Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

The team trudged back to their sad little corner table near the dish-out area, their shoulders slouched in defeat.

The lack of banana muffins, their usual spot stolen by the French, and now the overwhelming presence of their idols—all these things compounded into one miserable morning.

Kai plopped into his chair, setting down his plate of half-warm eggs and overly toasted bread. The others followed suit, silently poking at their food like it had personally offended them.

"Why does this taste like cardboard?" Jimmy muttered, shoving his fork into the eggs.

"Because it is cardboard," Max replied dramatically, staring down at his food with dismay. "It's the taste of despair. No muffins, no dignity, no respect."

Kai didn't say much.

Around the hall, athletes from all over the world were eating and talking. Most were decked out in their uniforms while he and his teammates sat in rumpled pajamas like clueless kids who had stumbled into a professional event.

It didn't take long for the cameras to come.

Across the room, some athletes were holding up their phones, filming short videos for social media and hoping to become the next trendy athletes!

At first, Kai tried to ignore it, brushing it off as harmless content-making. But soon enough, the lenses turned toward them.

A group of athletes—in bright green and yellow uniforms with the unmistakable emblem of Australia on their chests—started walking closer.

One of them held his phone high, live-streaming the encounter. The group didn't even try to hide it as they stared at Kai and his team, amused smirks plastered across their faces.

The comments on the live started pouring in, though none of Kai's team could read them. The Australians were speaking in English, their voices loud and just mocking enough to set Kai on edge.

"What sport do you think they play?" one of them asked, turning the camera slightly so their pajamas were clearly in frame.

"I don't know. Look at their clothes," another chuckled. "Are they here for ping pong?"

The comments under the stream popped up one after another.

- "Why are they in pajamas lmao?"

- "They look like middle schoolers."

- "Is this a sleepover competition? "

- "Bet they can't even understand what you're saying."

The last comment struck a chord. The Australians seemed to pick up on that and smirked at one another before leaning in closer.

"They probably don't even know what we're saying," one of the guys joked, loud enough for Kai's team to hear.

That was the last straw.

Kai dropped his fork and turned to face them.

They seemed taken aback when he spoke, his words crisp and clear.

"We play basketball."

The room felt quieter for a moment.

They blinked, clearly surprised. The one holding the phone lowered it just slightly as he stared at Kai. "Wait, you speak English?"

Kai tilted his head slightly. "Yeah. Fluently."

Max snorted into his cup of water, nearly choking as he tried to hold back a laugh. Even Jimmy, who had been sulking all morning, looked up with newfound interest.

"Well…" the one holding the phone said, clearly trying to recover. "You guys look pretty young to be playing basketball here."

"We are young," Jimmy mumbled under his breath, loud enough for only their table to hear.

Kai leaned back in his seat, looking unimpressed. "You're the Australian team, right?"

"Yeah." The guy holding the phone puffed out his chest slightly. "And we play basketball too."

Kai let his gaze drop down to their uniforms again before glancing back up. "I think we're in the same bracket."

The Australians exchanged looks. "Are we now?" one of them said, his tone curious, though a little smug.

Kai nodded. "Seems like it."

"Well, good luck to you, kid," one of them said with a lazy chuckle, amused by the encounter. He turned to his teammates, signaling that they were ready to move along, and the group began to walk off, leaving the tension lingering behind.

But before they could get far, Max shot up from his chair, almost knocking it over.

"Hey!" he called out, waving his arm to grab their attention.

They stopped, turning back to look at him with raised eyebrows. Even Kai frowned, unsure of what Max was about to say.

"You guys should tune into the opening ceremony!" Max said with his thick accent.

They blinked, exchanging glances again. "What?"

Max grinned, jabbing a thumb in Kai's direction. "He's going to nail the shot for the torch lighting ceremony."

Kai's head snapped toward Max. "What—"

Max only grinned wider, winking at him like he'd just done him a favor. "Trust me, it's worth watching. You'll see."

Kai could feel the pressure settling on his shoulders. Great. Just great.

Now he had an international audience waiting for him to perform some miracle shot, too.

They seemed intrigued, their smirks softening into genuine curiosity. "Yeah?" one of them said, turning to look at Kai again.

Kai forced himself not to glare at Max, who was clearly enjoying this way too much. He offered a small nod, hoping it looked confident. "Yeah."

"Well, got it," one of them said, chuckling slightly as they started to move away again. "Looking forward to it, kid."

As the group disappeared back into the crowd, Kai sank back into his chair, glaring daggers at Max.

"Really?" he muttered. "You had to do that?"

Max just shrugged, a smug grin plastered across his face. "What? It's true. You are going to nail the shot."

Zheng leaned closer, smirking. "Hey, at least now you've got their attention. If you pull it off, we're legends."

Kai sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And if I don't?"

"Then we move countries," Max said cheerfully, taking a bite of his food.

The others laughed, the earlier tension easing just a little.

As the breakfast hall continued to buzz around them, Kai let his gaze drift to the far side of the room, where the Australians were still chatting and laughing with one another.

His fingers drummed absently against the table as he thought about the shot and about the pressure that had just quadrupled.

'No choice now,' he thought, tilting his head slightly as his lips curved into a faint, determined smile.

He'd nail it. He had to.