In the evening, the streetball court was already crowded with spectators waiting for the game. Two tall guys, dressed in blue sports outfits and matching worn-out blue-and-white sneakers, approached Ming You and agreed to his bet.
"Heh, Shi Lei, are we accidentally going to crush this brat?" said the stocky, muscular guy with messy dark hair.
"You're right, Hong Ji," agreed the taller guy with short hair, looking down arrogantly at Ming You. "Two against one might be unfair against a runt like you, but money matters more than reputation. So, shall we play? We'll give you a chance to walk away while you still can."
"I don't like rules either, so I'm fine with it," Ming You replied with a smirk, matching Hong Ji's grin.
"You really are crazy! Then let's begin. Fine, I'll give you an advantage—you can start the game."
The crowd had already started placing bets. Most shouted toward the game organizer: "I bet on Shi Lei and Hong Ji!" or "I'm betting on the two giants!" But a few placed small sums, mostly coins, on Ming You, drawn by his unshakable confidence and the hope that his appearance might be deceiving.
"Sung Wo, start it!" shouted a short, muscular man with black hair, wearing an unzipped black leather jacket.
Sitting on a bench near the out-of-bounds line, he called over another man in a black leather jacket, slightly taller with marginally longer hair.
This was the referee, who nodded silently toward the bench. He picked up a worn-out size-five ball and walked to the center line, whistling with his lips to address the players:
"Bets for the first ball are placed. After the first scored point, each of you can either add to your bet or change it. But remember, if you change your bet—the initial amount is forfeited, even if the player you originally bet on wins. Game time is—"
"I don't give a damn about your spectators, just start already!" Ming You interrupted with feigned arrogance.
Sung Wo clenched his teeth at the audacity, while the two opponents smirked, especially Shi Lei, who laughed loudly:
"Haha, you've got no shortage of nerve, you little punk."
Ming You ignored him and stepped back, ready to take the ball.
Sung Wo whistled again and made the throw-in. The ball flew upward, but none of the players jumped. Shi Lei was taller than his opponent but decided to give him an advantage—without jumping, he tapped the ball toward Ming You.
Ming You caught the ball with one hand and took a sharp step back, starting his dribble and thinking:
"Alright, two opponents aren't a problem if I can trick them. I've already prepared something, and it's going to help me soon."
He stepped forward, warming up, speeding up his dribble slightly and deftly passing the ball from hand to hand.
"First, I need to create the illusion of weakness. Let them think I'm no threat. That'll buy me time to prepare, and they won't pay attention to the clock. Against gamblers like these, this plan is perfect."
Ming You noticed the two players looking at him with disdain.
"Ji, just look at him."
"Hahaha! Does he actually think he stands a chance?"
Shi Lei stepped closer, ready to intimidate the attacker.
"This'll be an easy win."
"Yeah, he has no idea who he's dealing with," added Hong Ji, smirking.
Ming You moved slowly toward the basket, pretending to take his time, but his mind was racing:
"First scenario: double coverage. All I need to do in this case is slow down. Second scenario: they underestimate me, and it'll be simple—just accelerate. Backup plan: a risky shot."
The opponents, confident in their strength, began closing in, preparing to attack.
"You take the rim, and I'll mess with him," said Shi Lei.
"Fine, play with him a bit. He's pretty slow, so don't strain yourself," Hong Ji agreed, running to the basket.
Shi Lei nodded and took up a defensive stance against Ming You.
"What idiots they are," Ming You thought, smirking to himself as Shi Lei crouched into a defensive posture.
He abruptly changed direction, darting left, then swiftly spun right, leaving the defender behind.
"Huh?"
Leaving Shi Lei baffled, Ming You, without slowing down, blew past Hong Ji, who didn't even have time to react.
The next moment, under the basket, he jumped lightly and softly tossed the ball in. The shot was so clean it didn't even touch the rim.
"How'd he do that?" Hong Ji whispered, stunned.
"That was just luck," Shi Lei brushed it off, though his voice lacked confidence.
"Maybe this guy's got some skill. Should we take it a bit more seriously?"
"Agreed, but don't overdo it. He's still just a kid," Shi Lei and Hong Ji smirked, positioning themselves near their three-point line.
Ming You overheard their conversation and smiled to himself.
"Heh, they genuinely think it's just luck and don't realize this is only the beginning. Next step—make them waste their energy."
He sharply increased his pace, playing aggressively and forcing his opponents to chase him around the court. His low center of gravity and quick feet gave him the advantage—every time the defenders tried to pressure him, he dodged deftly with sharp changes of direction.
Shi Lei tried to block his path, but Ming You instantly crouched, faked a shoulder move, and slipped right under his arm.
Hong Ji lunged to the side, but it was too late—Ming You's shorter stature and flexibility let him escape even from seemingly hopeless situations.
He used every opportunity to slip away, leaving the defenders confused.
"Looks like the plan's working," Ming You whispered to himself. "Make them go all out. They'll tire soon, and then I can deliver the finishing blow. But for now, let them keep their false confidence."
Ming You retreated to the three-point line and prepared to shoot.
"Haha, who's underestimating who here?" As soon as Ming You jumped to shoot, Shi Lei blocked the shot and snatched the ball.
"Could've let him take the shot. He'd have missed anyway," Hong Ji smirked.
"Seems like he's hopeless," someone from the crowd said.
"Let's score a couple dozen points first before we see him beg us to go easy so he doesn't end up in debt," Shi Lei sneered, rhythmically tapping the ball on the cracked asphalt. His gaze slid over Ming You, gauging his reaction. "You know how these little runts whine when they lose money."
Ming You silently watched as his opponent effortlessly passed the ball from hand to hand, showing clear superiority.
"I could snatch the ball now, but then they'd start playing seriously…" flashed through his mind.
He deliberately let Shi Lei pass, barely pretending to interfere.
Shi Lei, sensing weakness, accelerated sharply, easily bypassing Ming You, and slammed the ball into the hoop with a dull thud, making the metal rim shudder.
"Heh, what idiots…" Ming You chuckled to himself, stepping back.
"Not bad, but let me have some fun with him too," Hong Ji exclaimed, moving away from the basket.
"Whatever," Shi Lei agreed without objection, positioning himself near the rim.
When Hong Ji stepped up on defense, his confident smirk said it all—he was sure he could handle Ming You easily. Ming You, ignoring the taunts, kept a stone face, methodically dribbling the ball, maintaining his rhythm.
"Come on, kid, entertain me while you can," Hong Ji laughed, spreading his arms as if inviting an attack.
The response was immediate. The next moment, the ball flew into his face, bouncing back to Ming You, who dashed forward, leaving the defender stunned.
"You motherfucker!" Hong Ji roared, rubbing his nose and giving chase.
"Hey, Hong Ji, don't embarrass me," Shi Lei said coldly, cutting off Ming You's path.
Ming You wasn't in a hurry. A few sharp dribbles between his legs—first right, then left—and the defender faltered for a split second. That was enough. Ming You dodged sharply to the side, leaving Shi Lei empty-handed.
"Haha, you fell for it, idiot!" Hong Ji yelled, already under the basket, arms wide, blocking all shooting angles.
But Ming You wasn't planning a standard shot. Instead, he jumped sharply… behind the backboard, drawing mockery.
"This idiot jumped behind the rim! How arrogant!" Shi Lei sneered.
Hong Ji laughed too, but his laughter died when the ball, released from behind the backboard, arced perfectly into the net.
"Huh?!" the crowd gasped in unison.
Ming You was already walking to the line, not even sparing them a glance.
"This time, let's take him seriously," Shi Lei said, glancing at Hong Ji, his voice firm, no trace of joking.
Hong Ji just nodded silently, gripping the ball tightly, his fingers digging into the leather. Meanwhile, Shi Lei ran closer to the rim, ready for a quick pass, his eyes locked on his opponent, waiting for the right moment to attack.
"You're pretty lucky," Hong Ji smirked, making a sharp fake—he raised the ball as if about to hurl it at Ming You's face.
But Ming You didn't bite. Thanks to his planned provocation, he knew the first attempt this round was just a bluff. His reaction was lightning-fast—his hand shot out, intercepting the ball's trajectory.
Smack!
The ball slipped from Hong Ji's hands and into Ming You's.
Shi Lei shouted irritably, waving his arm:
"Damn it, Hong Ji, I have to do everything myself! Get to the rim!"
Hong Ji gritted his teeth but didn't respond. He spun sharply and headed for the basket, his eyes burning with determination to redeem himself.
Meanwhile, Shi Lei switched to hard defense. He crouched low, arms wide, completely cutting off space. Any attempt to break through or shoot now seemed impossible.
"Now's the moment," Ming You told himself as Hong Ji moved to the rim and Shi Lei took his serious defensive stance. "Time for the final maneuver."
For a few seconds, Shi Lei and Ming You stood facing each other, the crowd holding its breath. The defender was full of confidence, but a moment later, his face twisted in shock.
"What the…" Shi Lei muttered, feeling the ground vanish beneath him.
"There's a monster on the court!" someone from the crowd yelled.
Ming You began his fake with a sharp shift right, forcing the defender to instinctively step that way. But before Shi Lei could react, Ming You whipped the ball behind his back with his left hand while faking a step left. It made the defender think he was breaking that way.
Then came the lightning-fast crossover—the ball snapped back in front, and Ming You's body swayed the opposite direction. Shi Lei, trying to guess the trajectory, lost his balance. Ming You added a quick double between-the-legs—right, then left—creating the illusion the ball had vanished and reappeared.
The speed and fluidity made it seem like one continuous motion. For a second, the spectators and Shi Lei swore they weren't seeing one player but several—as if Ming You had four heads, eight arms, and multiple balls at once.
When the defender thought Ming You was about to shoot, he suddenly raised his hands, faking a jump. Shi Lei, fooled, leaped into the air, but the ball was already gone—Ming You simply dropped it and slipped past like he was dodging a child.
"What the f…" Shi Lei muttered in disbelief.
Hong Ji was already at the rim, tightly covering Ming You, but he wasn't rushing to attack. Instead of shooting, he abruptly raised the ball, faking a shot, and Hong Ji reacted instantly—jumping high to block it.
"Don't underestimate us, brat!" he shouted, certain he'd stop the attack.
But Ming You wasn't playing by his rules. With a sly grin, he took two sharp steps back, escaping the defense, and released the ball in a flawless arc—nothing but net, leaving Hong Ji seething in helpless rage.
"Holy shit, he's unstoppable!" a spectator yelled, jumping to his feet.
The stands erupted, though most were unhappy their bets had gone up in smoke:
"Hey! This is rigged! No way a runt beats two giants!"
"Exactly! Where's our money?!"
Then a whistle blew.
"Time's up. Score is 3-2 in favor of the solo player," the referee announced, raising a hand toward Ming You.
"What? How? What time?" Hong Ji exclaimed, confused, glancing at the scoreboard. He was sure there were still a few seconds left.
"Idiot, he made us lose track of time," Shi Lei cut in sharply, fists clenched.
After the tense game, with Ming You victorious, his opponents stared at him in disbelief.
"You're not just a player," one of the organizers said, rubbing the back of his head as he approached. "You're a mad player."
Ming You just smirked playfully and took the money.
"So your strategy was to distract us from the clock?" Shi Lei asked roughly.
"You're not as idiot as you look, unlike your buddy here."
"Listen here, you fucking faggot, watch your mouth! Now that the game's over, the rules don't apply here!" Hong Ji snarled, raising his fist at Ming You.
"Just calm down," Shi Lei grabbed Hong Ji's arm and continued, "We underestimated him, that's all. But if you want a rematch, come back anytime."
Hong Ji clenched his teeth, while Ming You began gathering his things.
Tucking the money into his pocket, he left the court with a sense of triumph, walking down the sidewalk.
"Because of my past circumstances, my mind had nearly forgotten—I'm a talent. A real talent. No one can be more talented than me. And even if someone is..."
Ming You remembered dismembering bodies. The way his kitchen knife sliced through skin, carved through flesh, and scraped against bone. A faint arousal ran through him, but he quickly shook his head, regaining his composure.
"Murder is only for a purpose. I can't let my desires get me caught by the police."
As he passed by a bus stop, Ming You noticed a newspaper lying on the bench.
He picked it up and skimmed through the pages until he found the rental listings.
One black-and-white image caught his eye—a three-story apartment building. A one-bedroom unit, minimalist in design.
"Just four blocks from here... the closest and most practical option for me."
Ming You dialed the number listed in the newspaper and called the landlord. Feigning politeness, he arranged a meeting and headed toward the building.
About thirty minutes later, he arrived—a three-story residential complex on quiet streets where cars were rare, mostly just motorcycles.
"Are you Ming You?" A short man in his mid-twenties called out from behind.
He had short chestnut hair and wore a blue shirt with jeans.
Ming You forced a smile and replied confidently:
"Yes, that's me. Honestly, I'm in a hurry, so let's make this quick."
"No problem, but maybe we should see the apartment first?"
Ming You nodded silently, and together, they headed upstairs.
Reaching the third floor, they passed two neighboring doors before entering the apartment. The place was empty and clean—a mirror opposite the entrance, a door to the bedroom on the left, and farther down, the bathroom and kitchen.
Keeping their shoes on, they walked to the kitchen and sat at the table. After filling out the paperwork, Ming You pulled out several stacks of cash and placed them on the table.
"Six months' rent sound good?"
"Perfect!"
Once the landlord left, Ming You stepped into the bedroom and surveyed it—a large wooden wardrobe to the right of the door, a small bed to the left. Straight ahead was a window with closed curtains. A desk sat by the window, covered in blank papers and playing cards, with an ordinary kitchen chair opposite it.
Ming You sat on the chair, tilting his head back as he glanced at his phone.
"Yoshido High School... close to home, and nothing remarkable about it... that works in my favor."