"Other than that big guy, the rest aren't really impressive."
Kota's comment was blunt. In his eyes, aside from that tall player, the others were just extras—none of them worth his time, much less worth passing the ball to.
Reiko nodded in agreement. She knew Kota's strength well, and as a top-tier reporter specializing in scouting basketball talent, her judgment was anything but poor. Naturally, she could also tell that the tall player stood on a completely different level. She opened her mouth, about to ask more.
But just then, a voice suddenly rang out.
"Oh? So what you're saying is, the other players aren't even worth your attention?"
"Of course not, what I mean is they're just not—"
Kota started to answer out of habit, then froze. Wait a second—that wasn't just some random man speaking… that was Japanese!
He whipped around and found an elderly man with snow-white hair, leaning on a cane, staring directly at him with piercing eyes.
Even though his hair was white and his back slightly hunched, the man's presence was overwhelming. His sharp gaze was like an eagle's, as if he were trying to strip away Kota's very soul.
"Ebi!"
Reiko gasped in surprise, immediately standing to greet the old man while secretly pinching Kota's side.
Ebi? Was he a basketball association executive? A coach?
Kota's mind raced through possibilities as he stood up too, locking eyes with the so-called "Ebi"
For a moment, silence. Both sides staring.
And the most awkward person in the scene? No doubt Reiko.
She fiddled with the edge of her clothes nervously, her eyes darting everywhere, clearly unsure how to act.
Unbelievably, this sly, sharp-tongued reporter was showing such a flustered side. That alone made Kota even more curious—just who exactly was this man?
After a long silence, Ebi stroked his beard and finally spoke in a slow, steady voice:
"Young man, you should take responsibility for the words you say."
His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp as knives.
Kota kept his composure, switching smoothly into Japanese.
"Sir, I only spoke the truth. It was wrong of me to judge people behind their backs, but that really is what I think."
Reiko's jaw dropped. She whipped her head toward Kota, as if he had just revealed some earth-shattering secret.
Even Ebi's expression faltered for a moment. Then he squinted at Kota again and suddenly burst out laughing.
"Good kid, good kid! Hahaha!"
"Yimin."
"Yes!"
Ebi's sudden call made Reiko jolt upright.
"This boy is the one you recruited for the national youth training camp?"
Reiko glanced at Kota and nodded firmly.
"That's right. He's an excellent point guard."
"Oh, a point guard, huh?"
Ebi pretended to suddenly understand, then immediately switched back to Japanese, sneering,
"With that height, what else could he possibly play?"
He said it deliberately loud enough for Kota to hear.
"Great. First day here and I already pissed off some coach-looking guy. Just my luck."
Kota clicked his tongue. Too late to back down now.
Besides, wasn't this exactly why he came—to prove himself?
In basketball, there's always one rule: Strength is everything.
If Kota had no real skills, then what he said earlier would just make him look like a cocky idiot.
But if he could back it up on the court, then it wouldn't be arrogance—it would be confidence.
"Sir, I think you've misunderstood me."
Kota sighed, spreading his hands as if helpless, but when his eyes met Ebi's again, the corners of his lips curled upward.
"How about we make a bet?"
Ebi's gaze sharpened. He folded his cane and sat down in the stands.
"Speak."
Satisfied with his reaction, Kota continued,
"Pick any three players on the court—other than that tall guy—and let me play them one-on-one. If I beat all three, give me a spot on the national youth team. I'm guessing you're some big shot in the association, or maybe a veteran coach, right? If I lose even one game, I'll pack up and leave immediately."
He even raised his eyebrows provocatively, expecting Ebi to agree right away.
But the old man didn't react immediately. He simply kept his eyes on the players training on the court, saying nothing.
Kota frowned. He thought the old man would accept instantly.
Reiko leaned in, whispering,
"The system changed. To enter the national youth team now, you have to go through the official tryouts. Not even the president of the association can just hand out a spot."
Seriously? That strict?
Kota raised his brows, realizing that explained it. It wasn't that Ebi didn't want to agree—he literally couldn't.
"Ahem, then let's change the terms. If I win, all you have to do is apologize for what you said earlier. Forget the team spot, I didn't know about the new rules, haha."
Kota scratched his head with a grin, testing if the old man was unwilling because it was impossible, or simply because he didn't want to bet.
Unexpectedly, Ebi tilted his head and asked, "Which part?"
Kota blinked, then chuckled. "That I only play point guard because I'm short. I'm a point guard because that's who I am. Height's got nothing to do with it."
Ebi studied him for a moment, then stroked his cane slowly.
"Interesting… Fine, I'll take your bet. But if you lose, you don't need to leave Japan. Just apologize to my players."
"Deal."
Kota agreed easily, though inwardly he felt he understood the old man a little better.
Protective of his players, strict, fierce like a hawk—but also not someone who made promises he couldn't keep. Stubborn, but almost endearingly so.
While Kota was labeling him in his head, Ebi suddenly shouted at the court:
"Everyone, gather!"
His voice wasn't loud—raspy from age—but somehow, every player on the court heard him instantly. They dropped what they were doing and rushed over, assembling in perfect order before him.
Whoa. That discipline!
Kota was impressed, and so were the other candidates for the youth team.
Who's that guy? Never seen him before.
Yet, despite their curiosity, none of them whispered to each other. Not a single one broke formation.
The sheer discipline of this squad made Kota genuinely respect them.
Ebi noticed the change in Kota's expression and, satisfied, nodded slightly to himself.
His pride and joy, a team forged like steel—finally, someone recognized its worth.
The old fogeys in the association always said, "Basketball is basketball, don't run it like the military." What did they know? Basketball is war !Only disciplined teams can conquer the battlefield!
Still, even though Ebi's impression of Kota improved, he wasn't about to let him off easy.
After all, as a potential youth team recruit, Kota could very well be his future student. A little tough love was necessary.
"Kid, I won't bully you. You pick the three players yourself. The bet stands."
Ebi smirked confidently. One-on-ones weren't full games—height and physique mattered even more here. Kota might have skills, but he was still the shortest guy on the court. And three consecutive duels? Even if each was just first to three points, he'd be gasping by the end.
In Ebi 's mind, this was a guaranteed win.
Kota, however, only smiled helplessly. He didn't argue—just pointed casually at three of the stronger players.
"Those three."
When Ebi saw who he'd picked, his confident expression cracked.
He frowned slightly.
"Really? Out of everyone here, he picked the three toughest guys besides Xiao Gao? This kid doesn't know how to choose his battles."
…Fine. Let him crash and burn.
"Xiao Lin, Xiao Zhang, Xiao Wang. Step forward."
The three players marched out in perfect formation, like soldiers on a mission.
Ebi turned to Kota mid-introduction, then realized he didn't know his name. He quickly switched to Japanese. "And you are…?"
"Kota."
Kota shrugged. "Don't worry, old man. You'll remember my name soon enough."
Even off the court, his trash talk came naturally. And judging by Ebi's suddenly darkened face, he had hit the mark.
Ebi's jaw clenched.
"Kota is from Japan. Like you, he's here for the youth team tryouts. He's… let's say, very curious about your abilities."
That was putting it lightly.
Kota kept his face neutral, though inside he was sighing.
"This old man really knows how to hold a grudge."
Sure enough, the players' expressions hardened instantly.
And Ebi twisted the knife: "So, he asked to play one-on-one against three of you."
"Play hard. Don't let our foreign friend down."
His tone grew sharper at the end.
The three selected players, each with a surname beginning with "Xiao", rolled up their sleeves, ready to go all out.
"One game each, first to three points. Right, Kota?"
Ebi smiled coolly. "Our bet stands, but I'd prefer you finish all three games—even if you lose one."
Still bent over tying his shoes, Kota didn't even look up.
"Relax, old man. Losing isn't on today's schedule."
...
"Three possessions. Let him attack."
Ebi sat motionless in the stands, calm as a mountain.
His disciples naturally had no objections to his proposal.
The first one to step up was Xiao Lin. Crew cut, about 190 cm tall, with a sharp, determined look on his face.
He didn't say a word as he passed the ball single-handedly to Kota. The moment Kota caught it, Xiao Lin dropped low into his defensive stance. His form was solid, but the look on his face made it clear—he wasn't taking Kota seriously.
After all, just by looking at his height, Kota didn't seem like someone who could stop him. As long as he managed one good stop, Lin was confident he could ride the momentum and crush Kota!
"…Am I being underestimated here?"
Noticing Lin's mindset, Kota couldn't help but laugh bitterly. He couldn't really blame him—his appearance was indeed deceiving.
For those who didn't know him, it was hard to believe that someone barely over 180 cm could actually be a one-on-one specialist.
Kota's muttering made Lin frown slightly. Since he didn't understand Japanese, he assumed Kota was just greeting him. But judging from Ebi's expression, it was clear he wasn't supposed to hold back.
~"Sorry, but coach gave the word. Guess I'll just have to embarrass you."
Lin whispered, knowing Kota probably wouldn't understand, but saying it anyway.
"Haha… well then, I should be thanking you."
Kota chuckled and stopped wasting words. Facing Lin's defense, he dribbled low and got ready to attack.
From the short time observing earlier, Kota had already sized up his opponent's style and ability.
Good shooting and solid driving ability. Strongest at playmaking. In a full game, he'd probably be a point guard, just like Kota. His style even resembled a taller Yuki. His defensive attitude was commendable, but unfortunately…
"Your defense is too weak. Attitude alone doesn't cut it."
Kota faked a hang dribble, making Lin bite on the movement. Then, with a quick crossover through the legs, he blew past on the front foot!
Lin's face stiffened. He hadn't expected Kota to exploit such a tricky angle. Too late to recover, he could only watch as Kota drove left and even had the flair to finish with a jelly layup.
"Wooo! That was slick, Kota!"
From the sidelines, Reiko clapped excitedly, thrilled that the player she had brought along was shining. If Kota looked good, so did she.
On the court, Lin wasn't angry despite being scored on. He rubbed his face and reset into defensive position, determination still etched on his face.
"Not bad, you've got spirit."
Kota grinned, took the inbound, and dribbled again. Same hang dribble, same move—and once again, he left Lin in the dust.
"Again!"
Unwilling to concede, Lin quickly grabbed the ball and passed it back to Kota. But being beaten twice by the same move rattled his usual composure.
Up in the stands, Ebi crossed his arms and sighed quietly. He already knew how this would end.
And sure enough, Kota pulled out the same fake, but this time changed the direction. In an instant, he slipped by Lin again, sealing his first win of the day.
"Nice one!"
Reiko cheered happily, but her joy contrasted sharply with the sour faces of the national youth team candidates.
Lin's defeat wasn't meaningless, though—they had already seen that Kota was no pushover.
"This time, let me go."
From among the national youth squad, another player stepped forward. It was Xiao Wang, one of the three Ebi had named earlier.
Seeing him step in, Ebi's eyes flashed with relief.
Aside from that big guy, Wang was his personal favorite among the reserves!
At 188 cm, his height wasn't outstanding for a guard, but his absurd 196 cm wingspan made him a defensive monster on the perimeter. Combined with specialized defensive training crafted by Ebi himself, he was easily the best one-on-one perimeter defender among the youth squad.
"Thanks for the match."
Wang nodded politely to Kota — regardless of whether he understood — then inbounded and immediately dropped into a defensive stance.
Kota licked his lips. Of course he remembered this guy.
Outstanding physical tools, intense defensive hunger, and solid fundamentals. This "Wang" would at least rank among the Uncrowned Kings!
But basketball is a game that favors offense. At equal levels, the attacker always has the advantage—the rules themselves lean that way.
And anyone standing on the same tier as Kota… well, you'd have to be a "Miracle" at the very least.
Kota didn't rush. He jab-stepped with his right foot. Wang twitched, but realizing it was just a fake, quickly reset his balance, keeping his weight centered and denying an easy drive.
Kota probed again, this time left. Wang shifted, but still held firm, showing no cracks.
The gym suddenly fell quiet, as if the world had frozen, leaving only the squeak of sneakers echoing between the two players locked in their duel.
On the sideline, Reiko pressed her hands together in front of her chest, a worried look crossing her face.
The rest of the youth team held their breath, not daring to exhale.
Even Ebi quietly wiped the sweat from his palms.
If Wang couldn't stop Kota, then his bet was in serious danger.