More than ten minutes had passed since the start of the game. The first half was more than halfway over, and things were unfolding quite differently than expected. Ohio State University, despite their formidable lineup, was barely clinging to a slim lead. The scoreboard showed 24–22 in favor of Ohio State, a mere two-point advantage. It was a tighter match than anyone anticipated.
Yang Yan finally began to understand Johnny's earlier warning. Number 30 from Davidson College—Stephen Curry—was no ordinary player. With twelve of Davidson's twenty-two points single-handedly to his name, Curry was proving to be an unstoppable force. His three-point shooting was especially deadly, almost automatic. Every time Ohio State seemed ready to pull ahead, Curry would retaliate with another long-range bomb, dragging Davidson right back into contention.
On the court, Conley advanced past half-court and passed the ball to Yang Yan. Davidson's defensive strategy had shifted—they were collapsing on Oden in the paint, applying heavy pressure to neutralize his impact. Although their defense had previously shown holes, they'd found a crafty workaround: overwhelm Oden to cut off Ohio State's most consistent scoring threat.
Conley recognized this and made a quick decision—shift the offensive burden to Yang Yan.
Yang Yan received the ball near the top of the arc. From beyond the three-point line, he analyzed the defense. Davidson's interior was tightly packed. Not only did this stifle Oden's effectiveness, it also hindered Yang Yan's usual strategy of slashing through the paint.
But Yang Yan wasn't a one-trick player. He gave a deceptive shoulder feint, then surged right. As his defender moved to block his path, Yang Yan cut back sharply in the opposite direction. The defender was left floundering—his ankle-breaking move had worked. It was a technique Yang Yan had been refining, and in the NCAA, it was becoming his secret weapon. Few defenders could keep up with such a swift and fluid directional change.
Instead of taking it all the way to the rim, Yang Yan pulled up and sank a mid-range jumper with confidence. The swish of the net was a satisfying sound, and Ohio State's lead grew to four.
But there was no time to celebrate. Davidson responded instantly with a quick baseline inbound. The ball was in Curry's hands again. He surged down the court solo, came to a sudden halt behind the three-point line, and launched another deep shot.
Swish.
The arena buzzed with disbelief. Curry had closed the gap to just one point. This pattern had repeated several times already in the game. Though Davidson College wasn't stacked with star power, they were persistent—like a shadow that wouldn't disappear.
Frustration began to brew within Ohio State. The tension affected their composure, leading to rushed plays and careless errors. Momentum began to shift toward Davidson.
Coach Gallagher saw the shift and immediately called a timeout. The players gathered around, sweat dripping, faces tight with stress.
"Calm down! Stop rushing things!" Gallagher barked. "You're playing into their hands! Take it one possession at a time. Hill! You're on Number 30 from now on—stick to him like glue!"
His booming voice cut through the haze of panic. The timeout served as a reset—not just tactically, but emotionally. Among those regaining their composure was Yang Yan.
He took a deep breath, locking eyes with Curry across the court. That baby-faced sharpshooter was indeed the real deal. Johnny hadn't exaggerated. Facing Curry firsthand made his talent undeniable.
Suddenly, Yang Yan's vision blurred for a second as a familiar screen materialized before him—his system panel.
[At the age of 35, you will once again face the legendary Stephen Curry on the court.]
[You still remember the bitter defeat to Davidson in college. Curry single-handedly led the underdog team to triumph over you.]
[Throughout that game, you felt nothing but helplessness.]
[Now you understand what true genius looks like.]
[You recall the old Dragon Kingdom tale—a warrior trains for a thousand years to become immortal, only to end up as a nameless foot soldier in the battle against the Monkey King.]
[How many times have you awakened at night, haunted by Curry's three-pointers?]
[New Objective: Defeat Stephen Curry. Break the nightmare of your youth. Rewards will be granted based on mission completion.]
Yang Yan blinked, staring at Curry again. That youthful face now looked sinister in his eyes. Was this guy his demon?
According to the system, without its help, Curry would dominate this game, and Yang Yan would carry the scar forever. Not this time.
Yang Yan clenched his jaw. He wasn't about to let history repeat itself. Curry might be a genius, but Yang Yan had his own tools now. And he wasn't alone—he had a team, a coach, and a mission.
His eyes dropped again to the panel.
Legendary Star.
That same term had appeared once before—when he unlocked the legendary skill of Derrick Rose. Now, Curry too was labeled as such.
Would this baby-faced shooter also go on to NBA superstardom?
Yang Yan didn't doubt it anymore. He was seeing firsthand what greatness looked like.
Still, to meet two future legends in such a short span? The NCAA was turning into a proving ground for titans.
He shook off his thoughts. The system was giving him a chance to rewrite the past, to crush a haunting memory.
No specific tasks—just beat Curry. Win the game. That would be enough.
As the timeout ended, Yang Yan walked up to Conley.
"Man, I'll be spacing out beyond the arc. Let's give Oden some breathing room. Can you get me some clean looks?"
Conley hesitated, eyebrows raised. He knew Yang Yan's reputation—fast, skilled, but not a long-range sniper.
Still, this was the first time Yang Yan had ever made such a request.
Conley nodded.
"Alright. Let's do it."
Something had shifted. Yang Yan wasn't just fighting an opponent. He was facing his past—and rewriting his legacy, one shot at a time.
The battle against Stephen Curry had only just begun.
—End of Chapter 17—