arms swinging from the weak side!
"Smack!"
A crisp, clean block!
The ball flew cleanly out of bounds!
Textbook help defense!
The crowd gasped in unison!
Denver's big man stumbled on landing, staring at Zhang in disbelief.
Zhang just gave him a cold glance, no wasted motion.
Offensively, Zhang started operating more from the high post.
Denver's big habitually sagged toward the paint, clearly uncomfortable defending on the perimeter.
Zhang became a command center at the elbow.
A subtle wrist flick sent the ball threading through traffic, finding a cutting teammate perfectly.
Assist!
Next possession, nearly identical.
After drawing defensive attention, a no-look pass found the opposite corner.
Three-pointer! Splash!
His playmaking made Denver's defense choose between evils.
He proved he wasn't just a bruising post player.
Game pace flew by, transitions suffocating.
High-intensity contact steadily drained Zhang's energy.
His breathing deepened, sweat rolling down his forehead, stamina (74) facing serious testing.
But his eyes stayed locked in, feet showing no signs of slowing.
Another successful defensive stop, he grabbed the defensive board with no hesitation, immediately scanning the floor.
His arm whipped forward!
A perfect quarterback-style outlet pass, spanning nearly the full court, directly assisting a fast-break score!
The moment the ball swished through the net.
The system notification chimed in his consciousness.
[Host Compatibility: 0.10% (increased 0.02%)]
[Due to host maintaining high-level defensive judgment and playmaking while near physical limits, Contact Adaptation enhanced]
Warmth flooded his tired body, instantly relieving some of the soreness.
The game entered the final two minutes, score deadlocked, lead changing hands repeatedly.
Every bucket, every stop tugged at everyone's nerves.
Time ticked away relentlessly.
Final 15 seconds, Lakers down 1, but with the last possession!
The arena fell silent enough to hear heartbeats.
The Lakers called timeout.
The assistant coach grabbed his whiteboard, rapid-fire play calling.
All eyes focused on Zhang Zhaohua.
He was still the focal point.
Denver's coach screamed defensive instructions, emphasizing locking down number 5.
Timeout over.
Players returned to the court, faces etched with tension and resolve.
Inbound pass.
The ball found Zhang at the top of the key.
Instantly, Denver's defense crashed toward him like a tidal wave!
Double team! Even a third defender ready to rotate!
The clock began its merciless countdown.
10 seconds...8 seconds...5 seconds...
Every eye in the building, all the pressure, concentrated on one man.
Zhang dribbled once, feeling the ball's texture in his palm.
His eyes quickly scanned teammate positions and the airtight defense surrounding him.
Time was running out.
Attack the double team directly, or find that tiny passing window through the chaos?
Crushing pressure felt tangible, weighing heavy on his shoulders.
He had to decide.
Now! Immediately!