Chapter 117: Trial (Part Two)

Under the direction of Monica, Lin Feng underwent a basic physical examination, which included measurements for height, weight, wingspan, standing reach, vertical jump reach, and reaction speed.

Afterward, Monica compiled the data into a report and handed it to Maca. Upon reviewing the figures, Maca glanced at them and involuntarily shook his head.

"Let’s go, Lin. We’re heading back to the training facility for the other tests," Maca said, leading Lin Feng back to the gym.

At that moment, the scrimmage had concluded, and the players were enjoying a short break, chatting and laughing.

"Lyman, that guy you’re competing against is back."

On the sidelines, two Black players sat on the floor. The one with dreadlocks spoke to the bald man beside him.

"A yellow-skinned guy? Does he actually think he can beat me? Hah, that’s hilarious..." the one called Lyman laughed dismissively. He was the player Walker mentioned was already being eyed by the Knicks; he had even participated in tonight’s practice, appearing as though he were already part of the team.

"The coaching staff must be joking," said the player with dreadlocks, whose name was Wallace. He played the small forward position and was a former college teammate of Lyman’s; they were close friends.

"Just wait and see the show. That yellow-skinned kid is going to get absolutely crushed," Lyman said with a gloating expression.

***

In the coaching area, Maca handed Lin Feng’s physical data to Fills.

"Height: 6 feet. Weight: 198 pounds. Wingspan: 6 feet 1 inch..."

Fills studied the data, his brow furrowing deeper with each line, until he finally tossed the report aside.

"Maca, put him through the three-quarter court sprint and the lane agility drill," Fills instructed.

"Okay," Maca replied, leading Lin Feng onto the court. "Lin, you heard Head Coach Fills. We’ll start with the three-quarter sprint, then the lane agility drill."

Lin Feng nodded. "No problem."

"Alright, on my signal." Maca pulled out his stopwatch, checked it, and shouted, "Go!"

Lin Feng sprinted at top speed, giving everything he had to complete the three-quarter court sprint and the lane agility drill.

"The speed is decent, and your stamina seems pretty good," Maca complimented after checking the results. While Lin Feng’s speed wasn't elite by league standards, it was well above average.

After finishing the tests, Lin Feng returned to Fills. Fills checked the scores with a blank expression.

"Lin, do you know what kind of player we need?" Fills asked.

"I think you need a player who can score," Lin Feng replied.

"Uh," Fills paused slightly. "Well, of course, but physical strength is our most basic requirement for any player. Your physical condition is simply too poor..."

Fills shook his head, prepared to pass his verdict. He felt Lin Feng’s metrics were too underwhelming—not just compared to Lyman, but even compared to the other trialists.

"Coach Fills, I hope you will let me complete the entire trial before making a decision," Lin Feng said, sensing Fills had already made up his mind.

"Old friend, you really should keep watching. Lin doesn't rely on his physicality; he is an excellent shooter," Walker interjected from the side.

"Fine. In that case, I’ll arrange a three-point shootout," Fills said, looking at Lin Feng. "Since you’re a shooter, I’ll have you go up against our team’s best shooter. If you can win, I will consider you seriously."

"Alright, no problem," Lin Feng nodded confidently.

"Jones, you take this rookie for a three-point shootout," Fills shouted to a Black player sitting on the sidelines.

"Coach Fills, forget it. Competing against someone like this is just a waste of time," Jones said, eyeing Lin Feng with disdain.

"You’d better be polite to the trialists. Besides, Lin has already beaten Smith; don’t underestimate him," Fills glared at Jones. "Just get started."

"Fine." Jones nodded reluctantly.

Because the trial was sudden, Lin Feng wasn't wearing a jersey and was still in his casual clothes.

"Coach Fills, can I participate in this duel as well?" Lyman walked over from the sidelines.

"You want to go head-to-head with your opponent?" Fills looked at Lyman with a smile.

"Exactly. Since we are competitors, we should compete on the same court to see who is better," Lyman said.

"Very well, you may join," Fills nodded.

"Thank you, Coach Fills. I will prove to you that the coaching staff made the right choice," Lyman said confidently.

Half of the court was cleared, and the staff set up the ball racks and basketballs to simulate a three-point contest.

"Hey, yellow-skinned kid, I don't care who you are, you're going to lose miserably," Lyman said, walking up to Lin Feng with an arrogant look.

Lin Feng scoffed and ignored him.

"Damn it! You dare ignore me?" Lyman glared at Lin Feng, then shifted his gaze toward Shen Mengfei standing nearby. He grinned lewdly. "Haha, your girl is nice. How about we make a bet? If you lose, you lend her to me to play with, how about that?"

"Play with your sister!" Lin Feng hadn't bothered to engage with the guy before, but this was crossing the line, and he wasn't about to show any courtesy.

"What are you saying?" Lin Feng had cursed in Chinese, so Lyman didn't understand.

"I said, I’m going to play with your sister, your mother, and all the women in your family!" Lin Feng rolled his eyes and cursed in English.

To Lin Feng's surprise, Lyman laughed out loud. "Okay, okay! As long as you can beat me, you can do whatever you want. But if you lose, she belongs to me!" Lyman stared lewdly at Shen Mengfei.

"Fine, as long as you can win!" Before Lin Feng could speak, Shen Mengfei spoke up with a cold expression.

"Oh, look at that! Yellow-skinned kid, your girl is already impatient to come with me!" Lyman laughed heartily.

Lin Feng ignored him, frowning at Shen Mengfei. "You didn't need to make such a pointless bet with him."

"You aren't going to lose anyway!" Shen Mengfei smiled sweetly.

"You trust me that much?" Lin Feng looked at her, stunned.

"Because you are 'God Feng'! Of course I trust you." Shen Mengfei pouted and teased, "Besides, if you win, don't he have a sister and a mother for you to take?"

"Forget it, I don't like big black women," Lin Feng shrugged.

The three-way three-point shootout was about to begin. The Knicks players and coaching staff gathered around the half-court, chatting and laughing.

"Hey, guys, who do you think will win?"

"Jones, obviously."

"I mean between the two trialists."

"That would be Lyman, of course. Don't tell me you expect a yellow-skinned kid to win?"

"That’s true. Our ragtag team just slaughtered their national team a few days ago."

"How about we place bets on how many of the twenty-five shots the yellow-skinned kid will make? A thousand dollars each, winner takes all. How about it?"

"Sounds good. I bet he makes eight."

"I bet seven."

"I bet nine."

"Six at most—look at him, he’s not even wearing a jersey."

"Guys, can you count me in?" Harris walked over as the Knicks players were having fun.

"Sure, of course," said the player organizing the bet.

"Alright, I bet he makes twenty-three..." Harris said with a smile.

"How many?"

"What?"

"Buddy, are you out of your mind?"

As soon as Harris spoke, the Knicks players turned to look at him as if he were an idiot.