Meanwhile, in the school gym. The silence of the spacious hall was broken only by the occasional voices of the players gathered near the center line. Ming You stood with his arms crossed behind his back, carefully assessing the situation. Around him, the main team gradually assembled.
Only one person was missing.
As soon as the gym door swung open, all eyes turned to Jung Ho as he entered. His usually calm face was now tense. Without wasting a second, he walked straight up to Ming You.
"Ming You, we've got bad news," he said, lowering his voice but still loud enough for the others to hear. "The freshmen formed their own separate team, which means the Yoshido Basketball Club is now split. They even wanted me to be their captain, but I refused."
A heavy silence fell over the gym. But Ming You abruptly shattered it by raising his index finger.
"I already anticipated this when they complained to the coach, which is why I wanted to discuss our plan of action against them."
"Ming You, are you some kind of clairvoyant? Can you predict when I'll get a girlfriend?" Lu Shen asked, tapping his index fingers together.
"In that case, I can be a fortune-teller too, and the heavens say… NEVER!" Haru Lin teased, causing everyone except Ming You to burst into laughter.
Lu Shen turned away from the team in annoyance.
"You bastards!"
"Alright, enough jokes—we've got unfinished business." Ming You clapped his hands and continued, "We'll go to the freshmen—or rather, they'll come to us, since their practice starts in 20 minutes. And when they arrive, we'll challenge them to a game. I'll explain the details once we meet them."
The team nodded silently, their smiles fading into focused expressions. Even Lu Shen stopped sulking and straightened up. Without another word, they all headed to the locker room, preparing for the confrontation. Silence enveloped them again, but this time, it was filled with determination.
Fifteen minutes later, the freshmen entered the locker room. Ming You slowly raised his head and began explaining his plans. His voice was calm, almost monotonous, but his eyes gleamed with cold calculation.
"Hi-hi, guys," he said, tilting his head in a mock-polite bow, though his smile was laced with fake courtesy. "We're all really happy to see you."
So Ho's fingers suddenly unclenched, and his backpack hit the floor with a dull thud. He didn't even notice his own eyes filling with a mix of shock and anger.
"Don't worry, we won't do anything to you. We just have a proposal." Ming You tilted his head slightly, the corners of his lips twitching into a sly smirk.
"What do you want!?" So Ho clenched his fists, his voice sharp with fury. He took a step forward, as if ready to throw a punch at any moment.
"It's simple. I want to play against you—but this time, you'll have a pretty high chance of winning." Ming You raised a hand to continue, but So Ho cut him off.
"You think we don't know about your schemes? We won't have anything to do with you, let alone play!"
"Then how about this alternative offer." Ming You paused, letting his words sink in. "If you win, not only will your debts be erased, but we'll take on double your debt and pay it to you instead. Plus, we'll obey you unconditionally, and I'll make sure none of us can break the agreement."
"And what happens if we lose—or if we just refuse to play? Which is exactly what's going to happen." So Ho's gaze sharpened, as if searching for a trap in every word.
"If you lose, you'll submit to us completely. Your debts will remain, but if you stay loyal to me, you'll have a decent chance to pay them off." Ming You paused briefly before continuing in a quieter, yet more dangerous tone. "But if you refuse, I'll have a little talk with certain people, and your debts will multiply tenfold. And this time, a simple warning won't be enough."
So Ho gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into his palms until his knuckles turned white. But before he could respond, Jen Ryu intervened.
"It'd be great to have someone like you under our command. But first, explain the rules."
"No problem. One captain—meaning one of the five core players—will face your entire five-man team. Tempting offer, isn't it?" Ming You spread his arms in a show of generosity, but his smile was too confident, as if he already knew the outcome.
"That's exactly why your offer is too good to be true!" So Ho shot him an accusing glare, his voice trembling with distrust. "You're obviously scheming something!"
Ming You grinned widely, as if enjoying their confusion.
"Of course, you can refuse. But keep in mind—your team's debt will increase tenfold."
"Looks like we don't have a choice but to accept. So we'll take this chance to kick you out of the team—after pissing on you and making you lick our shoes!" Jen Ryu smirked, his voice taunting, though tension flickered in his eyes.
"Great, love the enthusiasm. Then we'll meet tomorrow evening at the streetball court where you already lost once." Ming You nodded, his tone dripping with sarcasm, as if he were humoring children in a silly argument. Jen Ryu laughed loudly, but it sounded sharp, almost nervous.
"Perfect! Can't wait to have you running errands for us!"
He turned and walked out of the locker room, the others following behind, leaving Ming You and his team alone.
…
Ming You arrived earlier than everyone else to explain the plan and rules of the upcoming game. A light chill hung in the air, and the fine gravel scattered across the asphalt crunched underfoot. He shifted impatiently from one foot to the other, waiting for the others.
When Taek Jung appeared with his crew, Ming You greeted him with a sarcastic smirk.
"Hi-hi, Taek Jung, missed me?"
The other man merely smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.
"Haha, alright, spill it. What've you got planned this time?"
Pleased by his interest, Ming You began explaining, gesturing animatedly.
"First, the game plan. It'll be five players against one. And I'd like you and the others to bet on that one player who'll be facing the five."
Taek Jung and his lackeys exchanged glances before bursting into loud laughter.
"Why are you so confident that one guy can beat five? Planning to play against toddlers or something?"
Unfazed, Ming You tilted his head slightly and continued.
"That's related to the game rule I'm about to set. One point from the five players counts as one, but one point from the captain—the solo player—counts as two. For the five players, a three-pointer is worth two, just like in regular streetball. But for my team's solo player, a three-pointer will also be doubled—so, in short, his three-pointer will be worth four. Given this advantage, I suggest betting on the solo player."
"With rules like that, the solo player has a clear edge, and that's just boring. So if you wanna change the game's rules, you gotta pay up." Taek Jung's eyes gleamed with greed, the corners of his lips twitching in anticipation. Without blinking, Ming You pulled out a stack of cash.
"No problem. Is a million won enough to change the rules?"
"Two million." Taek Jung grinned wider, but Ming You coolly countered:
"One and a half."
"One point six." Taek Jung stood firm, his voice unyielding. Ming You paused for a second, then his empty gaze suddenly flared with the same greed.
"Fine. But only if you and your boys bet on my solo player."
He pulled out another stack of bills, the crisp sound of money filling the air. Taek Jung, having gotten what he wanted, relaxed—but his gaze turned colder.
"Alright, rules are settled. But remember," he handed the money to one of his lackeys, then slowly raised his eyes, "if your captain loses after we all bet on him, don't expect to walk away unscathed like you usually do."
He adjusted his jacket, the movement laced with a hidden threat. Ming You simply flashed a predatory smile.
"By the way, those rookies are already in your debt, so it's in your best interest to make them owe even more."
The gangsters erupted in laughter, impressed by his audacity. Taek Jung shook his head, barely holding back a smirk.
"When will I ever get used to your shamelessness..." He sighed, then waved his hand. "Alright, deal. We'll bet on your player."
This time, Taek Jung was the first to extend his hand. Ming You shook it firmly, sealing the deal.
…
Some time later, closer to nightfall, Taek Jung and his companions finished their final preparations. The lanterns placed around the perimeter of the court cast sharp shadows, creating an atmosphere of tense anticipation. Aside from the organizers themselves, a small crowd of spectators had gathered—those who had learned about the upcoming match in advance and didn't want to miss the show.
The silence of the night was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. The first to appear were the five captains, led by Ming You. Their movements were confident, almost soundless. Approaching the hoop, they dropped their backpacks a couple of meters away, never taking their eyes off the empty court.
But the real commotion arose when a group of twenty-five experienced rookies from the Yoshido Basketball Club, led by So Ho, emerged near the opposite hoop.
"These fucking bastards…" Jen Ryu muttered through clenched teeth, glaring at the thugs and the spectators gathered around the court. So Ho, after sizing up Ming You's team, agreed with him:
"I completely agree. But we still have to beat these scumbags."
"Just look at them," Mei Yu said with disdain, watching as the crowd eagerly placed bets and handed their money to the referee, Song Wo. "These trash are still making bets on the game."
On the other side of the court.
"Alright, Lu Shen, you're up first. Be confident in your victory—you have a huge advantage," Ming You encouraged him without any hidden motives.
"What advantage?" Lu Shen nervously ran a hand over the back of his head, glancing at his five opponents. "It's just me against five of them!"
"Exactly. Since it's one against five," Ming You flashed his deceptive smile, "your shots will count double, including three-pointers."
"So my three-pointers are worth six? I really do have an advantage, heh."
"Dummy, in streetball, a three-pointer counts as two. With your advantage, it'll be four points," Haru Lin laughed at him, making Lu Shen clutch his head in frustration.
"Damn it!"
"Idiot!" Hong Ren suddenly slapped him on the back so hard he nearly stumbled. "That's still a huge advantage, so go out there and smash those losers to pieces!"
Lu Shen immediately perked up, his confidence flaring anew. He threw his head back and laughed loudly:
"Hahah! Even without this advantage, I'd wipe the floor with them like they're kids!"
The team, except for Ming You, burst into laughter, but Lu Shen paid them no mind. With burning determination and unshakable self-belief, he stepped onto the court.
The five rookies, with Mei Yu as their captain, strode onto the court with equal confidence. They had no idea the rules had been altered and still believed their numerical superiority gave them an undeniable edge. Their arrogance was written all over their faces, especially Mei Yu's, who led the team with a faint smirk.
When Lu Shen stood opposite Mei Yu for the jump ball, the latter couldn't resist mocking him. His laughter was loud and haughty:
"Hahahah, you're the dumbest one on this team! The first win is definitely ours." Mei Yu didn't even try to hide his contempt, his voice dripping with certainty, as if the outcome was already decided.
The opponent's words stabbed into Lu Shen's mind like a red-hot needle. Veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes burned with cold fury. He jerked his head toward Mei Yu and hissed through clenched teeth:
"I'm the most experienced one here! Who's the real idiot, huh? You're the damn loser!"
"Dummy, dummy♪♪ heh-heh," Mei Yu sang mockingly.
"…" Lu Shen's face turned red with rage. "You're really—"
"Bets are closed. And… Jump ball!" Song Wo announced the start of the game.
Lu Shen didn't get to finish as Mei Yu intercepted the ball and swiftly passed it.
"Damn it!" Lu Shen roared furiously.
The tall player who received the pass near the three-point line instantly assessed the situation. His eyes flickered across his teammates, tracking every slight movement. Lu Shen, grinding his teeth audibly, chased after him, but his delay was already obvious—the opponent had already reached the corner of the free-throw line.
Without hesitation, the player took a light jump and released the ball. The leather sphere traced a smooth arc through the air, spinning before slipping through the net with a quiet swish.
"I told you you were dumb!" Mei Yu grinned widely, high-fiving the scorer as their laughter echoed across the court.
They exchanged satisfied glances and, without slowing down, turned back to their half, leaving Lu Shen alone with his boiling rage.
"I'll show you who the real idiot is!" His voice tore through his labored breathing, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
"Hahah, go ahead, show us your stupidity!" Mei Yu threw his head back, his laughter merging with his team's, fueling Lu Shen's fury even more.
Lu Shen:
"…"
Main Yoshido team:
"…"
The twenty remaining rookies on the bench:
"…"
Spectators, referee, and organizers:
"…"
After a minute of laughter from the rookie team and a minute of stunned silence from the spectators, Lu Shen crouched slightly and picked up the ball. He began dribbling. His palm struck the ball with force, each bounce crisp and rapid. He moved forward, his torso slightly tilted, shoulders relaxed, but his eyes—sharp—scanned the defenders.
When he crossed the centerline, two players—Mei Yu and the guy who had scored first in the previous round—shifted in sync, blocking his path. Their stances were aggressive: legs wide, arms outstretched, ready to lunge at any moment. Mei Yu smirked and stepped forward, his gaze brimming with arrogant confidence.
"You think we'll let you through? Idiot!" he shouted, laughing.
Lu Shen didn't respond immediately. Instead, he abruptly accelerated to the right, forcing the defenders to instinctively shift, but then—without slowing—he whipped the ball behind his back, sharply changing direction. The ball landed cleanly in his left hand, and he immediately executed a crossover, slipping it between his legs—quick as a snap of the fingers. The defenders twitched, trying to predict his next move, but he had already leaped back beyond the three-point line.
"Heh." His chuckle was quiet, but it carried unshakable confidence.
The two defenders exchanged glances, momentarily speechless: "Is he really this stupid, or is this some kind of absurd joke?" flashed through their minds.
But before they could react, Lu Shen had already lifted the ball, his wrist gently sending it into flight. The motion was smooth, almost lazy, but the ball traced a perfect arc, spinning through the air before swishing through the net without even grazing the rim.
"What a moron—" Mei Yu began, but his laughter died in his throat as the crisp sound of a clean shot rang out.
Lu Shen didn't wait for a reaction. He was already turning and sprinting back to his side of the court, only glancing over his shoulder to toss back:
"So who's the idiot now, huh?"
Lu Shen was firmly in the lead, but the rookies, unable to see the scoreboard, mistakenly believed they were only down by one point. This illusion fueled their competitive fire, and they played with redoubled energy, completely unaware of how far behind they actually were.
The game continued, and Lu Shen masterfully exploited his advantage. He toyed with their defense, sinking shot after shot from long range—his three-pointers were nearly unstoppable, the ball slicing cleanly through the net with a high arc, leaving his opponents helpless. Yet, despite this, Mei Yu's team refused to give up. They countered with fast breaks: Mei deftly weaved through defenders with risky dribbles and sharp changes of direction, while his assists under the basket set up easy points for his teammates.
It almost seemed like the rookies were about to seize control—their accurate shots and aggressive defense created the illusion of an even match. But Lu Shen, even with the occasional miss, remained ice-cold. He showcased masterful play in the paint: deceptive footwork, sharp spins, and soft putbacks that nullified all of his opponents' efforts.
When Lu Shen intercepted the ball near the opponent's free-throw line, instantly assessing the situation, he felt the pressure closing in around him. Mei Yu, quick and tenacious, immediately rushed him, while another defender arrived to cut off his retreat.
But Lu Shen didn't panic. Slightly tilting his torso, he faked a sharp drive to the left—the defenders bit and lunged after him. In the same instant, he abruptly switched direction, whipping the ball behind his back and bursting to the right. His opponents, fooled by the fake, froze mid-jump in awkward hesitation, and he slipped right between them, leaving them behind.
Lu Shen charged toward the hoop, feeling the asphalt vanish beneath his feet. At the last second, he braked slightly, throwing off the approaching center, then explosively leaped, extending his arm for the finish. The close-range shot was flawless—the ball kissed the backboard and dropped softly through the net without even touching the rim.
"Dude, you guys are stupid!" Lu Shen exclaimed as he sprinted back.
Mei Yu, fists clenched and teeth gritted, sharply passed to the nearest teammate without even looking. His movements were rough, almost angry—he was clearly frustrated.
The receiver of the pass surged forward, deftly maneuvering past the defense: first with a sharp jab step left, then a rapid acceleration right, leaving Lu Shen behind. Finishing the drive with a swift layup, he sent the ball through the net with precision.
At first glance, it seemed like they had scored, narrowing the gap—but the truth was, the rookies thought they were winning by a margin since no one had explained the rules to them.
"We're ahead!" one of the rookies shouted. "Lu Shen isn't as strong as he seems!"