Nash remained frozen near the free-throw line, his knees still weak. The laughter that had filled the gym only moments ago had vanished, replaced by an uncomfortable silence.
He could feel dozens of eyes staring at him, every single one of them. His face burned with embarrassment, humiliation written all over it.
His mind raced desperately. Think... come up with something... anything... Maybe the floor had been slippery. Maybe he hadn’t been paying attention. Maybe... maybe Lucas had simply gotten lucky.
That had to be it. There was no way some rookie who had supposedly never played organized basketball could get past him that easily. No way.
Lucas, meanwhile, stood there holding the basketball with an almost puzzled expression, as though he genuinely didn’t understand why everyone had suddenly gone quiet.
To him, he had simply done what Nash told him to do.
Across the court, even the coach looked stunned. For several long seconds, nobody moved, and the atmosphere became so awkward it almost felt suffocating.
Lucas finally looked around, frowned, and clapped his hands loudly. "What?
You guys acting like the game’s over already?
Come on! Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for tomorrow?
We’re playing Northlake University again, right?"
The sharp clap echoed through the gym, snapping everyone back to reality. Players blinked, a few coughed awkwardly, while others quickly looked away as though nothing unusual had happened.
The coach cleared his throat, walked toward Lucas, and quickly regained his usual stern expression.
Folding his arms, he said, "Don’t let one basket get to your head. Tomorrow isn’t practice. It’s war. Northlake isn’t going to take it easy on us. If you really want to be part of this team... then prove you belong."
Lucas smiled faintly. "So we really are playing Northlake again." Interesting.
That saved him the trouble of looking for them himself.
He casually tossed the basketball back to the coach. "Fine. Let’s practice."
The coach immediately blew his whistle. "Everyone! Back to work!"
The players quickly split into groups, and the morning session resumed.
For the next hour they went through the usual routine~layup lines, ball-handling drills, passing exercises, three-point shooting, fast-break transitions, defensive slides, full-court conditioning, and finally shooting drills with defenders closing out hard.
Lucas quietly followed every drill.
Compared to the veterans, his movements were still rough. He occasionally missed an open jumper, and sometimes his footwork looked a little stiff.
Yet every few minutes he would suddenly do something that made everyone stop and stare~a perfectly timed steal, a no-look pass, or a smooth pull-up three.
It became almost impossible to figure him out. Even the coach couldn’t read him anymore.
Was he truly a beginner... or was he pretending?
Finally, the whistle sounded again.
"Scrimmage!"
Everyone immediately perked up. Now things were getting serious. The coach divided everyone into two teams.
Today’s scrimmage wasn’t just another practice~it would help determine tomorrow’s lineup against Northlake University.
Every possession mattered.
Lucas was placed with the second unit, and the moment the game started, he realized something.
Nobody wanted him involved.
Whenever he got open, the ball went somewhere else.
Even when he called for it, his teammates acted as though they couldn’t hear him. It almost looked like they were intentionally playing four-on-five.
Across the court, several players smirked.
"If he never touches the ball..."
"He can’t impress Coach."
Simple.
Lucas didn’t complain. He simply kept moving~running, setting screens, cutting to the basket, playing defense, waiting for opportunities.
Eventually, a careless pass from the opposing side bounced loose. Lucas reacted first, snatching the ball before anyone else.
Without hesitation~
He stepped behind the three-point line.
Released.
Swish.
Nothing but net.
The next possession was almost identical. Another loose ball. Another three. Then another steal. Another three.
Before long, every player on the court had noticed the pattern.
Nobody wanted to pass Lucas the basketball.
So Lucas simply took it himself.
Every single time his hands touched the ball...
Ashford scored.
The team captain slowly narrowed his eyes. He had spent years leading Ashford University’s basketball team.
He had seen talented players before... but never anything like this. Lucas wasn’t dominating because the offense ran through him.
He was dominating despite his own teammates trying to freeze him out.
Even stranger, his teammates had quietly become his biggest defenders~not against the opposing team, but against Lucas himself.
Whenever he got open, they ignored him. Whenever he found good positioning, they clogged the lane. It almost felt like they were playing against him instead of with him.
Yet somehow...
Lucas still found ways to get the basketball.
And every single time...
He made them pay.
The coach stood silently near the sideline, his whistle hanging around his neck as his expression slowly turned serious.
This wasn’t luck anymore. Not after the fifth shot. Not after the sixth. Something... was very different about this rookie.
After nearly three hours of practice~or, more accurately, three hours of chasing loose balls because his teammates barely let him touch the basketball~the coach finally blew the whistle.
"That’s it! Practice is over!"
The players let out exhausted sighs as they wiped the sweat from their faces.
Lucas wasn’t even breathing hard.
The coach walked over with a clipboard in one hand and a small duffel bag in the other.
Without saying much, he pulled out his phone and added Lucas to the team’s group chat.
A notification immediately popped up.
Ashford University Basketball Team
Lucas Gray has joined the group.
The coach then tossed him a folded practice jersey.
"Locker number twenty-three."
He followed it with a pair of shorts, a warm-up jacket, and an official basketball travel bag with the Ashford logo stitched across the front.
"Congratulations," the coach said flatly. "You’re officially on the team."
Lucas caught everything with one hand.
No celebration.
No speech.
Just another step completed.
The coach glanced around at the rest of the players before raising his voice.
"Listen up!"
"Everyone needs to be back here before dawn tomorrow."
"The school bus leaves at six sharp."
"We’re heading to Northlake University."
The atmosphere instantly became serious.
Tomorrow wasn’t another practice.
It was the tournament.
"If we win..."
"We’re going to the finals."
A brief pause.
"If we lose..."
He shrugged.
"We come home. Same story as every other year."
Nobody laughed.
Nobody even smiled.
The words hit a little too close to home.
Ashford had entered this tournament year after year...
And year after year, they’d gone home disappointed.
No championships.
No trophies.
No glory.
Just another early exit.
The players quietly dispersed to collect their belongings.
Lucas carried his new equipment outside without saying much.
He opened the passenger door of his Bugatti, casually tossed the entire basketball bag onto the leather seat, then climbed behind the wheel.
The engine came to life with a deep, thunderous growl.
Heads immediately turned.
Several players who had been walking toward the dorms stopped in their tracks.
Others couldn’t help staring as the glossy black Bugatti idled beside the court.
"...Must be nice."
"Yeah."
"Pulling up to basketball practice in a Bugatti."
One player snorted.
"So what?"
"He thinks owning an expensive car makes him a basketball player?"
Another laughed.
"You can’t buy handles."
"You can’t buy championships either."
A third player folded his arms.
"Tomorrow he’s going to get exposed."
"Then we’ll see if that Bugatti can score points for him."
A few others nodded in agreement.
Their jealousy was obvious.
Lucas heard every word.
He simply smiled to himself.
People loved pretending money didn’t matter...
Usually because they didn’t have any.
Without saying a single word, Lucas lightly tapped the accelerator.
The Bugatti let out another deep roar before smoothly pulling away from the basketball court.
Within seconds, the sleek hypercar disappeared through the campus road, leaving behind nothing but the fading sound of its engine...
And a group of players whose expressions had become even uglier than before.