score maniac

Chapter 12: A Natural Powder Keg

“Look at you—why can’t you control that hot temper of yours??” It was already 10 p. m. outside the police station. Yu Chenyi stood with her hands on her hips; even her face, which was always smiling, finally showed a look of exasperation. “Damn it, if I see him again, I’m gonna beat him up!” Gu Yu, whom Yu Chenyi had just bailed out of the station, wasn’t done yet; he glared angrily. “…Your temperament really is completely different from Yao’s and Yi’s. Sigh.” Yu Chenyi was at a loss for words. She knew Gu Yu had a hot temper, but for it to flare up this badly was still somewhat unexpected. At the entrance to Madison Square, David Kahn—who hadn’t recognized Gu Yu at all—was completely stunned by Gu Yu’s sudden punch. His head snapped back and slammed into the edge of the car door, leaving a huge bump. Although Gu Yu was on the slender side for a basketball player, he was, after all, a professional athlete. That single punch sent blood gushing from Kahn’s nose, left him disoriented, and nearly knocked the wind out of him on the spot. Fortunately, there were plenty of reporters nearby. After the initial shock, they saw that Gu Yu was about to keep hitting him, so they rushed forward to restrain this powder keg, preventing any more serious consequences. But how could Kahn, having been punched, just let it go? After being helped to his feet by other team staff, he immediately called the police. Hiding behind several security guards, he kept pointing at Gu Yu’s nose and ranting nonstop. Insults like “barbarian,” “lacks self-awareness,” “half-baked martial arts,” “a toad trying to eat a swan,” and “you’ll never make it onto the Timberwolves in your lifetime”—and so on—came thick and fast, interspersed with countless “fxxk”s and “sxxk”s. This style of ranting—combining reasoned arguments with profanity—was quite novel, making the scene feel like a street brawl where the losing side was actually going to run to a teacher to tattle, which seemed so out of place. What? You’re asking how Gu Yu responded…? “Come on, come on—Daddy’s gonna beat you so bad you’ll question your existence.” Hmm… his “class” was truly touching… It’s not hard to imagine what happened next. This farce was captured by countless media outlets, with some even broadcasting it live. News headlines read things like “Rookeys Fumes Over On-Court Trade, Beats Up Team Manager”—anything to make it as sensational and eye-catching as possible. Soon after, the police arrived. Gu Yu—who had transformed from a shooter into a boxer—was immediately handcuffed and taken away, while Kahn, using his connections, claimed he was injured and needed to go to the hospital for a checkup, walking off without even going to the police station. Had it not been for Yu Chenyi’s help in pulling strings at all levels, given Kahn’s status and influence—and the fact that Gu Yu had no family or connections in the U. S. —he might never have been released from custody. So… “Five hundred bucks for pulling strings, two thousand bucks for bail, fifty bucks for transportation, ten bucks for phone calls…” “Hey, hey, hey—you’re just making this up, aren’t you?!” Watching Yu Chenyi start to tally up the expenses, Gu Yu initially felt a pang of guilt, but the more he listened, the more it stung his wallet. He hurriedly protested, “What kind of international long-distance call did you make that cost ten bucks just for the call alone?!” Yu Chenyi had already finished her calculations, but seeing Gu Yu’s reaction, she cleared her throat with a “hmph” and continued counting on her fingers: “I wasn’t supposed to work overtime today, so that’s an extra hundred dollars in overtime pay, plus a hundred dollars for physical exhaustion from all the running around…” “Where on earth did you come up with this ‘physical exertion fee’?” Gu Yu was at a loss for words, half-laughing, half-crying, as he hurriedly reached out to grab Yu Chenyi’s small hand to stop her from continuing her calculations. “…You grabbed my hand—that’s a hundred dollars. You used up fifty dollars’ worth of my hand cream. I got hungry on the way and bought a sandwich and milk—that’s five dollars…” “I’ll pay you back, I’ll pay you back! I’m sorry, Xiao Yu! I really am! I’ll definitely pay you back as soon as I get paid!” Gu Yu finally begged for mercy. Yu Chenyi glanced at him, a triumphant smile curving her lips, and let out a smug “Hmph~” before finally letting it go. “…Um, have you finished that sandwich yet?” Gu Yu swallowed hard. “…Go buy your own!” Yu Chenyi really couldn’t stand this shameless guy anymore. Half an hour later. “…That’s despicable! That kind of behavior is despicable! What if the kids saw that? Does Kahn deserve to be beaten just because he spoke a few truths? The U. S. justice system must severely punish Gu Yu!” In the hotel room, the TV had just been turned on. After flipping through a few channels, it became clear that nearly every sports channel was reporting on the news following the draft. Virtually all commentators, hosts, guests, and experts strongly condemned Gu Yu’s actions; some even launched a campaign calling for a boycott of players like Gu Yu—who resort to violence at the drop of a hat—from entering the NBA! Another group of media figures, however, wasn’t concerned about this, because in their view… “Gu Yu won’t make it into the NBA anyway, so it doesn’t matter whether they boycott him or not.” “Look at that—that punch must’ve felt good, huh? Have you thought about what you’re going to do now?” Yu Chenyi didn’t know what had come over her today. Gu Yu’s behavior was clearly despicable, but deep down, she found herself secretly admiring this “no-nonsense, just do it” attitude. Of course, she couldn’t say that out loud. All she could do was drive Gu Yu to his hotel and make sure that whenever any media buzz involving him arose in the future, he’d be the first to grant her an exclusive interview. In a way, that counts as a form of recognition…! But… Glancing at the TV, where the guest on the show was still relentlessly berating Gu Yu, Yu Chenyi felt a pang of unease. Why was that? He’s clearly a hot-tempered, single-minded guy, so why do I actually feel… that he’s quite manly? “…Hahaha, this rookie’s got character. That punch was a fucking blast—I love it! I admire him! Hahahaha!” The TV switched to the T-Channel, where the famously outspoken commentator and former NBA star Charles Barkley was laughing heartily. The joy on his chubby face was unmistakable, and he said without reservation, “If you ask me, the NBA is way too soft these days. They swallow their pride for the sake of their image. Why? What gives? If something pisses me off, I just go for it. If someone insults me, I’ll hit them right back! What’s the point of players all being such nice guys? There’ve got to be a couple of hotheads like me—that’s what makes the world colorful and diverse, isn’t it??” …Exactly! Barclay’s language may be crude, but he’s onto something—and that one line really struck a chord with Yu Chenyi. Is it really interesting to have nothing but run-of-the-mill “nice guys”? With such a perfect media image and such a harmonious atmosphere on the court, where everyone acts like a gentleman—“You knock me down, and I still have to get up with a smile, shake your hand, and say, ‘You’re really impressive—you knocked me down, and I’m totally convinced’”—is that fun? That’s so boring! “Haha, Gu Yu, I never thought there’d actually be someone who supports you… Gu Yu?” Yu Chenyi burst out laughing as she watched Barkley ramble on, spittle flying from his mouth. She turned around, just about to share the moment with Gu Yu, only to see that he had already collapsed onto the bed and fallen asleep. “Snore… snore… I’ve been chosen… mmm… I’m going to conquer the world… conquer… snore…” Still fully clothed and without a blanket, Gu Yu lay sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. Did this carefree guy really have absolutely no expectations for the draft results? Did he really never expect to be picked from the start, convinced he didn’t have what it takes to compete in the NBA? “Haha… you’re lying~” Yu Chenyi chuckled softly, turned off the TV, tiptoed over to gently tuck a blanket around Gu Yu, then turned and quietly left the room. Before leaving, she placed her business card on Gu Yu’s nightstand, with a line of text written on the back. “July 8, Summer League, Las Vegas, Kings vs. Timberwolves. I’ll be there—go for it~!” Below that was a tiny stick figure punching a man in a suit right in the face. Closing the door behind her and stepping out of the hotel, Yu Chenyi took a deep breath, finding the late-night air so refreshing. “He must have stayed up all night before the draft results came out, and probably hadn’t slept well for several days in a row!” With a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, Yu Chenyi felt, for no apparent reason, as though she were witnessing the beginning of something truly great. Today, you can finally get a good night’s sleep. As for the upcoming competition… “You absolutely have to win!” With a wave of her fist in the air, Yu Chenyi’s figure vanished into the night. Two days later, Sacramento, California. At the entrance to the Kings’ team headquarters, a man with a meticulously slicked-back hairstyle that glinted in the sun got out of the car with a backpack on his back, stood beneath the Kings’ logo, and looked up. NBA… “Dad’s here…!” Gu Yu, officially reporting for duty!