I'm Here to Make Money

After reading it, Tang Tian put away his phone.

Guard-forward swingmen like this were the most common type in America, but precisely because there were so many of them, the competition was fierce. Failing to make the NBA was perfectly normal.

Tang Tian could definitely guard him, but offensively, aside from three-pointers, his other skills were barely at NCAA level. It would probably be hard for him to score against Foster.

If he really wanted to play one-on-one, he would have to find rules that suited him.

The one-on-one game on the court continued, and just as Tang Tian had expected, Tank was no match for Foster at all.

Even in physical contact, where he appeared to have the advantage, he could not gain any ground against Foster.

In the end, it was 5-0. He was easily beaten, and Foster pocketed another hundred dollars.

"Anyone else?" Foster shouted at the crowd.

This time, no one dared step up.

Streetball players were free-spirited, but this one-on-one game involved money. No one would turn down more cash.

Foster shouted for a while longer. When no one came forward, he pursed his lips, spread his hands, and shook his head.

Tang Tian stepped out at that moment.

Seeing someone come forward, the court immediately erupted with whistles and cheers.

Streetball courts and college basketball were both basketball, but their goals were different, so there was little overlap between them. Although Tang Tian had been playing well in the NCAA, no one here recognized him.

Even though they did not know him, they still cheered for his courage.

"You want to play?" When Foster saw that he was Asian, a trace of contempt flashed through his eyes.

In basketball, Asians had always been the most disadvantaged group because of their physical talent. The NBA had never lacked outstanding white and black players, but Asian players were so few that one could count them on their fingers.

So Foster's reaction was entirely understandable. In fact, when he asked that question, he was somewhat disdainful of playing Tang Tian one-on-one.

"I think your offense is a little trash," Tang Tian said, not answering Foster directly.

The moment he spoke, the crowd at the sideline immediately began hooting.

Streetball valued freedom, and it also valued swagger. Never mind how strong Tang Tian was, the way he talked alone was very streetball.

Foster thought he had misheard. He smiled at Tang Tian, but when he saw that Tang Tian did not seem to be joking, his smile gradually vanished.

"I think if I guard you for five possessions, you won't make a single one," Tang Tian said calmly.

The whistles at the sideline suddenly exploded.

This was no longer swagger. It was outright showing off, and the forced kind at that!

People below began whispering to each other, trying to figure out who Tang Tian was, but nobody knew. The only information they got was that he was new here.

In the end, they all reached the same conclusion: Tang Tian was a reckless young punk who did not know his limits.

But they loved watching punks like that. The bigger he talked now, the worse Foster would wreck him later.

"Then let's do it." Foster was clearly a little angered. Without saying much more, he walked straight to the three-point line.

"Wait a second. We haven't agreed on the stakes yet," Tang Tian said.

"How do you want to play?" Foster asked patiently.

Tang Tian held up five fingers.

"Fifty dollars a game?"

Tang Tian shook his head.

"Kid, are you messing with me? If you want to play for five bucks, get lost. I don't have time for low-stakes games like that." Foster dropped his stance, instantly losing interest.

His reputation on the streetball court was what it was. There was no way he would play for five dollars.

The crowd also burst into jeers. They had not expected Tang Tian to talk so big at first, only to chicken out in the end.

"No." Tang Tian shook his head.

"Five hundred dollars," he continued.

As soon as he said it, the noisy crowd around them suddenly fell silent.

Five hundred dollars!

In streetball one-on-one games, a hundred was already an absolute high-stakes match. Even in New York, the birthplace of streetball culture, there were no games priced as high as five hundred dollars. At that price, they could practically play in a commercial game.

Commercial games came with insurance provisions. If someone could play in a commercial game, who would risk getting injured in a one-on-one match like this?

Foster hesitated as well. Five hundred dollars was no small amount to him, and he had never played for stakes that high.

"You're not scared, are you?" Seeing that Foster had stopped responding, Tang Tian asked.

He was actually afraid that he had named too high a price and scared Foster off. That would be a huge loss.

The moment the word "scared" came out, Foster's expression visibly changed.

Tang Tian had first spouted a bunch of big talk, then named this unbelievable price, and now he was asking whether Foster was scared. He was basically roasting him over the fire step by step. If he refused, it would be the same as admitting he was a coward.

For a streetball player, being called a coward was the greatest humiliation. It would be hard for him to keep playing streetball after that.

"What exactly are you here for?" Foster asked, staring at him.

"Me? I'm here to make money," Tang Tian replied.

After he said that, the whistles from the sideline grew louder, and the jeers became even more intense.

That was just too damn arrogant. If Tang Tian had been standing across from them, they definitely would have beaten him up!

"Fine. I accept." Foster said coldly.

After spending so long on streetball courts, he had never met anyone like Tang Tian.

Although he had not played professionally for some time, he had kept himself in great shape. He was even planning to try his luck in the NBA Summer League this summer. To beat him, someone would have to be an NBA-level player.

But how could an NBA-level player possibly appear in a place like this and claim to be here to make money?

Players capable of making the NBA would not care about such small money at all.

Even if his opponent was a young player from another professional league, there was no way Foster would fail to score a single basket in five possessions.

Seeing Foster agree, Tang Tian picked up the ball from the sideline, loosened up his joints a little, then tossed the ball to Foster.

"Come on." He settled into a defensive stance.

Seeing that they were really about to play, the on-site fans also focused, staring intently at the court.

They were truly curious about what gave Tang Tian the confidence to be so arrogant.

"Professor, there's a five-hundred-dollar game going on over there." On a nearby court, someone ran to the sideline and spoke to a hooded man.

"Five hundred? Who is it?" The man was somewhat surprised as well.

"One is Killer. The other guy is someone I don't know, an Asian," the person explained.

The hooded man was even more surprised. He knew Killer, a player whose ability was very close to NBA level. An Asian was challenging him? And for five hundred dollars? It was truly unheard of.

He nodded, then headed to the neighboring court with the man.

Over there, Tang Tian and Foster's game had already begun.

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