Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

Halftime came with the scoreboard reading 35-46 in favor of the Huolan Guardians.

An 11-point gap now stood between the Shizi Dogs and their place in the semi-finals.

The atmosphere in the arena had shifted. While the Dogs were still in the game, tension chewed at the new fans. Experience more content on My Virtual Library Empire

"The Guardians are killing it in this game."

"I thought you said the Shizi Dogs were good? The gap isn't too large, but they're not going to win against the Guardians at this point."

"Well, the Guardians are the second best in Beijing. You can't compare that to a team that is second-best in Jilin! That state is tiny."

Meanwhile, Jilin, fans watching the game, could feel the same nervous energy. Instead of engaging in discourse, most of them stayed silent and responded to prayer, hoping the Dogs would pull through.

However, the Guardians were playing on another level. Could the Dogs even catch up?

Grandma Bingbing, watching in the comfort of their home, held onto Kai's pillow and squeezed tight.

"Come on, grandson," she said in a semi-frustrated voice. "I know you can do better than that."

In the VIP area, Calvin couldn't hide his concern, and he glanced at Zheng, hoping for some insight.

"If you were out there, what would you do? You've played with the Guardians plenty of times before," Calvin said, running a hand through his hair. His eyes stayed glued to the court, watching the Guardians celebrate their gap.

Zheng shook his head, his usual calm demeanor faltering. "I don't know." His voice was low, almost lost amid the chatter and murmurs of the crowd around them. "I really don't know."

Meanwhile, back on the court, the Shizi Dogs gathered on their bench, their faces drawn tight with frustration. The halftime break should have been a time to celebrate, too, but instead, the tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Despite the lead slipping further away, one player appeared unbothered by the situation—Kai Guo.

Kai sat at the end of the bench, his head tilted slightly down, his eyes focused on the floor. His expression was calm, far too calm for a player whose team was falling behind. Beside him, Jinping was anything but calm. He was frowning, frustration bubbling up as he watched his teammate seemingly indifferent to the game's momentum.

"What's with you?" Jinping finally snapped, unable to hold it in any longer. "Why aren't you scoring like you usually do?"

Kai didn't respond right away, his gaze still locked on the floor as if deep in thought. Jinping's words hung in the air, and the rest of the team looked over, their confusion turning into unease.

Kai was their top scorer for the Nationals—the player who led them when the pressure was highest.

But this game… something was off.

Something had been off since the second quarter began.

"Don't blame him," Lina interjected from the sidelines, her voice calm but firm. The pretty manager said something was up, but she also trusted Kai. There had to be a reason behind his actions. "Kai wouldn't hold back without a reason."

Jinping, however, wasn't convinced. His fists clenched as his irritation increased. "A reason? We're losing by 11 points! This isn't the time to hold back!"

Kai finally looked up, his eyes sharp as they met Jinping's angry gaze.

"It's on purpose," Kai said, his voice steady.

The team stared at him in shock, unable to comprehend what he meant.

On purpose?

The words rang through their heads. Jinping's frown deepened, and he stepped forward, almost ready to punch him.

"On purpose?!" Jinping repeated, his voice rising with disbelief. He could still remember the countless hours they had put into this, along with Yuze's injury. How could Kai, of all people, say he was holding back?

"You're telling us you've been holding back? Why?!" Jinping's voice was filled with frustration.

Kai remained calm under the barrage of questions, his expression unreadable. His mind drifted for a moment, his thoughts pulling him back to those days when Fang Liu had been everything he wanted to be.

Even now, despite everything, there was a part of him that respected Fang—seeing him as the player he had once idolized.

Fang, the player who had always been one step ahead. The player who had denied Kai's attempts to follow in his footsteps countless times. But even after all those rejections, Kai never held it against him. He understood why Fang had kept his distance.

He knew why Fang was how he was, and at times, he even pitied him. So, again, Kai never felt too bad about it. At least, not now.

Jinping's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Answer us!"

Kai looked up, a slow smirk forming on his lips. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest.

Then, he glanced at the bench of the Guardians, where he saw Rui talking out of his ass. He held his notebook—covered in yellow paper with his signature at the corner—and Rui acted as if it was his.

Kai had never seen him so happy before, with the rest of the Guardians looking at him and listening intently.

Kai held in the urge to scoff. Up until now, he was still using Kaiden—although he was already dead.

However, unluckily for him, the true owner of the playbook was alive.

Kai still remembered it vividly. How could he forget about it when he was the one who wrote it? Starting from when he became the Guardians' water boy, he had dedicated most of his time to analyzing their playing styles and looking for ways to amplify their individual skills.

In truth, since he couldn't play anymore, he wanted to become a coach—to lead the Huolan Guardians to the Nationals before he graduated. However, they never listened to him.

And maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

Because the universe knew that Kai would come to use it in the future.

And that future was now.