[Badge Unlocked: Tough Shot Maker (Bronze)] unlocked.
You now have an NBA-level shooting guard's skill for tough shots. Step-backs, fadeaways, leaners—you name it. You'll get a bonus to your shooting percentage on these kinds of shots.
[T/N: The bronze badge has a 2K rating of 65-75, so with the badge he can build on his skill and reach the limit of 75.]
As soon as Lin Yi unlocked the badge, a rush of knowledge and instinct flooded his mind. It was like someone had plugged NBA-level shooting mechanics straight into his brain.
But as for how much of a boost this actually gave him? No clue.
Knowing how this system works, he'd probably have to test it out himself.
........
"Lin! You and Steph made the paper!"
After racking up seven straight wins with the Wildcats, Lin Yi stayed locked in, grinding away at training. As his go-to practice partner, Anthony Beasley who was formerly hostile for swiping his position rushed over, waving a newspaper.
Steph Curry, who'd been in the middle of his drills, jogged over, curiosity written all over his baby face.
"The article talks about how, ever since Lin Yi joined the team, he and Steph have been the driving force behind the Davidson Wildcats' success. Their dual-core offense has turned this once-overlooked school into a sports car. People are even calling them the—"
Lin Yi's eyes skimmed the article… and nearly choked.
"The Shooting Stars"?
He barely stopped himself from spitting out last night's dinner.
Author: Javier Stanford.
"Yo, this is dope!" Steph grinned. It wasn't his first time in the papers, but the excitement never really faded.
"Cool pic, too. But wait…" Beasley frowned, flipping back to the front page. "Didn't you miss that shot?"
Lin Yi coughed. "Doesn't matter. Looking cool is what counts. My idol, Kobe Bryant, once said, 'Form over everything!'"
Beasley squinted. "Pretty sure Kobe never said that."
Lin Yi shrugged. No way was he gonna explain the wonders of Chinese basketball forums to Beasley. Those places had more fake quotes than real ones.
"Their offense flows like water—Steph's deadly accuracy and passing combined with Lin's elite pick-and-roll shooting, smooth finishing, and rare dribble moves for a big man make them a serious threat for March Madness."
Lin Yi made a mental note to buy Javier a meal. His hype train was gaining steam, and ESPN's Draft Network had already started paying attention.
No matter how good you are, you need exposure. Michael Beasley didn't get projected as a No. 1 pick by skill alone—the media blew him up. Same with Thabeet this year. The guy was getting insane coverage…
......
Next up: Stanford University.
Smart school. Historically weak basketball program. Another team the Wildcats could probably run through.
Coach McKillop's mood had been noticeably better after the win streak. Hell, his hair might even be getting darker.
"Wait… Lin, did you grow again?" Assistant coach Jennings suddenly blurted out.
Lin Yi was already listed at 215 cm, but it seemed like his growth spurt wasn't done yet.
"Yeah… might need to run another physical test on him," Jennings muttered.
Lin Yi and Steph were getting their shots up pre-game when—
"Hey, is that him?"
A young man with a camera stood at the edge of the court, squinting at his phone for comparison.
"Dude, are you serious?" A girl in a hat smacked his shoulder. "How many 7-foot Chinese guys do you think are on this court?"
"Xiaolei, are we really supposed to interview him like this?" the guy, Qi Jun, asked hesitantly.
Wu Xiaolei sighed. She was so asking the editor for a better partner after this. Back in China, this dude acted like a basketball expert, but now he couldn't even ask for directions in English. And now this dumb question?
"Yo, Lin," Beasley nudged him. "Check it out. Cute girl at 2 o'clock."
Lin was mid-pass to Steph when Beasley's words distracted him. He turned to look.
"Hello! Are you Lin Yi? We're reporters from Sports Weekly. Mind if we ask you a few questions during warm-ups?"
Her voice was nice.
Smooth.
Professional.
Chinese media?
Damn, word travels fast.
The internet wasn't as crazy as it would be in the future, but still—he was just playing NCAA ball. He didn't think he'd already be getting attention back home.
What Lin Yi didn't realize was that, because the NBA was heavily invested in the Chinese market, Chinese basketball reporters had pretty solid connections in the U.S. They got access to games, players, and behind-the-scenes info way easier than other foreign media.
"Yeah, I'm Lin Yi. Sure, let's do it." He responded in fluent Mandarin.
Wu Xiaolei nodded and gestured for him to come to the sidelines—
But before anything else could happen, Qi Jun fumbled his phone.
The thing hit the ground, rolled a few times, and stopped right in front of Lin Yi.
Wu Xiaolei internally screamed.
Bro, seriously? This is who the editor sent?
But then—she froze.
Lin Yi bent down, casually scooping up the phone with smooth, effortless flexibility.
"You're… surprisingly flexible," she muttered, wide-eyed. "Most big men don't bend like that."
Lin Yi just smiled. "Really?"
Wu Xiaolei was 178 cm tall—not short by any means, but next to Lin Yi, she had to look up. She held out the recorder for him, but he saw she was struggling and just took it from her.
Qi Jun, meanwhile, was snapping photos. Lin Yi looked even better in person than in pictures. A little leaner than Yi Jianlian back in the day, but still… Can this frame really hold up in the NCAA?
After a few warm-up questions, Wu Xiaolei got to the good stuff.
"So, Lin—how would you describe your playing style?"
Lin Yi scratched his head.
"Hmm… I like to break defenders down off the dribble."
There was a pause.
Wu Xiaolei blinked.
"…Dribble? Breakdowns?"
She looked at him like he'd just told her he was an astronaut.