Chapter 2: The Explosive Talent
A brand-new red Ferrari sports car drove down from the far end of the street, seemingly drawn by the cheers erupting from the open-air basketball court. The driver, compelled by some invisible force, glanced toward the sidewalk.
“So tall! Such long arms! A real prospect!”
“Screech!”
That single glance caught sight of a giant stepping out from the crowd, prompting the driver to slam on the brakes reflexively.
“Fuck, the gas!”
The car behind nearly rear-ended him, and its driver cursed furiously.
“Oh, sorry, sorry!”
There happened to be a metered parking spot nearby, so the Ferrari driver quickly pulled over and parked.
Tang Bei took three steps and emerged from the crowd just in time to see the sleek red car suddenly brake and stop by the curb. A man in his thirties with black hair and pale skin got out and walked straight toward him.
“Could this be my basketball opportunity?” Tang Bei wondered, feeling a bit uncertain.
“Hello, I’m Eric Fletcher. May I know your name?”
The “opportunity man” hurried up to Tang Bei, extending his right hand with hopeful anticipation.
He spoke quickly in English, and Tang Bei only caught the first word.
“My name is Tang Bei.”
He shook the proffered hand and replied in stiff, formal English.
Eric Fletcher repeated the transliteration of “Tang Bei” softly, then smiled warmly and said, “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Tang.”
Eric came from a basketball family and worked as an NBA agent. He was at Madison Square Garden tonight for the Knicks versus Bucks game. Out of professional habit, he never ignored a young talent like Tang Bei, so he stopped to take a closer look and inquire.
He believed firmly that opportunity favors the prepared, and luck often arrives unexpectedly—everything was already arranged by fate.
“Sir, do you have business here?”
Tang Bei’s mixed English in his tone carried a hint of hope.
Realizing Tang Bei didn’t understand English well, Eric pointed to the outdoor court and made a shooting gesture.
“Tang, can you play basketball?”
“Yes, I never lie. Everyone around knows I can play basketball very well.”
Tang Bei was delighted; the treasure chest had been right—this man was indeed connected to basketball, though what kind of opportunity remained unclear.
“Okay.”
Upon hearing “yes,” Eric immediately ushered Tang Bei into the basketball court.
After pausing the game and some negotiation, they arranged a one-on-one challenge: first to win three out of five points. Tang Bei’s opponent was a black man just over two meters tall.
“This is your reward.”
Eric pulled out his wallet and took out two twenty-dollar bills—one for the black player, the other handed to Tang Bei.
Though Tang Bei didn’t understand the words, it was clear the white man wanted him to play a one-on-one basketball game with the black man.
Since he had come to this country and couldn’t return, he didn’t mind mingling with foreigners, especially with money involved; he certainly wouldn’t refuse.
“Tang…”
Eric took the ball from the black player and motioned with a shooting gesture for Tang Bei to start the offense.
“Okay.”
Tang Bei removed his cotton jacket, folded it, and placed it with his travel bag under the hoop, then warmed up slightly before stepping onto the court.
“Kid, don’t even think about scoring.”
The black man blocked Tang Bei on the left wing low position, throwing trash talk.
But he didn’t underestimate Tang Bei, who was much taller and stronger.
He used all his strength, even elbows, pressing Tang Bei’s lower back with his left elbow and pushing against his back with his right hand.
At that moment, Eric passed the ball to Tang Bei, who caught it single-handed with his right hand, lowered his hips instinctively, and adopted a Tai Chi low horse stance.
Though it was basketball, his low stance was somewhat modified to suit the game’s needs.
The black man intensified his defense, but Tang Bei’s stable low posture kept his feet rooted firmly.
In fact, even without the low stance, the black man couldn’t push him back.
Weighing 110 kilograms, the black man was big to others but appeared small next to Tang Bei, whose physique dwarfed him.
Next, Tang Bei dribbled back and collided.
The first hit shifted the black man’s balance, forcing him to step back.
“His back-to-the-basket technique is a bit weak; probably not a pro,” Eric thought.
At once, Tang Bei dribbled again and drove forward.
To him, the physical confrontation in basketball was just a clash.
Once the opponent’s center of gravity was disturbed, he had to strike decisively like autumn winds sweeping fallen leaves, mercilessly crushing the foe.
With a loud “thud,” the black man grunted and flew backward.
“Oh!”
The crowd burst into astonished cheers.
“What?”
Eric’s eyes widened.
On the concrete court, the black man slid two meters after falling, grimacing in pain.
Tang Bei’s technique wasn’t great, and he lost control of the ball briefly, but after regaining it, he sprang upward for a two-handed dunk.
“Bang!”
The rim thundered fiercely, the hoop sinking more than a foot, nearly collapsing. Spectators ducked in surprise.
“Clap, clap, clap…”
“Big guy, one more!”
The crowd applauded enthusiastically.
Tang Bei clenched his iron-bowl-sized fists excitedly, shouting in his heart, “Basketball isn’t hard. I can run and jump—I can definitely play well.”
“Whoa!”
Eric took a deep breath, realizing he might have found a treasure.
From Tang Bei, he saw astonishing power and explosive strength.
Especially the explosiveness—it’s a rare and invaluable quality for a big man.
The most sought-after first pick in this year’s NBA draft, Shaquille O’Neal, was known for terrifying explosiveness.
Of course, he also saw Tang Bei’s poor technique, but at a young age, that was fixable through training.
When Tang Bei scored, the ball possession remained his; the second attack was his as well.
He moved again deep toward the basket, the black man gritting his teeth to defend, refusing to let him near.
But in contact, Tang Bei’s sheer strength and mass overwhelmed the defender, who stumbled backward step by step until pressed against the basket.
“Ball.”
Eric excitedly passed the ball.
“Bang!”
Tang Bei caught it with his right hand, back to the defender, then spun left, pushing the opponent away and slamming a two-handed dunk, blocking him emphatically.
“Is this guy even human?”
The black man sat down, staring at Tang Bei with fear, his will to resist gone.
“Scoring inside is too easy!”
Eric’s eyes gleamed.
Yet he knew the matchup was utterly uneven—strength, mass, height, wingspan, athleticism—all favored Tang Bei. The duel could end here.
Though the black man wasn’t that skilled, even in the NBA, a certain level of talent can crush technique.
A talented big man is an extremely rare commodity. Despite Tang Bei’s poor skills, his talent alone could earn him a place in the NBA.
“Tang, did you catch my name? Eric Fletcher. You can call me Eric. Name—Eric.”
“Do you have a place to stay? Somewhere to sleep...”
After the one-on-one ended, through difficult communication, Tang Bei finally learned Eric’s name. Eric also realized Tang Bei was homeless and led him away from the open-air court.
Tang Bei didn’t know what Eric had in mind but sensed this man was his chance, so he followed with trepidation.
The Ferrari was too small for Tang Bei to ride in, so Eric brought him to the Madison Square Garden Hotel across the street.
Eric had invested heavily—this was a five-star hotel, where a standard double room cost $525 a night without discounts.
“This feels like Liu Laolao entering the Grand View Garden,” Tang Bei muttered uneasily as they approached the luxurious hotel.
Dressed plainly, he stood out starkly in this environment; passersby glanced at him with undisguised disdain and contempt.
Riding the elevator for the first time was novel, though the space felt cramped, and he almost bumped his head entering.
On the 16th floor, Eric called a waiter to open the room, then stepped inside and turned on the lights.
Tang Bei followed, curiously surveying this room, palatial and luxurious beyond anything he’d known—like a palace.
The lighting was beautiful; the room had a phone, TV, air conditioning, refrigerator, sofa, and a lovely bed—though slightly short.
None of these were in his humble straw-thatched home.
Standing at the doorway, he hesitated, worried his dusty shoes might dirty the elegant carpet.
“Tang, come in.”
Seeing Tang Bei’s unease, Eric pulled him inside.
Judging by his manner, Eric knew this young man had probably never stayed in such a high-end hotel before, so he began explaining.
“Tang, you can use this phone to order room service and other things. Escorts too—but just kidding, you can’t call for that; I won’t pay.”
“There are drinks in the fridge. Want a Coke?”
“No, I don’t have money for that.”
“Don’t like Coke? Pepsi’s here too. Want some?”
“No.”
“Okay, maybe you don’t like it now, but you will later. Here’s the bathroom. Towels, toothbrush, and such are all for your use.”
“I know what a toilet is, but is this a latrine?”
“Oh, right, I forgot you don’t understand. Let me show you.”
Eric demonstrated how to open the fridge and get a drink, how to use the toilet and water heater, the hot and cold faucets, tissue paper, and the bathtub.
While Tang Bei took a shower, Eric called a waiter to bring some stools to extend the bed, propping it up with pillows.
After a sleepless fifteen-hour flight and wandering the streets of New York for seven or eight hours, Tang Bei was tired. After washing up, he went to bed.
Eric didn’t dare leave, fearing he might never find Tang Bei again, so he booked a double room.
Once Tang Bei lay down, Eric stepped outside and called his company’s men to find a translator overnight.
In truth, Tang Bei wasn’t asleep; he was looking at the treasure chest’s screen.
The screen hovered like a small virtual television, unobtrusive to his sight. Whenever he thought of it and said “treasure chest” in his mind, it would appear.
[Host: Tang Bei]
[Position: Center]
[Body: Height in shoes 213 cm, wingspan 230 cm, weight 136 kg, palm length 25 cm, palm width 28 cm, standing reach 2.87 m]
[Attributes: Strength 98, Stamina 90, Jump 85, Injury Resistance 90, Speed 80, Flexibility 90, Balance 90, Coordination 95, Neural Response 95, Explosiveness 95]
[Center Basic Skills: Shooting 41, Dribbling 48, Hook Shot 37, Floater 35, Layup 70, Dunk 90, Physicality 95, Footwork 90]
[Center Advanced Skills: Post-up 89, Low-post Backdown 60, Low-post Face-up 55, On-ball Defense 87, Help Defense 75, Shot Blocking 90, Stealing 66, Rebounding 80, Pick and Roll 60, Playmaking 20, Tactical Ability 40]
“Is this basketball ability quantified?”
He reviewed his stats repeatedly, gaining a clear understanding of his basketball capabilities.
If 100 was the maximum rating, his physical attributes were very good, but his fundamentals and many advanced skills were poor.
That was unsurprising, as he had never seriously trained basketball.
Higher ratings in layups and some advanced skills likely stemmed from his physical gifts and conditions.
Once his attention shifted away, the screen automatically disappeared.
He began pondering how to improve his basketball skills going forward.
“If a horse stance increases stability, then some martial arts techniques can indeed be applied in basketball.”
“In essence, both martial arts and basketball involve control and use of the body and strength, so I might try incorporating more martial arts or combat techniques into basketball.”
However, he had no clear idea which techniques to use; this would require practice and experimentation in training and matches.