Thud, thud, thud. The rhythmic sound of a basketball hitting the floor echoed through the gym.
Jay was drenched in sweat, training relentlessly. Ever since he got promoted to the first team, he had imagined dominating the court with the help of his system. But to his disappointment, the "dog system" required him to train hard to unlock its full potential.
For the past month, Jay had been tirelessly honing his skills, but consistent playing time remained elusive.
In yesterday's game against USC, he played 25 minutes, took five three-point shots, and made three of them. Combined with a layup that drew a foul and a free throw, he scored 11 points.
Thankfully, his excellent vision and passing ability also earned him 5 assists.
Still, those 25 minutes marked his most court time in recent games.
Jay had underestimated his competition. He had thought that only players destined for the NBA were worth paying attention to. However, the NCAA had plenty of talented players who posed significant challenges.
Of course, "talented" was relative—mostly in comparison to himself.
Jay usually played as a guard, occasionally filling in at small forward. However, his average physical conditioning made him an easy target for opposing small forwards, which frustrated him to no end.
"Jay? Still putting in extra work? Be careful not to get injured. I'll need those passes from you come March," said Julius Randle.
"Julius, don't worry. As long as you want the ball, I'll make sure it gets to you," Jay replied with a grin, walking over to greet him. "What brings you to the gym today?"
"I'm here to see Coach. Don't leave yet; wait for me, and we'll head out together," Randle said as he disappeared into the coach's office.
Jay chuckled as he watched him go, then turned back to continue his training. As a time traveler, Jay knew full well who the real star of the team was—Julius Randle, the player he'd just greeted.
Randle, known for his toughness, was the Kentucky Wildcats' star player and would be selected by the Lakers in the 2014 draft. Although Randle would later be traded, he was unquestionably a star in the NCAA.
Jay's assists mostly went to Randle—it was the easiest way to rack up his stats.
After some more practice, Jay sat down to rest and opened his attribute panel.
Host: Jay Sun
Layup: 53 (60)
Dunk: 31 (50)
Three-Point: 68 (80)
Mid-Range: 61 (70)
Dribbling: 55 (60)
Passing: 70
Perimeter Defense: 55 (60)
Stealing: 25 (40)
Blocking: 29 (35)
Rebounding: 37 (45)
Interior Defense: 28 (37)
Height: 195 cm
Wingspan: 203 cm
Dynamic Athletic Ability: C (C+)
Looking at the panel, Jay noticed a pattern. Attributes with higher caps improved more quickly, while those with lower caps grew much more slowly.
"Man, having talent really makes a difference," Jay sighed. "People with natural gifts can just mess around and still make it to the NBA."
Unfortunately, he didn't qualify as a "natural talent." The true phenoms included players like Andrew Wiggins, the projected first overall pick this year.
Jay's passing stat had stagnated at 70, and he knew he had hit his ceiling. There was no way to raise it further.
"Well, I guess it's time to rely on my cheat system," he thought with a mischievous grin.
A while later, Randle emerged from the office and called Jay to leave the gym together.
"Jay, I've got some good news for you. Coach is planning to start you in the lineup!" Randle said with a wide grin.
"Really?! That's amazing! Thanks, man. Don't worry—I'll make sure every pass gets to you," Jay said excitedly.
"Haha, never mind the passes for now. Can you help me out with something? Could you get Alice's phone number for me?" Randle asked, looking awkward and shy.
"Alice? Oh… Sure, no problem, bro. I'll have it for you tomorrow. Just wait for the good news," Jay promised, patting his chest.
"You're the best, man! I'll be counting on you. See you tomorrow!" Randle left looking thrilled.
Jay, on the other hand, stopped smiling as soon as Randle walked away. Alice? That, um… "well-endowed" classmate? He couldn't understand why people were so into that body type.
Still, the good news was that he'd finally made the starting lineup. His hard work over the past month had paid off.
Of course, building good relationships with the coach and star players was also a skill. After all, emotional intelligence is an art, and as Jay liked to joke, "Respect to the King!"
The next day's practice confirmed Randle's news. Jay was indeed training with the starting lineup, playing as a point guard. His main task was to orchestrate the offense—no ball-dominant scoring opportunities, and, frankly, he didn't have the ability for that anyway.
"Jay, good work. This is exactly what the team needs—your passing," Coach Calipari said, clearly pleased. "Keep this up, and your minutes will only increase."
"Got it, Coach," Jay replied, sweat dripping down his face.
"Alright, gentlemen, March Madness is just around the corner. I know some of you will be leaving after this tournament, but let me remind you: Only by performing well on the court will you catch the scouts' attention and secure a better future. Keep pushing, gentlemen—I hope every one of you achieves your goals."
Coach's motivational speech fired up the entire team.
"Don't worry, Coach! I'll give it my all!"
"We'll bring home the championship trophy!"
As the players voiced their promises, Jay quietly lowered his head, thinking about a serious problem.
It was common knowledge that Asian players struggled to match the physicality of Black players. Jay's biggest issue right now was stamina. He could barely handle 30 minutes of high-intensity play, and even with brief rests, he could only manage 35 minutes on the court.
"Looks like I'll need more training," Jay muttered to himself.
"Jay, how does it feel to be in the starting lineup? Pretty sweet, huh?" Randle asked, noticing Jay's silence.
Jay smirked. He knew Randle wasn't just making conversation—he was fishing for news about Alice.
"Don't worry, Randle. I already got Alice's number. I'll give it to you after practice," Jay said with a smile.
"Awesome, man! I knew I could count on you!" Randle laughed, satisfied, and walked away.
After practice, Jay handed Randle Alice's number. He didn't bother thinking about what would happen next.
Alice was just a classmate with whom he rarely interacted. Getting her number hadn't led to any dramatic misunderstandings. To Jay, it was just a favor for a friend.