Chapter One: Trading Words with Kobe
[NBA's Top Ten Clashes.]
[NBA Game-Winning Highlights.]
[Classic NBA Games.]
Before going to bed, Xinghui He scrolled through these videos once more.
How incredible it would be if I could dominate the court like that, he thought wistfully.
To be a basketball star—blessed with a powerful physique, gaining fame and fortune, and, if you play well, bringing glory to your country.
At midnight, Xinghui put down his phone and readied himself for sleep. Of course, he couldn’t do without a little pre-sleep daydreaming.
Perhaps, after being reborn and traversing time, I might become an NBA player and unleash havoc on the court.
...
“Hahaha, NBA, here I come! The championship is mine, the MVP is mine! Megan Fox, Britney, and Taylor Swift—they’ll all be mine, and Jason Statham, you can have him...”
In his heart, Xinghui let out a somewhat juvenile shout.
When he woke, his dream had become reality. He found himself back in December 2005, now a water boy for the Clippers named Xinghui He.
No longer did he have to envy the superstars on the court, nor pine for the novels about mowing down rivals—now, he could experience it all himself, perhaps even rewrite history.
“Put me in, coach, put me in! Only by playing can I turn things around,” he muttered to himself, watching as Kobe dominated on the court.
Although he had been reborn as an NBA player, he was, in truth, nothing more than a benchwarmer—an unremarkable water boy.
His skills were lacking, and so far, he hadn’t logged a single minute on the court.
But Xinghui wasn’t worried. Heaven had gifted him an “Art System” upon his rebirth.
The system’s name sounded refined, but in reality, it was a trash talk system—requiring its host to unleash a dazzling barrage of verbal jabs at everyone and everything.
Whenever his trash talk riled up an opponent, the system could collect their anger and convert it into power for Xinghui.
He wasn’t naturally inclined to run his mouth, but to improve, to face the league’s best, to realize his basketball dreams—even if it meant becoming the most disliked player in the league, the king of trash talk, he was willing.
Trash talk is a part of the game; when done well, it’s an art form.
He wasn’t Deidara, but at this moment, he yearned to be an ambassador for art.
In the eighth minute of the second quarter, Coach Mike Dunleavy seemed to read Xinghui’s thoughts and subbed him in for Jaroslav—the Clippers’ 12th overall pick in this year’s draft, whose career averages were a mighty 1.1 points, 0.5 rebounds, and 0.4 assists.
It was a very Clippers kind of pick.
Having given Jaroslav several chances, Coach Dunleavy was at his wit’s end. This was the twelfth pick—a lottery pick! Even Kobe was only picked thirteenth.
Jaroslav was a lost cause. Dunleavy decided to try cultivating Xinghui, this rookie plucked by Detroit at sixtieth overall, whom the Clippers had traded their own thirty-second pick to acquire.
Why swap the thirty-second for the sixtieth?
Manager Elgin Baylor’s enigmatic decisions were nothing new to Dunleavy. In any case, he would never admit that the Clippers missing the playoffs for nine straight years was his own fault.
“Hey, Xingzai finally gets a chance! Hope he can seize the moment and show what he’s got.”
CCTV was broadcasting the game, since Xinghui He—an unknown even in China—was playing, along with the scoring machine and fan favorite, Kobe Bryant.
Xinghui was 1.97 meters tall, played shooting guard, with no standout skills and plenty of weaknesses—scoring, rebounding, playmaking, and defense.
Only his defensive attitude wasn’t entirely hopeless—a rookie’s last shred of pride.
He understood his own strengths and weaknesses as clearly laid out on his attribute sheet.
Xinghui He: Height 1.97m, Wingspan 2.10m, Weight 80kg.
Talents: Strength D, Speed C, Vertical C.
Shooting: Three-point D, Mid-range D, Finishing D.
Skills: Ball-handling D, Passing D, Steals D.
Defense: On-ball D, Help D.
Overall Evaluation: King among high schoolers, a super water boy in the NBA—best suited to guarding fringe scorers during garbage time.
Friendly reminder: Do not match up against star players unless you wish to invite disaster.
The stats were abysmal, but Xinghui was delighted; in his previous life, he’d been a benchwarmer even in junior high.
Now, at least he was king of high school ball—a considerable improvement.
Stepping beside Kobe, Xinghui took a deep breath. Next up, he would have to taunt one of the four great shooting guards, a man about to average 35 points per game this season.
Were it not for the surreal experience of rebirth and the system, his legs would be trembling right now.
“Hey man, nice moves out there. What’s your name?” Xinghui smiled warmly, his demeanor like a gentle breeze.
Yet his words made Kobe frown.
I’m the best scorer in this league, do I need praise from a rookie? And what’s with asking my name—don’t you know who I am?
[13 Anger Points from Kobe Bryant.]
The system’s prompt left Xinghui somewhat disappointed; that was hardly any anger at all. Just raising a stat from D to C took 100 points, and from C to B a whopping 500.
Professional athletes had nerves of steel. The world was so beautiful, yet they hardly ever lost their cool. Not ideal, not ideal.
Xinghui sighed inwardly.
The game continued. The Lakers advanced the ball, and as soon as they crossed half court, Smush Parker felt as if the laws of physics had changed—the ball suddenly felt like a hot potato.
He quickly passed it to Kobe.
Kobe backed down Xinghui, and with a single move, Xinghui was out of position.
Such power—he’s a beast.
Xinghui was helpless. He really wanted to tell Kobe: “Sixteen years from now, I’ll save you and your daughter. Could you go easy on me today?”
But he figured saying something like that would only get him labeled a lunatic and beaten up.
“Spin, fadeaway, shot—beautiful!”
Zhang “Bryant” Weiping couldn’t help but cheer, then caught himself and added, “Xingzai’s defense was okay this time, just outmuscled—nothing to be ashamed of, very few in the league can guard Kobe.”
“Welcome to the NBA, rookie.”
Kobe wasn’t much for trash talk, but guessing that Xinghui had just tried to get under his skin, he didn’t mind crushing a rookie’s spirit.
“Shut up, you’re the guy who can’t make the playoffs without Shaq.”
Kobe’s trash talk had little effect on Xinghui; after all, he’d been a loser before, while Kobe had sixty million fans and was nearly a basketball god.
When a god mocks a mortal, the mortal only feels honored, not upset.
But Xinghui’s retort hit Kobe where it hurt.
Kobe knew it was just trash talk, but he couldn’t control his reaction. It was like being called ugly when you already knew you were.
Of all things, Kobe hated hearing that his championships were thanks to Shaq—even if it was true.
Ever since O’Neal left the Lakers, Kobe had been desperate to prove himself. Yet last season, his first leading the team alone, the Lakers missed the playoffs.
To have a rookie throw this black mark in his face—how could he not be angry?
He swore he’d make this rookie pay.
[99 Anger Points from Kobe Bryant.]
The system’s alert made Xinghui beam with delight—clearly, the key was to hit their sore spots.
Now what to choose?
With over 100 anger points accumulated, Xinghui could perform some system actions.
He had two options: use them to upgrade any D-level attribute to C-level—a small but permanent boost—or buy a one-time-use item from the system shop.
Upgrading attributes was a long-term investment, and definitely more worthwhile. But Xinghui knew that even if he raised his three-point shot from D to C, it wouldn’t help immediately. Smush Parker’s three-point attribute was C, and how many threes did he make per game?
He leaned toward buying a single-use item; only by standing out in this game could he gain the coach’s trust, and thus more playing time.
As long as he got on the court, he could keep harvesting anger.
So, Xinghui purchased the “Curry Three-Point Shooting Pack,” effective for three minutes.
Once activated, his three-point accuracy would skyrocket for the next three minutes.