I wasn't a starter, so I sat on the bench, watching the game unfold.
Part of me wanted to prove myself right then and there, begging to get subbed in, but after skipping every single team practice so far, that would've made me look like a total punk. So I decided to wait patiently for my turn.
They're pretty good, though.
Not just the two pro hopefuls, but even the regular PE-track kids had solid fundamentals—they weren't grinding 3-on-3 every day for nothing.
So this is what Chang-min meant when he said we're surprisingly strong. Especially...
Small forward Shin Subin.
I could see why Chang-min compared him to Seo Taewoong. His playstyle was spot-on.
Iso machine. Flashy dribbles and killer looks.
But above all, he wasn't a ball-handler.
Lack of playmaking? Classic Seo Taewoong.
Thanks to Shin Subin's exploits, the score stayed neck-and-neck. Every time he scored, thunderous cheers erupted from the stands.
"That's my boy! Go, go, go—Shin Subin, fighting!"
A familiar voice.
The shoe salesman who'd recommended this school to me was going wild with cheers. Our eyes met for a second.
"...Hello, sir."
"...?"
I gave a quick bow, and he awkwardly nodded back, looking puzzled. He couldn't figure out why I was on the bench—tilting his head like, Injured or something?
Then—beep! Our team called timeout.
Chang-min beckoned me over.
"Shin Hyun-cheol. Your turn. You get the gist of how to play by now, right?"
"Got it. Just gotta shut down their center."
"No need to go all out. Just think 'survive' and hang in there."
No expectations from him at all.
Chang-min figured I was just another PE-track guy joining the basketball team for college apps, like the rest. And he knew better than anyone that I was a total basketball newbie.
First things first—time to change that look in his eyes.
The first quarter resumed with our ball.
I posted up in the left short corner.
My matchup, opponent center Lee Sang-ho, smirked and whispered,
"Fucking benchwarmers."
"...?"
He'd sniffed out that our team was mostly PE-track scrubs and spat it with utter disdain.
"Fuck, you think you can play ball just 'cause you're tall? Basketball looks easy to you cocky shits?"
"...Ha."
"You laughing, you punk?"
"Can't I? How good are you, talking all that shit?"
Thud! Thud! Chang-min slowly brought the ball up.
"Me? Fucking amazing. Leagues above you scrubs. Didn't you see earlier?"
"Saw it. You waddling around like a beached whale."
"You little shit, you're dead..."
"Keep that attitude up, pretty please? Gets boring when you deflate."
Just like that center who'd fouled out trying to guard me back then.
"Hey!"
I waved at Chang-min.
With Shin Subin resting, Chang-min had no outlet. Seeing me hungry for the ball, he glanced at the shot clock and fired an entry pass my way.
Lee Sang-ho licked his lips like, You dare? and went into battle mode.
Thud! I caught it near the short corner, turned my back halfway, and went into post-up mode.
"Hng...!"
"...!?"
Thump! I twisted slightly, aligning hip, side, forearm, and shoulder into one solid wall—and slammed into him. His body jolted and got shoved back.
And again!
Thump! Still reeling from the first hit, he flew back even farther on the quick follow-up.
The gap opened.
Tang! One dribble to face up, I sliced to his side, thud! grabbed the ball, gathered my steps, tap-tap! two more shuffles, and exploded toward the rim.
It's there!
Back in the day, I'd had to heave it from too far out. Now? I could lay it right up soft.
Swoosh! Clean through the net.
16-13. We were catching up.
...
Silence blanketed the court.
Not just the opponents—even our guys were stunned. Chang-min looked like time had frozen for him alone.
"Lee Seojun, you..."
"Backcourt! Defense!"
"...! R-right. Defense! Focus up!"
Players hustled back amid the chaos.
I sprinted to the paint, ready for them.
Lee Sang-ho's face was a mask of shock. He tried sliding to the side corner for the pass like before, but no way was I giving him that spot.
Squeeze! His bulk got pushed out.
"Kuh...!"
"What, you that weak? All flab or something?"
Couldn't even clap back my trash talk. He gritted his teeth, barely snagged the entry pass.
Still better than that sophomore center, though.
Unlike that guy who'd gotten steamrolled, this one had some power. Knew how to brace, at least.
With the ball, Lee Sang-ho tried the post-up that'd worked before I checked in.
His style was pure power-backdown. While I pivoted quick to face up, he bulldozed with hips and back, inching as close to the rim as possible. Once there, a simple twist and up-and-under.
But not against me.
Thump! I barely budged.
My natural build, plus soccer-honed legs and core, were on another level. No contest against this soft gym-rat bulk—I barely lifted weights myself.
Post-ups aren't a tug-of-war endurance test; they're hammer strikes. You don't get pushed zero, but 10cm? That's nothing. Shot clock ticks down—he's hurting.
"Ngh...!"
He knew it, tried spinning baseline anyway.
Slow.
Screech! My crisp side-step cut off his drive path first. Stuck, he pump-faked uselessly.
Shot clock at 2... desperate hook shot leap.
Too slow!
Smack! Filthy swat.
So much time, I angled it to carom off the backboard. Loose ball—their guy scooped it for a shot, but beep-beep-beep! Ref blew hard: shot clock violation.
"Wha..."
"Sang-ho got posterized?"
"Who the hell is that guy?"
Murmurs rippled.
Chang-min snapped to it first. He'd cracked the code: I was the answer.
"Yo, Shin Hyun-cheol! I'll feed you—keep doing your thing!"
"Roger. Time to show 'em."
Shin Hyun-cheol channeling that Northside dominance? For real this time.
I squared up outside the paint again.
"Hoo...! Hoo...!"
Where'd his swagger go? Face like stone. One exchange, and he knew.
The gap in raw physicality.
Not just nullifying skill—it flipped the script.
Feels like I can score at will.
And I could.
Post-up shove to face-up drive.
Simple combo—he couldn't hang.
Simple = fastest, straightest line. Can't match speed? No real D possible.
Forcing it? Breakdown city.
"Fuck...!"
Lee Sang-ho lunged for a contest.
Midair collision—beep!! Ref whistled instant foul.
Balance wrecked, I scrapped the layup for a sure finish...
"Hng...!!"
BAM!! One-hand slam home.
Crash!! Sang-ho, leaping late, ate the shockwave and tumbled.
I hung on the rim, landed safe, then pulled out my prepared flair.
Shin Hyun-cheol after swatting Kang Back-ho.
Grinning sly, I looked down.
"Huh? Oh... there you are."
"...!!"
His face flushed with humiliation.
Then—why?—the whistle blew again.
"...Huh?"
Technical foul. On me.
###
Seonggyun University coach Lee Won-il gaped, slack-jawed.
"What the—who is that guy!?"
Toiling over a total unknown toying with Lee Sang-ho.
"Sangwon High had a freak like that...? No—doesn't matter the school, how do I not know a player at that level!?"
He scouted prelims religiously. No way he missed this.
And that talent? Otherworldly.
Skills? Hold judgment—high school matchup. But the body? Beyond HS, college-ready. Devouring it.
No wonder he's getting cooked!
Sang-ho'd struggled against Shin Subin's speed mismatch.
Answer obvious: Seojun was faster.
Worse mismatch.
Who could handle that?
Center power + PG quicks. Monster.
Not Sang-ho's fault.
Top-5 HS center material.
Just bad matchup.
This guy's college All-Star potential—top 3, easy!
Shivers hit Lee Won-il. Then, a weary voice from behind.
"Whew... Made it in time, huh? Why'd they slot their first game against these guys?"
"Ah...! Coach Eun-ho!"
"Yo, Won-il. Still grinding, I see."
Park Eun-ho, Seongwon U coach—domestic top-3 college program. Eyes bulged recognizing him.
Seongwon: kids flocked there—no hard sell needed. Him at prelims? Wild.
"What brings you here, hyung?"
"Here for him. Lee Seojun."
"You know him!?"
"Intro from a senior acquaintance. A bit."
Park Eun-ho settled in, arms crossed, watching.
Seojun's dominance rolled on.
No Danseong player could check him 1v1. Bigs? Speed kills. Smalls? Power crush. Checkmate.
"Haha, post-up game's leaped forward. As expected... One month to wreck HS? Plenty."
Team support solid too.
"Can't sleep on Kim Chang-min and Shin Subin. Double Seojun? Instant payback."
Done deal.
"Sangwon sweeps every remaining HS tourney this year. Obvious."
Premature? Maybe to some. Park Eun-ho? Certain.
Unstoppable bigman = that power.
And whoever bags him reshapes college ball next year.
Or pro draft straight out.
Offense ain't diverse, but that kit's enough. KBL bigs lean mercs anyway...
Then.
A Seojun play that made his eyes pop.
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Read 30 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
https://noveldex.io/series/the-freak-athletes-nba-journey
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