The next morning, in the school locker room that smelled of fresh paint and a faint hint of dampness, the new club members gathered. On the central bench, with a wooden door to its left, sat So Ho. Beside him, Jen Ryu lounged with his legs crossed and an elbow resting on his knee. His posture seemed relaxed, but his clenched fists and tense shoulders betrayed his inner turmoil. The rest of the team sat farther away, whispering among themselves and stealing glances at the pair.
"In this team, aside from us, there's no one you can trust," So Ho declared with contempt. "After Ming You, none of them can even be called human."
"True. Even Jung Ho, with all his principles, has become inhuman. We need to figure out what to do when the core of the team is full of bastards like this," Jen Ryu agreed. Mei Yu quickly added:
"What if we just refuse to play? Even if something happens to us or our families, we can just go to the police, right?"
"Hey, we don't want anything to happen in the first place, so that's not an option," one of the newcomers interrupted.
The team froze in confusion, exchanging bewildered glances. No plan, not even the slightest chance to escape this situation—just a dead end, suffocating them with panic.
Then, the locker room door creaked. Everyone turned sharply, and when Ming You appeared in the doorway, their bewilderment only deepened.
"Hi-hi, friends, miss me?" he said indifferently.
The newcomers exchanged looks. No one knew how to react. While the others struggled to gather their thoughts, So Ho was the first to find his voice:
"What the hell do you want?"
Ming You didn't flinch. Slowly, he raised his hands in a mock gesture of peace.
"Hey, hey, relax. I'm here with a pretty lucrative deal."
"What kind of damn deal?" Jen Ryu shot to his feet. The bench behind him slammed backward with a crash, hitting a metal locker. "We're not dancing to your tune!"
His voice trembled with rage. Ming You's face remained stone-cold, but something flickered in his eyes—irritation, or maybe… amusement?
"Why so rude? I came here to help you, you know."
Veins bulged on the newcomers' foreheads, their skin flushed with fury, faces twisted in anger. Jaws clenched so tightly that their cheek muscles trembled, fists involuntarily tightening, leaving nail marks on their palms. Even the most composed among them couldn't hide their indignation—the air was thick with tension, ready to erupt into shouts or even a fight.
None of those present dared to openly oppose such audacity. But So Ho, taking a deep breath and suppressing the first wave of anger, coldly sized up his opponent:
"Fine. What kind of help are you offering? And what's in it for you?"
"Help in canceling the rule that increases the captain's points. More than that—your points will be doubled." Ming You paused, savoring their reactions. "As for my benefit…" His lips stretched into a sly smirk. "You're just pathetic weaklings, and I want to crush you even without my advantage."
The locker room fell silent for a moment. The hum of the ventilation, the creak of wooden benches under the players' weight, their heavy breathing—all merged into a tense pause, like the calm before a thunderclap.
Jen Ryu lunged forward, grabbing Ming You's shirt with such force that the seams groaned. His face burned with rage, eyes blazing, fingers digging into the fabric as if ready to tear it apart.
"You bastard, who the hell are you calling weaklings?"
"All of you." Ming You sneered. "And you're not just weak—you're a stupid idiot."
Jen Ryu exploded. His fist clenched, muscles tensed for a strike—but at the last second, So Ho stepped between them, shoving Jen Ryu back.
"Don't fall for his bait."
Jen Ryu growled, teeth clenched so hard his cheekbones stood out white. He stepped back, but his chest still heaved, fingers twitching into fists.
As Jen Ryu retreated, So Ho took a step forward, closing the distance with Ming You.
"Let's say you actually want a fair game—which, by the way, we'd never believe—but about this match… You're obviously planning to set your own rules, aren't you?"
"You're pretty sharp. Yeah, you're right. But you're wrong about one thing…" Ming You leaned in slightly, flashing a mocking grin. "I'm going to make the rules in your team's favor."
The silence in the locker room grew thicker. The players exchanged glances, unsure where he was going with this.
"And what kind of rules would possibly benefit us?" So Ho snapped, glaring straight at Ming You. "You're clearly up to no good!"
"Partly right. It's a one-round rule with me. But if you lose, heh-heh…" Ming You's grin turned sinister as he slowly scanned each of them. "The rules will favor me. But if you win, not only will I wipe all your debts, I'll leave the team. How's that for a tempting offer?"
The team remained baffled. Their eyes darted from one to another, searching for support but finding only the same confusion. Jen Ryu, the most hotheaded of them, took a sharp step forward, his sneakers slapping loudly against the concrete floor.
"So what exactly are these rules you're planning to set?"
"Simple. My points will be worth one, just like in regular streetball—so a three-pointer counts as two. But your points will be doubled. Stupid to refuse, right?" he said indifferently. So Ho raised his voice:
"Then what's the catch?"
Ming You smirked, as if he'd been waiting for that question.
"The catch is that if you somehow lose with such an advantage, then in the final matches, your points will be halved, while my player's points will be quadrupled. To be precise, your shots will be worth half a point instead of one, and my captain's shots—four. Same with three-pointers: yours will be worth one, while my captain's—eight. Tempting, isn't it?"
"So, it's like some kind of gamble?" So Ho said slowly, trying to process what had been said. "If we win, we clear our debts. But if we lose, we'll definitely lose in the last games with these rules too..."
Ming You slowly raised his thumb, as if punctuating his words:
"Exactly. So, do you agree? Or do we stick to the old rules?"
"Why the hell can't we just play by normal streetball rules in these games?" Jen Ryu blurted out aggressively. So Ho sharply looked up and backed him up:
"That's exactly it! Why complicate things?"
Ming You's lips stretched into a cold smirk. His gaze turned sinister, as if sizing up his victims before delivering the final blow.
"You still don't get who's the debtor here and who isn't? I'm giving you a chance to get out of this mess, so you should be thanking me. But if you refuse, that's on you. Remember that."
"Oh, wow, thanks a fucking lot! You're a real saint!" Jen Ryu's words dripped with anger and sarcasm, as if he wasn't just arguing but ready to punch Ming You right then and there.
"Suit yourself. My job was to offer." Ming You tossed the words over his shoulder, already turning to leave.
His footsteps echoed loudly against the tiled floor, but before he could reach the door handle, So Ho suddenly called out:
"Wait! We need time to think over your proposal."
Ming You froze, then slowly turned around. His lips curled into a mocking semblance of a smile.
"What's there to think about? Either you can cover your debts, or I'll bury you even deeper with my advantage. So, it's either yes, or go find yourselves some extra jobs."
"Hold on, give us five minutes!" So Ho burst out. Ming You turned back to the door and coldly threw over his shoulder:
"You've had time, but you wasted it on doubts and cursing at me."
"Fine, we agree!" So Ho turned to his stunned teammates and continued, "Guys, if you think about it logically, this round with Ming You isn't just a chance to win one game—it's a chance to wipe out all our debts. Plus, we'll have the advantage. We can't pass this up."
"But how—" One of the players tried to interject, but Ming You cut him off:
"Great, it's settled. I'll see you tomorrow evening at the same court. If you manage to lose, blame no one but yourselves."
The heavy locker room door slammed shut behind Ming You with a dull thud. The last thing the newcomers saw was his careless wave, as if he'd just stepped out for a moment—not left them staring into the face of uncertainty. Tension hung thick in the air, heavy like the silence before a storm.
Mei Yu was the first to break. He shot up from the bench so fast the wood creaked under his weight. Glaring at So Ho, he clenched his fists.
"Why the hell should we dance to his tune? You know he's setting us up! Why did you fall for it?"
So Ho hesitated for a few seconds before replying anxiously:
"It's our only chance, and I don't want to waste it. Sure, it's weird that the rules are in our favor—he's definitely planning something. But if we'd kept things as they were, we'd have lost for sure. Ming You isn't just the strongest in this team because of his strategies—it's his physical power too."
The players digested So Ho's words. Fear, anger, doubt—all swirled in the silence.
Then Jen Ryu's voice cut through:
"Maybe you're right, and that bastard really is up to something. But damn it, we have to take this chance! We've got no other choice, so let's gather our strength and crush him in this game!" He scanned the others, and a fire burned in his eyes that hadn't been there a minute ago. "Don't we all want to see Ming You kicked off the team?"
"It's settled—we'll destroy him!" Mei Yu raised his fist in response, and his shout was echoed by the others.
One by one, the newcomers rose from their seats, shaking off their paralysis. Some clapped their teammates on the back, others muttered curses under their breath, gripping their gear tightly. The locker room door creaked open, flooding the room with a strip of bright light as they stepped out into the hall.
…
The evening of the next day. A dimly lit street basketball court gradually filled with spectators. They scattered around the benches, whispering in anticipation of the game.
Ming You was the first to arrive. He wore a black basketball jersey with blood-red trim, the number 44 starkly visible on his back. He methodically tossed the ball with one hand, catching it with a dull slap. His lips were stretched into a practiced, sly smile, but his gaze remained cold and empty, as if something hidden behind the mask of excitement was beyond the comprehension of those around him.
"You're here again, Ming You?" came the voice of Taek Jung.
Before approaching, he gave a respectful bow, then asked with a thoughtful expression:
"What's your plan this time?"
"New rules," Ming You replied, deftly catching the ball. "I'm going to set the rules in their team's favor and revoke my advantage of double points."
"Rules favoring five players?" Taek Jung said surprised, raised his eyebrows. "I can't wait to see what you're really up to, heh. And you really think they'll accept this?"
"They already have," Ming You smirked, tossing the ball into the hoop. "Increasing their points is just a way to make the game more interesting. And they'll think they have the upper hand."
"Aren't you afraid this might backfire?" Taek Jung asked, admiring his confidence. "That's a pretty bold move."
Ming You effortlessly sank the ball into the basket, and as it dropped through the net, he merely smirked and said:
"Boldness is what separates winners from losers. I know how to control the game, and they won't be able to stop me."
At that moment, the five-player team led by So Ho approached the court, heading toward the opposite hoop. So Ho, walking at the front, suddenly stopped and glared at Ming You from a distance. His eyes narrowed with clear distrust, but he clenched his teeth and remained silent, not uttering a word.
Mei Yu, leisurely pulling a ball from his backpack, scanned the entire team with a confident gaze and said:
"Ready to play?"
"Damn right," So Ho replied, his voice steady, though a flicker of doubt passed through his eyes.
Ming You, observing the rookie team as they warmed up intently by the opposite hoop, slowly walked toward the center line. His gaze slid over his opponents, noting their stiff movements and tense faces. The more he sensed their nervousness, the stronger his competitive desire to test their limits grew, and a faint smirk touched his lips.
"Come on, guys, don't slack off!" So Ho shouted, his voice full of determination.
Ming You and So Ho briefly locked eyes, but even that fleeting contact was enough to send a spark of tension between them. So Ho stared at his opponent with open hatred—his eyes burned with a cold fire, and his clenched lips betrayed the fury he was barely holding back.
In contrast, Ming You remained completely indifferent: his gaze was empty, as if devoid of any emotion, and the barely perceptible smirk on his lips only emphasized his deliberate detachment. This mask of apathy acted like a red flag to So Ho, making him seethe with even greater anger.
"Alright, folks," announced referee Sung Wo, drawing the crowd's attention. "Today, we have a special match! Ming You will be facing off against a team of five players!"
The crowd buzzed with excitement and began placing their bets. Ming You grinned at his opponents.
"For the five-player team, points will be doubled!" the referee continued.
Whispers and doubts spread through the crowd, but most still decided to bet on the five players. Taek Jung, however, looked at Ming You with admiration:
"Haha! So that's your plan!" he said with a smile. "Not only the players, but you've even outsmarted the spectators. Impressive."
"Five players with a points advantage against what looks like a weak opponent will make the crowd bet wrong," Ming You replied coldly, his seemingly empty eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I'll be the only winner—even the spectators will lose."
So Ho, standing on the opposite side of the hoop, clenched his fists, preparing for the tip-off. Ming You leisurely stepped to the center, but his posture was deliberately relaxed.