2012 · Los Angeles · Training Facility
The next afternoon, the gym was noticeably louder.
More people.
More bodies.
More eyes.
Gu Kai recognized none of them—but he could feel it immediately.
This wasn't yesterday's open tryout.
This was a real run.
The kind where no one went easy,
because no one had to.
"Full court. Winners stay."
the coach said, spinning the ball and tossing it to the baseline.
Gu Kai jogged onto the floor.
Across from him stood a guard about his age—maybe a little shorter, but thick through the shoulders.
Quick feet. Low stance. The kind of player who lived on pressure defense.
The ball checked in.
The game started.
---
The first possession wasn't his.
Gu Kai stayed on the weak side, watching.
The pace was faster than anything he'd felt back home.
Transitions were sharper.
Cuts were harder.
Contact came early—and often.
No one complained.
When the ball finally swung to him, the defender was already there.
Chest close.
Hands active.
Eyes locked on the ball.
Gu Kai didn't rush.
He dribbled once.
Twice.
The defender stayed with him, sliding well.
Then—
Gu Kai shifted his weight.
Just slightly.
The defender reacted.
That was enough.
Gu Kai's first step exploded forward.
Not wide.
Not fancy.
Straight downhill.
The space collapsed instantly. A help defender stepped in.
Gu Kai didn't slow.
He took a second step, his shoulder brushing past contact, and rose.
The hang time surprised even him.
For a split second, the world felt still.
Then he adjusted midair and laid the ball softly off the glass.
Swish.
No whistle.
No call.
Just points.
The defender turned and looked at him.
Not angry.
Confused.
---
Next possession.
They went at him again.
This time, the defender pressed higher, trying to cut off the drive early.
Gu Kai took one hard dribble to the right.
Stopped.
The defender bit—just a fraction.
Gu Kai crossed back left and accelerated.
By the time the defender recovered, Gu Kai was already past him.
Help came late.
Too late.
This time, Gu Kai didn't avoid contact.
He went through it.
He rose, both hands on the ball, and finished with force.
The rim rattled.
The sound echoed.
Someone on the sideline muttered,
"Damn."
The coach didn't react.
But his eyes stayed on Gu Kai.
---
The game continued.
Gu Kai didn't force every possession.
When the defense collapsed, he kicked the ball out.
When they stayed home, he attacked.
He began to feel it—
The rhythm.
Not just speed, but timing.
Not just power, but choice.
Midway through the run, the ball swung back to him again.
Same defender.
But now, the stance was lower.
More cautious.
Gu Kai saw it.
He slowed his dribble.
Waited.
The defender hesitated.
Gu Kai stepped back—not to shoot, but to reset the angle.
Then he went.
One step.
The defender reached.
Missed.
Two steps.
The lane opened.
Gu Kai took off.
This time, he didn't adjust.
He finished above the rim.
The dunk was clean.
Efficient.
Almost casual.
The gym went quiet for half a second.
Then play resumed.
No celebration.
But the tone had changed.
---
When the run finally ended, Gu Kai bent over, hands on his knees, breathing steady.
He wasn't exhausted.
He felt… warm.
Like an engine settling into its optimal range.
The guard he'd been matched up with walked past him and shook his head.
"You're not a point guard,"
he said, half-laughing.
Gu Kai straightened.
"Never said I was."
The coach blew the whistle.
"That's it," he said.
"Same time tomorrow."
Then his eyes landed on Gu Kai.
"And you—"
he paused,
"you run with the first group."
---
As Gu Kai walked off the court, the system interface appeared quietly.
---
[Stage Progress Update]
[Objective: Establish a Label]
[Current Evaluation: In Progress]
[Combat Feedback Detected]
🟣 Trigger Condition Approaching
---
Gu Kai wiped the sweat from his face and looked back at the court.
This wasn't domination.
Not yet.
But it was something far more important.
They weren't testing him anymore.
They were adjusting to him.
And that—
was the beginning.