Chapter 007:In the End… It Still Comes Down to Talent, Right?
The next day.
Four in the morning, the sky still dark.
Mirai had already quietly left home and was heading toward the gymnasium of Ōdai Middle School. He had barely slept a wink the night before, his mind set on starting his "effort and sweat" right away.
But since it was too late, he had to suppress his excitement.
Running with his head down through the empty streets, not a soul in sight.
Yet he couldn't help but smile.
Thinking to himself...
He'd never seen Los Angeles at 4 a.m., but at least he'd seen Tokyo at 4 a.m.~
Although it was later pointed out that Kobe only occasionally trained at 4 a.m., the saying still stood as a testament to his hard work throughout his career.
True or not, Mirai thought it was cool.
It's just...
Before, he never had a motivation like "system tasks" to push him.
"Let's run, consider it a warm-up~"
...
Soon, as he reached the gymnasium entrance, his body was already lightly sweating. Familiar with the routine, he slipped in through the window and began his preparations. The system's task was to make 1,000 three-point shots. But if he got too tired later, his accuracy would surely drop, so he estimated he'd need to attempt over 3,000 shots.
After pushing out all the basketballs from the club's storage,
He took a deep breath.
Opened the video material in the system...
Bzz—!
A phantom figure, identical to Mirai and wearing jersey number 12, appeared simultaneously on the court.
"Must match the movements in the video and make the shot for it to count..." Mirai grabbed a ball, leaped lightly, stretched his body mid-air, and flicked his wrist gently!
Swish!
Three-pointer made.
At the same time, two lines of numbers appeared in his mind:
[999]
[11:59]
Clearly,
The first number showed he had completed one shot—one less toward the goal of 1,000 threes. The latter... a countdown? It couldn't be 12 minutes to make this many shots...
So...
12 hours?
There was a time limit!
Realizing this, a bit of excitement faded from Mirai's heart, replaced by urgency. He grabbed another ball and shot again.
Swish!
Another three-pointer made.
He then attempted ten consecutive shots, making six of them.
Having a higher shooting accuracy in practice than in games is normal for any player. Even those known for poor free-throw shooting, like Howard in the later stages of his career, who had a game free-throw percentage of just over 60%, could occasionally hit 90% in practice.
...
Half an hour later.
Mirai checked his progress:
[895]
[11:20]
On one hand, he had to maintain the same posture as in the "material," while on the other, he had to focus on precision. As a result, after over three hundred attempts, he had only completed one-tenth of the task, and his subsequent accuracy had noticeably declined.
His brows furrowed tightly as he slowly shook his head. His gaze drifted toward the mission's countdown timer, the red numbers mercilessly ticking away. After a moment of contemplation, Mirai thought to himself, since accuracy was bound to falter, he might as well go all out on speed!
Jump, shoot!
Clang~!
Without a doubt, a three-point brick!
Second shot!
Clang~!
Another miss.
However, the interval between this shot and the previous one was noticeably much shorter, as if he were being chased by the countdown timer, shooting frantically like in the NBA All-Star Three-Point Contest!
Third shot—still a miss.
Yet, Mirai showed no trace of discouragement. It wasn't until the fifth shot that a "swish" sound finally echoed—he had made a three-pointer.
Shooting at such a rapid pace meant sacrificing adjustment time, relying solely on muscle memory for accuracy. With a success rate of only twenty percent, the number of shots required to complete the task would significantly increase.
But...
As his physical stamina declined, his accuracy was destined to drop anyway. At this point, striving for precision was meaningless.
Clang~!
Clang~!
Clang~!
Clang~!
Clang~!
A series of clanging sounds reverberated through the empty gym, occasionally punctuated by the swish of a three-pointer sinking through the net. Mirai's training clothes were already drenched in sweat, steam rising from his head, and his breathing grew increasingly labored.
Yet, he never paused for even a moment.
Gradually, the sky outside the window began to brighten. Mirai was now exhausted and panting heavily, but he couldn't stop—because in his mind, the relentless countdown never ceased.
...
After what felt like an eternity of practice, Mirai quickly glanced at the mission progress displayed in his mind.
[702]
[9:53]
Good. At this rate, he would definitely be able to complete the mission smoothly!
He paused briefly, taking several deep, gasping breaths.
Just then, the gym door creaked open slowly.
A tall figure stepped inside.
It was Captain Imatsu Shinshu.
His eyes fell on Mirai, and a flicker of surprise crossed his gaze. On previous rest days, Mirai usually arrived for practice around eight, just like him. But judging by Mirai's sweat-soaked appearance now, it was clear he had been training for quite some time.
Seeing how intensely focused Mirai was, Shinshu decided not to interrupt.
He quietly sat down to the side and watched intently.
Soon, his expression turned rather peculiar, gradually shifting to wide-eyed astonishment as he watched Mirai rapidly firing off shots from beyond the three-point line alone.
How should he put it...?
Extremely inaccurate.
But...
So intense!
It was just a solo shooting drill, yet Mirai made it look like a life-or-death struggle!
Shinshu: "!"
"Recently I've found that as long as I practice three-pointers desperately, enough that... well... when the feeling comes, I can shoot particularly accurately..."
Is this what he meant?
Indeed...
At this frequency, it's truly an unimaginable amount of practice.
But the more Shinshu thought about this practice session's shooting percentage, the more unreasonable it seemed. However, seeing Mirai's intensely focused and desperate demeanor, he didn't dare speak up, just kept watching with a peculiar expression.
Until...
When he saw Mirai's countless missed balls scattered across the floor, when he saw Mirai picking up balls anywhere beyond the three-point line and shooting from wherever—even from midcourt or the center line without hesitation...
He finally became certain.
Such bizarre practice methods.
Yet capable of producing that terrifying accuracy from yesterday's game.
When it comes down to it...
It still comes down to natural talent, doesn't it?