Sports Medicine Master System

Back at the sports school, Huang Changqing had once said something to Han Zhilu.

He said training was a battle against yourself.

Your body, your willpower—they're constantly telling you to stop.

It's all too easy to let your willpower waver.

But if you give in, you'll never improve, and the training will be for nothing.

That's why you have to fight. You have to battle your own willpower. Victory means transcendence.

Han Zhilu used to think his willpower was pretty good.

He trained hard and never slacked on the assignments Huang Changqing gave him.

It was the same when he later gave up soccer to focus on his studies. Even a genius couldn't escape the tedious grind of practice problems, which was its own kind of mental conditioning.

Han Zhilu had done it all, and done it well.

But in this moment, Han Zhilu genuinely wanted to give up.

'This is insane!'

This black Trainer beside him, with his awkward Chinese and perpetually stern face, seemed to possess some kind of magic. He could always see right through you, sensing any shred of energy you had left, and then he'd push you one more time, driving you closer to the absolute limits of your body and mind.

"I can't do it! I can't take it anymore! Just kill me!"

Not far away, a teenager doing short sprints with a resistance band suddenly collapsed, screaming as he shook his head.

His cry of "I can't take it" was like a virus. In an instant, more than half of the teens on the floor collapsed.

Han Zhilu's legs were trembling. He shot a quick glance at the black Trainer. The urge to collapse screamed in his mind, and it took all his strength not to fall.

On the sidelines, Chen Yu and Nelson stood together.

A pile of boys had collapsed, but Chen Yu and Nelson acted as if they hadn't even noticed.

The Trainers had already moved in, forcibly dragging the boys to their feet and unleashing a torrent of abuse.

Though most of the boys couldn't understand the words, they knew from the expressions that they weren't being praised.

They managed to pull up a batch of them, but some still couldn't rise, their faces a mask of agony.

Only then did Nelson look over at Chen Yu, his eyes asking if they should call a halt to the training.

Chen Yu gave a slight shake of his head and walked toward Song Jun.

Song Jun was by the equipment, propped up on his side. A small dumbbell was strapped to his left foot, which he was continuously raising and lowering.

He, too, was panting like a bull, sweat pouring off him like rain.

"What? I didn't say I couldn't take it," Song Jun said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

Chen Yu smiled. "I hear they all look up to you. That's a good thing. A group always needs a leader. But if you want to be the captain, you have to act like one. These boys are your future teammates. Whether you can make it to the National Team, have a professional career, become a famous star, and make a lot of money—that depends on all of you working together."

"So, you need to lead by example. Make sure every single person completes their training plan to the letter. Otherwise, the success of one or two individuals is meaningless. In fact, this team of yours won't need to exist at all."

"All right, I have other business to attend to. I'll leave things here to you."

As Song Jun stared in stunned silence, Chen Yu finished speaking, turned, nodded at Nelson, and left the training area with him.

All the boys watched Chen Yu, then their eyes shifted to Song Jun.

No one had expected Chen Yu to react like this.

And he really just walked away.

"Brother... Brother Song, what do we do?" a dark, skinny teen doing crunches a few feet away asked in a low voice.

His name was Sun Zhiying, from Hulu City in Liaoning Province.

Born in '90, he was from the Northeast, just like Song Jun, so the two were a bit closer.

He was a year younger than Song Jun but half a head taller, standing at 201 cm. In front of Song Jun, however, he was nothing more than a loyal lackey who followed his every command.

He came from an ordinary working-class family.

Liaoning Province had a strong basketball culture and foundation.

Sun Zhiying was already head and shoulders above his peers in elementary school, and his gym teacher had recommended him for a sports school early on.

But he was too young at the time, and his family was reluctant to let him go down the student-athlete path. His grades were decent, and he was a quiet, bookish kid.

That delay cost him several crucial years.

But in '02, he'd had another chance.

At the time, Cui Wanjun, the coach of the Liaoning Province youth basketball team, came to Hulu City to scout for talent, and the coach at the junior sports school recommended Sun Zhiying.

Sun Zhiying went to the tryout.

But in the end, he was cut. He hadn't had any formal basketball training, his fundamentals were weak, and there were limited spots on the youth team.

In fact, among the same group of players Cui Wanjun had scouted, there was another kid Chen Yu had his eye on.

The kid's name was in the notebook from Gong Luming, and he was also among the recommendations sent back from the provinces.

His name was Li Xiaoxu.

Like Sun Zhiying, he was also born in 1990.

He'd started playing basketball earlier and was more technically polished. By the time Chen Yu learned about him, he had already made a name for himself on the Liaoning Province youth team. Rumor had it he was even preparing to enter the CBA that year.

Logically, Li Xiaoxu should have been a better fit, a player who met the common definition of a prodigy.

But after a careful analysis, Chen Yu concluded that Sun Zhiying was the more suitable candidate.

Li Xiaoxu had started playing earlier, so his technique was already relatively developed. Trying to adjust it now would be more difficult.

Of course, technique wasn't the main reason.

The primary factor was physical gifts.

Li Xiaoxu was 203 cm tall with a 203 cm wingspan.

Sun Zhiying, on the other hand, was a true "ape." Though he stood at 201 cm, his wingspan reached an impressive 209 cm.

And according to bone age tests, Li Xiaoxu might still grow taller, whereas Sun Zhiying was more or less at his final height.

This meant Li Xiaoxu would likely end up playing power forward. His current flexibility and agility wouldn't be as much of an advantage when facing professional-level power forwards on the court.

Sun Zhiying, however, could remain at small forward, where his flexibility and speed would be true assets.

In Chen Yu's selection criteria, technique was not a prerequisite. Physical talent was everything.

Song Jun's expression was still a ferocious scowl. Without even turning his head, he growled, "Cut the crap and get back to work."

He gritted his teeth, finished his set, then rose and walked toward the nearest boy who was collapsed on the ground, refusing to get up.

He was from the soccer group, named Bi Jinhao or something. Anyway, Song Jun always called him "Good Enough."

He loomed over Bi Jinhao, panting heavily and staring him down.

Their eyes met. Bi Jinhao was the first to look away in a panic.

Song Jun was a hard case, with the unmistakable air of a street thug.

Most importantly, he'd been in juvie. He had a vicious streak that was terrifying for his age.

Bi Jinhao, who had just turned fourteen, was young and a good kid in his daily life. He was genuinely terrified of people like Song Jun.

"I'm only going to say this once. Get up!"

Song Jun said in a low, dangerous voice.

Bi Jinhao gritted his teeth and struggled to his feet.

But before he could get up, another boy nearby yelled, "Song Jun, who do you think you are? We're doing our thing. The foreigners haven't said jack, so what's it to you? Anyway, I'm done. This is crazy. If we keep training like this, they're going to work us to death."

Song Jun whipped his head around.

"'Nothing to do with me?'"

He had understood Chen Yu's words perfectly.

'If we don't train properly, if we don't get the results he wants, then we're all disbanded on the spot. Everyone goes home.'

'Some of these guys might not care, but I do.'

'My mother's medical bills need paying. I'm not about to live and die a penniless loser. Getting picked by Chen Yu, this chance to make the National Team, become a star, make big money... this is my one shot.'

Song Jun slowly stalked forward. "I don't know if this training will kill you," he snarled, "but I'll kill you right now."

The words had barely left his mouth when he violently kicked the boy in the stomach.

On the second floor overlooking the training court, Chen Yu and Nelson stood together.

Seeing Song Jun get violent, Nelson jumped. "Chen, is this okay?" he asked urgently.

He'd read the file and heard from Hunter that Song Jun had a violent personality and a bad temper, and that he often bullied the other kids.

But to see him physically assault someone... he still felt it was inappropriate.

Chen Yu's expression was grim. He hesitated a moment before saying, "Let's see what happens."

After that one kick, Song Jun didn't strike again. Instead, he shot a vicious glare at the few others still lying on the floor and roared, "Get back to training!"

The boys exchanged panicked glances, scrambled to their feet, and resumed their drills.

The boy who'd been kicked clutched his stomach, his face contorted in a pained grimace. But in the end, he didn't say a word. He just walked over to the dumbbells and started his set.

Not far away, Han Zhilu let out a silent sigh. 'No point thinking about it,' he thought, lowering his head and getting back to work.