2012 · Los Angeles · Training Facility
The gym was quieter the next morning.
Not because fewer people showed up on time— but because everyone noticed what was missing.
Two lockers were already empty.
No notes.
No explanations.
Just absence.
Gu Kai tied his shoes slowly, listening to the faint echoes of dribbles on the far court. Nobody talked much. Even the loud ones from earlier days kept their voices low.
This wasn't a tryout anymore.
This was a filter.
Warm-up started on schedule.
No jokes.
No music.
The coach stood at midcourt, clipboard in hand.
"Same rules," he said.
"Full intensity. No excuses."
He paused.
"And if you think you're safe—"
his eyes swept across the room,
"you're not."
The ball went up.
The first run was ugly.
Not because of mistakes—but because of fear.
Players hesitated.
Overpassed.
Avoided contact.
Gu Kai felt it immediately.
This wasn't real basketball.
This was survival mode.
On the third possession, a guard turned down an open lane and kicked the ball back out. The shot missed.
Fast break the other way.
"Stop," the coach shouted.
He pointed at the guard.
"Sit."
No argument.
No second chance.
The message landed hard.
Gu Kai took a breath.
When the ball came to him, he didn't rush.
He attacked the space that had to be attacked—and nowhere else.
One drive.
Kick out.
Relocate.
The next possession, he didn't touch the ball at all. He screened, cut, dragged a defender with him.
Someone else scored.
No reaction from the coach.
But the clipboard shifted slightly.
Midway through the run, the defense tried something new.
They switched everything.
Bigger body on Gu Kai.
Longer arms.
Less pressure, more containment.
Yesterday's burst wouldn't work here.
Gu Kai saw it—and didn't force it.
He dribbled once, waited for the switch to settle, then slipped the ball inside before the help could reset.
Finish.
Next possession.
Same switch.
Gu Kai backed out, waved a teammate through, and cut hard baseline.
The pass came late—but it came.
Finish.
The defense called for a timeout.
That alone said enough.
The second run was faster.
Harder.
No one was hiding anymore.
Contact came shoulder-first.
Screens hit like walls.
Gu Kai took one charge.
Gave one back.
He didn't score much.
But every possession made sense.
When the whistle finally blew, no one collapsed.
Everyone just stood there—waiting.
The coach gathered them at center court.
He looked down at his clipboard.
Read one name.
Then another.
Two players were told to step aside.
They didn't protest.
They already knew.
The coach's eyes lifted.
They landed on Gu Kai.
Stayed there.
"Tomorrow," he said,
"you're running with the core group."
No applause.
No congratulations.
Just confirmation.
As Gu Kai walked back to the bench, the system interface appeared—steady, controlled.
[Stage Mission Update]
[Objective: Establish a Label]
[Progress: Stable]
[Behavior Analysis: High-Pressure Decision-Making Confirmed]
🟣 Purple Trait Unlock Progress: 76%
[Note]
Survival is not about doing more.
It's about being necessary.
Gu Kai sat down and leaned back.
His jersey clung to his back.
His legs were heavy.
But his mind was calm.
This wasn't the kind of day that made highlights.
It was the kind that decided futures.
He glanced at the empty lockers again.
Tomorrow, there would be fewer.
And one more step closer to knowing—
Who actually belonged here.