A Blowout? We Won in Seconds. What's There to Say?

Daily fundamentals and conditioning were bound to be dull and tedious.

But only those who could endure the loneliness had a shot at standing on a bigger stage.

That was the essence of competitive sports.

Even Chen, a man born with every advantage, never slacked off for a moment during his basic training.

That was the bare minimum attitude required of a professional player.

Time crawled during the monotonous training, but it still passed.

By the time they had finished the basic drills, it was already ten o'clock.

Soon, with the staff's help, the two or three dozen players there drew lots and split into groups.

Next up was a training exercise that was far more likely to fire up the players' emotions and competitive instincts.

Chen Xi looked at the slip in his hand marking him for Group D, then strolled over to the half-court on the far left side of the gym. Chen plopped down on the bench by the court.

He grabbed an unopened bottle of water and took a swig, all the while sizing up the "potential opponents" in his group.

Anthony Edwards, Amen Thompson, Jalen Williams—and Jimmy Butler, who had "acted like a big shot" that morning and shown up late.

"Jimmy, ready to get wrecked?"

After confirming who was in his group, Chen's eyes lit up again and again. As usual, he immediately threw JB a little verbal jab to crank up the intensity.

Butler didn't answer. He shot Chen a challenging, disdainful glance, then strode straight onto the court.

It was just a one-on-one drill where the first player to score won, so it didn't really matter who got the ball first.

JB went right ahead and took the court.

"Are you kidding me?!"

Just as Chen was getting ready to rush in