At the Oklahoma City Thunder training facility, Kevin Durant was locked in. Another three-pointer.
Swish.
Sam Presti watched, nodding. "Listen, Kevin, if you keep this up, I have no doubt—you're gonna be a superstar."
Durant wiped the sweat from his forehead, barely acknowledging the compliment. He wasn't here for praise. He was here to work.
At 6'10", Durant wasn't built like LeBron. He wasn't a tank. But his wingspan, skill, and relentless work ethic? That was his edge. His shooting percentage had jumped this season—proof of the grind.
Presti passed him the ball, then grinned. "But hey, even the greats need a break. There's a game streaming live right now. You should check it out."
Durant glanced over as Presti pulled out his laptop.
"Stephen Curry. James Harden. And that Chinese center—people are calling him the next you."
Durant raised an eyebrow. The next me?
Presti chuckled. If Lin Yi knew that his nickname in scouting circles was "Asian Durant," he'd probably have some words about it.
And Stephen Curry again? That name was familiar.
Back in college, Curry and Durant were in a silent scoring war. If Curry dropped 30, Durant put up 31. They never spoke about it. But they both knew.
Durant wasn't done with college hoops. He still watched Oklahoma Sooners and Davidson games with Westbrook and Jeff Green when he had time. And every time, Curry impressed him.
But right now?
Presti suddenly leaned in, eyes locked on the screen. "Wait… did he just pull off a Shammgod?"
Durant watched, intrigued.
Presti cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone. His scouts had told him Lin Yi was good—but not like this.
This kid wasn't Durant. His frame was different. But damn… his handles? His footwork?
Presti scrolled through the latest scouting reports. Second-round projection? Are these guys blind?
.........
Meanwhile, back at Phoenix…
The game was heating up.
Wildcats vs. Sun Devils.
Arizona State was up 25-27 with five minutes left in the half. Lin Yi decided to switch it up. The defense had adjusted to his rhythm, so now? It was time to go inside.
He caught the ball in the low post, palming it easily. The moment his defender reached? Whistle.
Foul.
And-one.
Lin Yi wiped his sweat, shaking his head. NCAA free-throw rules—"1 + 1" shots unless the team hits 10 fouls. Annoying, but whatever. Free throws were free points for him and Curry.
First shot. Money.
Second shot. Tied game.
Arizona State came back down. Harden kicked it to the wing—wide-open three.
Clank.
Lin Yi snagged the rebound and pushed the tempo. Back to the low post. This time? No hesitation.
Turn.
Fake left.
Grant bit.
Lin Yi spun right. Hook shot.
Bucket.
Reggie Miller chuckled from the broadcast booth. "Well, would you look at that! Our guy's got post moves now."
Dell Curry nodded. "Soft touch. Dream Shake into a Skyhook."
............
And Lin Yi knew it. Every fake, every counter—he was learning, not just playing.
But he also knew something else.
This is easy because they don't have a real center.
If he ran into a real post-player, it wouldn't be this smooth.
.............
Meanwhile, in the stands, a tall, slim guy muttered to himself, watching Lin Yi closely.
"…He's stealing the show."
A voice next to him laughed. "Including yours, DeMar?"
DeMar DeRozan rolled his eyes. "I'm here for Harden. We might see him in the regional finals."
His friend grinned. "Man, I'm telling you, Darren Collison's the real problem. Have you seen Russell Westbrook in the NBA?"
DeRozan barely heard him. He was locked in. Harden was his competition.
But Davidson?
They were a different kind of problem.
The first half ended.
Davidson 32-Arizona State 33.
Lin Yi
14 points, 7 rebounds.
Curry
15 points, 5 assists.
Harden
20 points.
All eyes were on the second half.
Because this game
Far from over.