Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

The car was silent as they drove to the National court. As much as they were nervous about meeting the pro-players for the Global Games, they were also anxious about the strong force in their car—that, being Ashley. "Was she always this scary?" Zheng asked. Jimmy shrugged. "She's a tame version of my dad." Zheng felt a shiver run down his spine. "That doesn't make it any better." "I heard she's super smart, too," Jian said. "She made the list," Jimmy sighed, already having enough of the other players. "The list?" Max said loudly, earning a glare from Ashley. He gulped and turned to Jimmy once more. "The list? The ranking list that we have?" he asked in a much softer voice this time. "Yes," Jimmy said. "Dang, that's hot," Max muttered, earning weird looks from the other players. "No wonder she has such a strong aura," Kai chimed in, causing Jimmy to roll his eyes. Kai frowned. "Do you have a problem with me?" Jimmy merely clicked his tongue and glanced out of the window, not bothering to answer Kai. Kai's frown deepened. Somehow, he already knew that Jimmy didn't like him all that much. In fact, aside from Zheng, the other three didn't leave a good first impression on him. It felt like Max underestimated him when they first met. On the other hand, Jian was just too cocky and nonchalant for his liking. However, Kai had come to realize that this was just their personalities. They had gotten better over the months, and he now knew how to interact with them. It seemed like Jian was opening up, too. Although, he still probably felt bitter about their loss. Jimmy, on the other hand, couldn't make it more obvious that he hated Kai. "Hey, I asked you something," Kai said in a much louder voice this time, capturing Ashley's attention once more. The other boys pursed their lips, knowing they would get scolded this time. However, as soon as Ashley saw that it was Kai who spoke, she quickly focused her gaze on the front, making Max frown. "Weird," he muttered. "Don't tell me—" "I don't want to talk about this anymore," Jimmy said, interrupting Max. Kai turned to glare at Jimmy, who still wasn't looking at him. Zheng, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Are we going to meet the players now?" he asked, making his voice loud enough so Ashley could hear. Fortunately, Ashley wasn't too annoyed at the question. "Yes," she responded, turning around while scrolling on her tablet. "Mr. Johnny Wang is already there and has told the players about your arrival." "Oh," Max muttered. "Are they receiving it well?" he asked, genuinely curious. "That's a question I cannot answer at the moment," Ashley responded. "However, rest assured that we will do our best to combine the groups together. At the end of the day, this is for our country." The boys nodded in agreement. Just then, Max asked a question that he had been dying to ask. "Umm, how old are you?" he asked. Ashley turned to her with a frown. "24," she answered. "Why?" Max smiled at her. "Do you want to date an 18-year-old, by chance?" Ashley's face turned red—however, it wasn't because of shyness but because of anger. The other boys turned to Max in panic. "He's joking!" Zheng quickly said, trying to salvage the situation. *** The national-level court stretched wide, its polished wood shining under the floodlights. Banners of past champions hung proudly from the rafters, a reminder of the legacy that was on the line for every team stepping onto this hallowed ground. Johnny Wang, dressed in a tailored suit, stood near the sidelines. As he adjusted the cuffs of his suit, he turned to the group of men behind him. "They'll be arriving in a few minutes," he said. Without waiting for a response, he strode off, his footsteps echoing against the hard floor. The group left behind—a team of professional players—watched him leave before exchanging glances. The oldest of the group, a broad-shouldered man with a slight limp, crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "High schoolers," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Are we babysitting now? What's next, a daycare league?" Another man, younger but equally imposing, snorted as he spun a ball on his finger. "Probably. Maybe we should teach them how to tie their shoes first. Don't want them tripping over their laces during warm-ups." The others chuckled, though the laughter sounded malicious. A lanky guard with sharp cheekbones leaned against the bench, twirling a towel in his hand. "I heard one of them is supposed to be some kind of prodigy. What do they call him? The 'Mad Dog' or something? Sounds like a discount action figure." "Yeah, well," the broad-shouldered veteran cut in, "if he's the dog, we're the kings. And I don't remember inviting anyone to our throne room." This earned another round of laughter, louder this time. "But seriously," another voice chimed in, this one belonging to a forward with an unkempt mop of hair. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "What's the point? It's not like they're gonna teach us anything. We've been doing this for years." A lean center, who'd been silent until now, cracked his knuckles loudly. "They're probably here to 'challenge' us," he said, air quotes included. "Prove they've got what it takes to hang with the big boys. I mean, it's cute, right? Like a puppy trying to bark at a lion." "Cute?" The veteran scoffed again. "It's annoying, is what it is. We bust our asses to make it to this level, and they waltz in thinking they belong here. They don't even know what pressure feels like. They think the pressure is a final exam or that useless high school level. Wait until they've got an entire country breathing down their necks." "Or a coach screaming at them in five different languages," added the forward with a grin. "Exactly!" The veteran jabbed a finger toward him. "They're not ready for this. And honestly, they shouldn't even get the chance. Not until they've earned it. The court isn't a playground." The younger player spinning the ball finally stopped and held it in his hands, smirking. "I say we put them through the wringer. Make sure they know who they're dealing with. If they want to step onto our court, they better be ready to crawl off it when we're done." The others nodded in agreement, some more enthusiastically than others. The lanky guard tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Think the coaches would notice if we ran them into the ground? Just, you know, by accident." "Depends," the center replied with a shrug. "If they're still conscious, probably." This drew more laughter. The veteran raised a hand, silencing them. His gaze swept across the group, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly tone. "Let's get one thing straight. This isn't charity. We're not here to make friends. If they want to be here, they need to prove they deserve it. And if they don't, well…" He cracked a rare smile, though it was anything but friendly. "We'll make sure they never forget their place."