NBA: GIANT KILLING

The night passed without incident. Early in the morning, Oliver got up and completed his tasks one by one according to the requirements. Fortunately, he had been exercising regularly, so the soreness from the previous day had mostly subsided.

While he was running laps on the field, he noticed a solitary man suddenly who looked like he was waiting for him.

It was none other than Aina University's coach, Boeheim. With a satisfied smile, he walked close to Oliver and said;

"Hardworking. That's a great quality to have. Do you still want to be a part of the team? Why did you run off so fast yesterday?"

"Ah… I just suddenly remembered I had something to do…" Oliver tried to brush it off. He couldn't possibly admit that playing just mere two rounds of basketball had left him so exhausted that his muscles cramped up.

"Do you still want to join the team?" Coach Boeheim asked, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Unlike the NBA, where teams are built around star players, the NCAA follows a coach-centric model. This makes it easier to control the team.

Since the head coach was personally inviting him, it was likely that he had seen yesterday's game.

But then, the coach's tone shifted. "Your ball-handling and offensive rhythm are outstanding—on par with some of the best players I've ever seen, if not better. However, your physical attributes… fall short of the mark."

Oh…

Another person who only looks at his height.

Oliver started to feel disappointed.

"But," Boeheim continued, "if your playmaking skills can meet our standards, I don't mind starting you as Eina University's point guard."

Truthfully, Boeheim was a little nervous. He feared that his blunt words might scare away this potentially talented young player.

Almost all talented players he has ever come across had great self-pride. He was afraid Oliver will take offense to his words.

Oliver thought for a moment and asked,

"How can I prove my playmaking ability?"

Hearing this, Boeheim secretly sighed in relief and quickly responded, "In ten days, the NCAA season officially begins in November. You know that, right?"

Oliver nodded. He knew that.

That's why he was rushing to try out and prove himself.

Seeing that Oliver understood, Boeheim continued, "If I were to replace a starter at this point, you'd need to prove in our first game against Alabama Academy that your ability to control the game is better than Klint'."

Ten days? That was perfect for Oliver.

After some thought, he agreed.

"I won't let you down, Coach. I'll see you in the gym tomorrow. Now, will you please excuse me? I still need to finish a couple of laps." 

Boeheim gave him a meaningful look before watching him begin his practice. He couldn't help but feel excited.

Such impressive athletic ability paired with this level of dedication… This kid was a potential superstar.

If only fate had been kinder—if Oliver were just ten centimeters taller…

Still, he knew of players who managed to break through the stereotypes. It takes a special kind of person to fight tooth and nail through all obstacles set by their own physical limitations.

He has this weird feeling that this player might be one of those.

Ten days flew by. Every day, Oliver diligently followed his grueling and extensive training schedule.

It wasn't always easy. He had a weird place in the team.

Some of the players were very welcoming, they witnessed his capabilities during his tryout, and they knew how great of a player he actually is.

However, there were still those who weren't happy with his presence in the court.

Leading those group of people was Klint.

Klint was the team's starting point guard.

He was feeling a bit angry about the fact that there was a player who was obviously targeting his place on the starting five.

A shortie no less!

Everyday Klint and his cohorts would mock and annoy him whenever the coach wasn't around. Oliver never minded them and focused on practicing. He believed that his skills would do all the talking for him.

One thing that took his attention was Gorin's lack of any form of aggression towards him.

He was one of Klint's friends but he never took part in their antics.

He would stare at him without even saying a word.

It was weird but Oliver took it upon himself to focus on the task at hand.

He was always the first to arrive and the last to leave.

It was taxing, but he persevered.

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However, there was an unexpected reward. On the fifth day, the system granted him a special item:

Consumable: Energy Card

No matter where it was applied, it instantly restored muscles to peak condition. For Oliver, who trained from morning until night, this was a godsend!

With this boon, he could now use any Player Template Experience Card without worrying about stamina. No more playing just two rounds before running out of energy.

As he finished his lap, Oliver eagerly awaited the system's next reward.

The system's voice chimed in:

"Ding! Congratulations! You have received a card: Mr. Stepback"

"James Harden!"

Oliver was stunned. The Beard himself!

And this was peak Harden!

Rockets Harden, not strip club Harden!

Harden was a master of both playmaking and scoring.

His step-back three-pointers had once terrorized defenders across the league.

His ability to create shots was so unpredictable that defenders struggled to anticipate his next move.

Now, with the system granting him the abilities of the Beard himself, Oliver couldn't wait for tomorrow's game.

'This…this won't give me his beard, right?'

Every night after the team's practice, he would tirelessly repeat the system's training tasks.

Even though the system allowed him to gain the abilities of various basketball stars, Oliver understood one thing:

Only by training his body to its absolute limits could he fully utilize those abilities.

Otherwise, even the most powerful skills would mean nothing if his body couldn't handle them.

Finally, after 10 days of training…

The day of the game arrived.

Before tipoff, Boeheim gathered the team for final instructions and announced the starting lineup for today's game.

"For today's game, our starting point guard will be…" he began.

Klint acted tough but deep inside, he couldn't help but be a bit nervous. He believed he was the better option, but he saw what happened at the gym 10 days ago. 

'No way the coach would pick that lanky shortie.'

He looked at Oliver, who looked so calm. That didn't help his anxiety. He was just about to lose it until…

"Klint." The coach continued.

"Oliver, you'll be on the bench."

Pure relief.

Klint, with a great smile fist bumped with some of his friends.

After the meeting, the players dispersed.

Klint turned to Oliver, smirking with mockery.

"You're just a small clown. Even if you made the team, what good is it?"

He was trying to rile Oliver up.

"You won't even get playing time. Just sit tight and watch us play."

Seeing that it didn't work, he started to walk with the starters. 

Oliver responded coolly, "Enjoy this match while it lasts. It might be your last one as a starter."

Briefly stopping on his tracks, Klint started trembling with anger, but he still continued his way to the court.

Now that Oliver had the system, Klint was nothing in his eyes.

What surprised Oliver, though, was that Gorin—who was one of the first to mock him last time—was still not joining in this time. Instead, he was silently repeating his warm-up drills, focusing intently.

After reviewing strategies, Boeheim approached Oliver and sat beside him.

"Are you disappointed that I didn't start you?" The coach asked earnestly.

"Yes." Oliver didn't even bother to hide his disappointment.

The coach just smiled and said,

"We're starting with our classic playstyle. In the first quarter, just observe. This is a test of how quickly you can analyze the game.

Then, in the second quarter, I'll put you in.

At that point, use your court vision and chemistry to lead the team to victory."

Boeheim gave Oliver a knowing look.

"I'm not asking you to just play, I'm telling you to lead."

Oliver nodded seriously.

Truthfully, his gamble on this short Asian player wasn't just because of his flashy one-on-one skills.

Eina University's point guards had always been too traditional—they held the ball too long, were inefficient, and lacked the ability to revive the team in tough situations.

Worse, they prioritized personal heroics over team success.

Klint was a prime example. Though he was talented, he often chased highlight plays at the cost of executing proper tactics.

As a result, the team frequently lost games they shouldn't have lost.

But there was no choice—until now, Klint had been the only one capable of handling the position in actual games.

Oliver's arrival, however, gave Boeheim hope.

If this undersized guard could combine efficiency with flair while possessing a strong tactical mindset, Aina University's strength would skyrocket.

Height? That was just a minor issue.

It's not the size of the dog in a fight, right?

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Oliver acknowledged Boeheim's plan with a slight nod, but deep inside a fire was lit in him.

"BEEP——!"

With the referee's whistle, the ball was tossed high into the air.

Let the game begin!