Michael Jordan, Never Yield!

"MVP! MVP! MVP!"

The voices merged into a roaring torrent, washing over his soul.

He felt himself shrinking, shrinking without end, until he became an ant on the court.

He raised his head and could only look up at the giant standing atop the highest podium.

Li Fei's shadow fell over him like an enormous dark cloud, engulfing his entire world and leaving him unable to breathe.

He saw Li Fei's gaze pass through the celebrating crowd and settle on him. That gaze—

Calm, profound, devoid of mockery or pity, as though a god were looking down upon a mortal.

That look terrified him more than any humiliation ever could.

"No—!"

Jordan jolted upright in bed, his entire body drenched in cold sweat.

He gulped down air, his heart pounding wildly. Outside the window, Chicago's nightscape still glittered brilliantly, but in his eyes, nothing remained except the endless shadow from his dream.

He glanced at the clock by his bed. It was three-thirty in the morning.

He could no longer sleep.

Failure was acceptable, but never failure born of pity! He would never accept being treated as the backdrop to a new king's ascension, becoming nothing more than a footnote to an era!

Jordan rolled out of bed. Without turning on the lights, he silently changed into his training gear in the darkness.

He grabbed his car keys, disturbed no one, and headed straight for the underground garage.

Half an hour later, the lights in the Chicago Bulls' United Center practice facility suddenly blazed on.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The dull thuds of a basketball striking the floor echoed through the empty gym, lonely and relentless.

Jordan repeated his shooting motion over and over, and sweat soon soaked through his clothes once more.

He wanted to sweat out every trace of