Comradeship? Nonexistent

Oklahoma City Blue, an unremarkable team in the NBA Development League.

This team had never won any honors, nor had it produced any memorable players. Even its history spanned only two short years.

In 2005, the Alvis Heights Team relocated to Tulsa, Oklahoma, and renamed themselves the Tulsa 66ers. Two years ago, the Tulsa 66ers moved again, from Oklahoma's second-largest city, Tulsa, to its largest, Oklahoma City, and changed their name to the Oklahoma City Blue.

This move was undoubtedly an attempt to catch the attention of the NBA's Oklahoma City Thunder, hoping to become their Development League affiliate.

That's right—the Blue team still hadn't been claimed by any NBA parent organization. Without a big-money backer, no one knew how many more years this small Development League team could hold on.

And precisely because the Blue team wasn't affiliated with any NBA team, the players here had to stand out even more to attract NBA attention.

Everyone still here was fighting for a shot at the NBA.

The next morning, just after finishing breakfast, Link, who lived on the third floor, heard a car horn blaring from downstairs. He stuck his head out the window and saw a beat-up Chevrolet parked below.

He'd made plans with Upshaw yesterday to head to the training facility together. Upshaw showed up right on time, and from what Link remembered, Upshaw was always reliable.

Link took a deep breath. He was about to attend the first training session of his professional career! Though he had the memories of this body's previous owner, those weren't his own experiences. So he was a bit nervous about the upcoming practice.

But then, recalling everything that had happened on the court yesterday, Link relaxed a little. If he really had Grant Hill's abilities now—even late-career Grant Hill—that should be more than enough for the Development League!

Because Link remembered that during his Suns days, Grant Hill averaged around ten points per game in the NBA. A player who could score ten points in the NBA shouldn't have much trouble in the D-League.

Link clenched his fist. He had to seize this opportunity and fight for a guaranteed NBA contract this season!

※※※

"I couldn't sleep at all last night."

As soon as Link got in the car, Upshaw started complaining.

"Why?"

"Blown away by your performance. When did your shooting get so accurate? And your body... it doesn't look different from the outside, but I keep feeling like you've gotten stronger." Upshaw still found Link's display yesterday unbelievable.

After the three-point shooting, Link had tried mid-range shots and hit those just as accurately. Finally, they'd played a few rounds of one-on-one.

The result? Upshaw was pushed around by Link's savvy positioning and tough defense, barely able to move. But before, Upshaw could overpower Link with his body! In the end, Link beat Upshaw 10-2. The only basket Upshaw scored was actually Link letting up.

"Heh, I was going all out yesterday, and you were just treating the one-on-one like a warm-up, so you couldn't push me around. You know Coach Conner hasn't been too fond of me lately, so I have to stay fired up." Link scratched his head sheepishly.

"You're right. Last game, you had two turnovers right after stepping on the court, and your practice performance hasn't been great either. Coach Conner isn't a bad guy, but your recent play really has... You've got to work hard in training today, Link. I hope you can show what you did last night."

"I'll give it my all. With a training partner as good as you, how could I not improve?" Link said, holding out his fist. Upshaw smiled knowingly and tapped fists with the Chinese-American kid beside him.

It seemed Link was getting used to having this Black American friend.

Over ten minutes later, Link and Upshaw arrived at their training ground, which was also the Oklahoma City Blue's home court—the Cox Convention Center.

Though they shared the same city as the Thunder, since the Blue team had no affiliation with them, they couldn't use the Chesapeake Energy Arena for games or practice.

The Cox Convention Center wasn't as high-end as the Chesapeake Energy Arena, but it still looked sizable from the outside. According to the memories in Link's head, this arena, which could hold about 12,000 spectators, was converted from an idle, abandoned sports facility.

Though not as luxurious as an NBA team's home court, it was still impressive to Link, who had never played professional basketball before.

"Hey, Zeke, didn't sleep well last night? Those are some big dark circles."

"Zeke, here with Link?"

"Morning, Zeke. How are you feeling today?"

As they walked into the training facility, many people greeted Link and Upshaw. Link's eyes went wide seeing all the towering professional players in the gym.

These players would be top-tier in most places, but in the U.S., they scraped by on meager salaries in the Development League. That showed just how incredible the "birds and beasts" of the NBA really were.

Link nodded back to his teammates one by one. The old Link had been quiet and reserved, never saying much, so he hadn't offended anyone. Because of that, he wasn't isolated or ostracized on the team due to his skin color. Of course, Link wasn't particularly close with anyone either.

On the Blue team, it seemed only the easygoing Upshaw was willing to be Link's friend.

But not everyone on the team was so friendly. Just as Link and Upshaw were heading to the locker room, a strong white player with a black buzz cut walked out.

Just from his expression, this guy looked vicious, with none of the refined air typical of white players. Seeing Link, the burly man sneered, "Chink Lin, healed up already? Head okay? Hahaha, I didn't mean to drop you—you're just too weak."

Link knew that "chink," which sounded similar to "chicken," had nothing to do with poultry. The word the burly man used carried not only the meaning of "weakling" but also a strong racial slur. It was like calling a Black person the N-word.

"That's enough, John! Leave him alone. We're teammates, aren't we?" Upshaw pushed the white man back, helping Link out.

"Haha, fine, I won't bother him. But later on the court, I'll have to." The man named John spread his hands and walked toward the training floor.

Jon Brockman, selected 38th overall in the second round of the 2009 draft by the Trail Blazers, then traded to the Sacramento Kings. Former starting forward for the University of Washington, able to swing between the three and four positions. A nimble "polar bear" with exceptional activity in the paint, aggressive offense, and a fierce, brutal playing style. He often roared on the court, wrestled for position, and hammered the rim—far from the typical soft white player.

Last season, Brockman played 52 games for the Kings, averaging 2.8 points and 4.1 rebounds, spending the rest of his time in the D-League.

This season, he was traded to the Bucks, playing fifteen games for them with averages of 2.2 points and 2.9 rebounds. Such awkward stats led to Brockman being sent back to the D-League, where he became Link's teammate.

On a Development League team, camaraderie between teammates wasn't deep. Especially between players at the same position. Since everyone's goal was to shine and break into the NBA, teammates at the same position were more like competitors.

That's why Brockman had always looked down on Link. Only by bullying this Asian forward in practice could he keep his starting spot. And only by keeping his starting spot could he catch an NBA team's eye.

Two days ago, Link had been chasing Brockman in practice when Brockman used a dirty trick as Link leaped into the air, causing Link to fall and hit the back of his head, knocking him out.

"Don't mind him. That damn white boy always thinks he's above everyone else. Don't let him get to you—just play well in practice." Once inside the locker room, Upshaw tried to comfort Link.

These so-called "civilized people" always looked down on people of color, yet sometimes they were more brutal than the "savages."

The Americans once called the Native Americans barbarians, but look at how they treated them.

"It's fine. I don't care what that idiot says." Link waved his hand. He wasn't so immature as to pick a fight over a few words.

People like that only exist in comic books.

Upshaw looked at Link in shock once more. Link had never been one to curse before—he'd always been a refined, polite young man. How had his personality changed so drastically since leaving the hospital?

"Of course," Link said as he pulled on his jersey, speaking to Upshaw, "I'm not going to let him push me around either. You're right—I need to focus on training. And then I'll make sure that guy brings humiliation upon himself."

Link had come from 2019, and before this, he had never heard the name Jon Brockman. That meant Brockman had never made a name for himself in the NBA his entire career.

A player he'd never even heard of wanted to go up against Grant Hill? Link wasn't being arrogant—he genuinely had the ability to crush him!

How you bullied the old Link, I can't control. But messing with the current me? Not a chance!

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