am-books Chapter 278: The Ultimate Piece
Chapter 278: The Ultimate Piece
The second day of the National Team basketball training camp did not start with the loud blowing of a whistle. It did not start with running or stretching. Instead, it started with a simple drawing.
Coach Dante Baldomero stood quietly at the front of the gym. Behind him was a very large, glowing digital whiteboard. The fifteen teenage players sat on the cold, hard wooden floor. Almost everyone was rubbing their arms and legs. Their muscles were extremely sore from the brutal, selfish "survival" games they had played the day before.
The feeling in the room was heavy and sad. You could clearly see a big difference between the boys. There were three boys who had won the games yesterday: Tristan, Joco Palencia, and Aekley Vicente. These three boys had slept in the beautiful, soft beds in the "Luxury Suite" upstairs. They looked totally awake, rested, and full of energy. The other twelve boys had slept on cheap, hard beds in the back room. They looked terrible. They had dark circles under their eyes. They looked like they had tried to sleep on a pile of sharp rocks.
Coach Baldomero picked up a digital pen. He turned to the large glowing board. He drew one big circle right in the middle of the basketball half-court line. Then, he drew four much smaller circles spinning around the big circle.
"This is the Solar System," Coach Baldomero said. His voice was very smooth, cold, and clear. It sounded like a scientist explaining an experiment. "Look up at the real sky. Look at the universe. The planets in the sky do not vote on where they want to fly. They do not hold hands with each other and decide to travel together. They do not have a choice. They must follow the rules of gravity. They must completely surrender to the giant power of the Sun."
He slowly turned away from the digital board and looked down at the fifteen boys sitting on the floor. The bright white lights hanging from the gym ceiling bounced off his clear glasses. Because of the glare, the boys could not see his eyes.
"Yesterday, I made you play a very hard game," Baldomero continued. "I broke your teamwork into pieces. I did that to see which of you had the hunger of a wild animal inside your heart. Today, we are going to build our new team. By the end of this morning's practice, I will pick one person. I will choose who gets to be the Sun. The rest of you fourteen boys will be the planets. And you will quickly learn your place."
Joco Palencia was sitting in the very front row. When he heard this, he sat up very straight. He quickly looked over his shoulder at Tristan. Joco's dark eyes were burning with a hot, strong confidence. Yesterday, Joco had scored the most points out of everyone. He had won first place. Because of this, Joco believed the Coach was talking about him. In his own mind, Joco was already the Sun.
Tristan sat very quietly near the back. He rested his heavy arms on top of his knees. He did not say a word. But inside his head, his mind was spinning like a dark, violent storm.
The night before, Coach Baldomero had given Tristan a secret folder called "Project: Zero." Tristan had read it. It was a plan to make him the most selfish player in the world. The folder told him to stop passing and start shooting all the time. This felt very wrong to Tristan. It went against everything he believed. His whole life, he had played basketball as a "Floor General"—a leader who passed the ball to make his friends look good.
But his special, magical System was quiet. It was waiting for something.
Suddenly, a glowing blue screen popped up right in front of Tristan's eyes. Only he could see it.
[Active Quest: THE ULTIMATE PIECE]
[Objective: You must prove that you are the absolute best. You must fight to win the 'First Option' spot on this team.]
[Reward: If you win, your skills will evolve. You will unlock a special power called 'Takeover' Mode.]
Coach Baldomero clapped his hands together once. The loud sound echoed in the gym.
"Today's drill is called 'The Throne'," the coach announced loudly.
He pointed a long finger toward the free-throw line on the basketball court.
"Here are the simple rules. One player starts with the ball. He stands in the middle. He is sitting on the throne. The other fourteen players will stand in a single line near the half-court mark. One defender will step up. You will play a one-on-one game. You are only allowed to bounce the ball three times. You only have five seconds to shoot. If the player with the ball scores a point, he gets to stay on the throne. But, if he misses his shot, or if the defender steals the ball, he is thrown out. He must go to the very back of the line, and the defender becomes the new king on the throne."
The coach stopped talking for a moment. He smiled his thin, scary smile.
"The goal of this game," Baldomero whispered, "is to become the king and never, ever leave the court."
Round 1: The Fake Kings
The drill started right away. MJ Mangon was the first player to stand on the throne. He held the bright orange basketball in his hands.
Larson Callao was the first defender in line. He stepped onto the court to guard MJ.
MJ tried to do a very fancy, fast dribble to trick Larson. He bounced the ball between his legs quickly. But Larson was too smart. He reached out his hand and slapped the ball away. The ball rolled across the floor. MJ had failed. He was out.
Larson picked up the ball. Now he was the king. The next defender stepped up. It was Aiden Robinson.
Larson tried to use his fast running speed to get past Aiden. But Aiden had very long arms and legs. Aiden's height made it too hard for Larson to see the basket. Larson threw the ball up for a layup, but the ball missed the rim completely. Larson was out.
The throne changed kings very quickly. The game was too hard. No one could score more than two times in a row. They kept losing.
And then, it was Joco Palencia's turn to take the ball.
Joco stepped onto the free-throw line. He looked completely relaxed. This was his favorite kind of game. He loved playing one-on-one.
The first defender to face Joco was Emon Jacob. Joco bounced the ball hard. He ran straight at Emon and hit him with a hard shoulder bump. The strong push knocked Emon backward, creating a big open space. Joco jumped up and shot the ball.
Swish. The ball went perfectly through the net.
The second defender was Ash Galang. Joco pretended he was going to shoot. He lifted his arms up quickly. Ash believed the trick and jumped high into the air to block the shot. While Ash was flying in the air, Joco easily ran right underneath him and scored a simple layup.
Score.
The third defender stepped up. It was Marco Gumaba, Tristan's best friend.
"Come on, little shooter," Joco said, making fun of Marco. "Let's see if you can stop me."
Marco bent his knees and got very low to the ground. He was trying his best to play good defense. Joco bounced the ball slowly, hesitating to mess up Marco's timing. Then, Joco jumped far backward. This move is called a step-back. Marco jumped forward with his hand up, trying his best to block it. But Joco jumped too high. The ball flew over Marco's hand.
Swish.
"That is three wins in a row," Coach Baldomero said quietly. He wrote a note on his digital tablet. He did not even look up from his screen.
Joco was on fire. He stayed on the court for five straight turns. He beat five different boys. Finally, it was Gab Lagman's turn to defend. Gab was huge and very strong. When Joco tried to shoot a layup, Gab swung his giant arm and smacked the basketball entirely out of the air. The ball flew into the empty seats.
"Get out of my house," Gab grunted loudly.
Joco had lost, but he did not care. He smiled a proud, arrogant smile. He walked slowly to the back of the line of boys. As he walked past Tristan, Joco bumped his shoulder.
"I won five times, Herrera," Joco said proudly. "Let us see if you can beat that."
It was finally Tristan's turn.
He walked slowly to the painted free-throw line in the middle of the court. The referee tossed him the basketball. Tristan caught it with both hands. The heavy orange ball felt different today. It did not feel like a toy. It felt heavy. It felt like it was full of electricity.
Tristan turned around and looked at the long line of boys waiting to play defense against him.
From the corner of his eye, Tristan saw Coach Baldomero watching him closely. The coach's dark eyes were sending a silent message. Show me the monster, the coach's eyes seemed to say. Show me that you are the best.
Defender 1: Larson Callao
Larson was known for his speed. He ran up very close to Tristan. Larson wanted to use his fast feet to steal the ball.
Tristan did not try to do a fancy trick. He did not dance with the ball. He just exploded like a rocket. His first step forward was so fast and violent that Larson did not even see him move. Larson swung his hand to steal the ball, but he only hit empty air. Tristan took one hard dribble. Then a second hard dribble. He stopped perfectly near the basket, jumped up, and shot.
Swish.
It was a clean, perfect, and completely cruel move.
Defender 2: Carlo Bedia
Carlo was very tall, measuring 6'8". Because he was so big, Carlo decided to give Tristan some space. Carlo took two steps backward. He thought Tristan was too short to shoot over his long arms.
Tristan remembered his special System upgrade from the day before.
[Three-Point Shot Level: 90]
Tristan did not try to run past the tall boy. He did not wait. The very second Carlo backed away, Tristan jumped straight up into the air. His arms moved like lightning. He released the ball into the air before Carlo even realized what was happening.
Bang. The ball went straight through the hoop from very far away.
"You are standing too low," Tristan whispered coldly to Carlo as the tall boy walked away defeated.
Defender 3: Gab Lagman
The entire gym suddenly went completely quiet. Every boy in the room knew the history. Gab was Tristan's best friend. They were like brothers.
Gab walked onto the court. He was not smiling. He was not going to be nice. He was known as "The Wall" because nobody could score against him.
"Do not bring your weak shots over here, Tristan," Gab warned loudly. Gab slapped both of his heavy hands hard against the wooden floor to show he was ready.
Tristan looked deeply at his best friend. On a normal day, Tristan would try to find Gab's weakness so he could pass the ball to someone else. But today was different. Today, Tristan was looking for a weakness so he could score the points himself.
Gab is very heavy, Tristan thought in his mind. When he decides to block a shot, he uses all his weight. He cannot stop easily.
Tristan ran hard toward the left side. Gab slid his heavy feet perfectly, moving his big body to block the path.
But then, Tristan slammed on his invisible brakes.
[Skill Activated: Ankle Breaker - Bronze Level]
Because Gab was so heavy, his body could not stop quickly. Gab kept sliding forward just a little bit. That was all Tristan needed.
Tristan did not jump backward. Instead, he spun his body around in a fast, complete circle, like a spinning top. He spun right past Gab and ran into the area right under the basket.
Gab recovered fast and jumped wildly into the air, reaching his long arm out to smash the ball.
[Skill Activated: Acrobat - Silver Level]
[Vertical Jump Level: 85]
Tristan jumped into the air too. While flying, he pulled the ball tight against his stomach so Gab could not hit it. He floated past Gab's giant hand. Then, he stretched his arm out and gently rolled the ball off his fingertips against the glass backboard.
The ball kissed the glass and dropped smoothly through the net.
"Point for Herrera," Coach Baldomero yelled out loud.
Gab stood under the hoop and stared at his best friend. Gab nodded his head slowly. He was shocked, but he also respected the amazing move. "That was a really nice move," Gab said quietly.
Defender 4: Josh Manio
Josh was the giant. He was 7'0" tall. He stood like a huge mountain blocking the light.
"Welcome to my block party," Josh said with a giant grin. He was sure he was going to win.
Tristan stood far away from the giant. He bounced the ball very low to the ground. Thud. Thud.
Tristan did not try to run around the giant. He ran straight forward. He ran his body right into the giant's huge chest.
[Strength Level: 85]
The sound of their bodies hitting each other was loud. Josh expected the smaller boy to bounce backward and fall down. But Tristan's new System strength allowed him to absorb the heavy crash. Tristan did not fall. He pushed back, creating a tiny bit of space.
Josh kept his giant hands high up in the air.
Tristan used his perfect footwork. He spun around on his left foot, quickly faked a shot to make Josh jump into the air, and then stepped under the flying giant. He gently tossed the ball into the hoop for an easy basket.
The drill continued.
The fifth defender lost.
The sixth defender lost.
The seventh defender lost.
Tristan was not smiling. He was not happy. He was not cheering for himself. He had entered a dark, cold state of mind. He felt like a robot programmed only to score points. The glowing blue System screen kept flashing warnings in the corner of his eyes, but he ignored them completely. He was in a deep trance.
Cross the ball over. Hesitate. Run fast. Score.
Fake a step. Fake again. Jump high. Score.
Tristan beat Joco Palencia, the eighth defender, by shooting a super long three-pointer right in Joco's angry face.
Tristan beat Aekley Vicente, the ninth defender, by throwing a high, looping shot that almost touched the lights on the ceiling before falling perfectly into the net.
"Stop the drill," Coach Baldomero suddenly ordered.
Tristan froze instantly. He stood in the middle of the court. He was breathing incredibly fast. Large drops of salty sweat dripped from his chin and splashed onto the shiny floor.
He had defended his throne against ten different boys in a row. He had won ten times.
Tristan slowly looked around the room. All the other players were staring at him. They were looking at him in a completely different way now. Their eyes were wide open. He could see that they were a little bit afraid of him. But they also thought he was amazing.
"That is ten wins," Coach Baldomero said. His voice sounded almost happy. "Go get a drink of water. Take a break."
At exactly 10:30 AM, the final test of the morning started. It was time for a real basketball game. Five players against five players, running up and down the full court.
Coach Baldomero called out the teams.
Team A:
Point Guard: Tristan Herrera
Shooting Guard: Marco Gumaba
Small Forward: Ash Galang
Power Forward: Aekley Vicente
Center: Jonas Singson
Team B:
Point Guard: Joco Palencia
Shooting Guard: MJ Mangon
Small Forward: Carlo Bedia
Power Forward: LA Morales
Center: Josh Manio
"Listen to me carefully," Coach Baldomero announced loudly so everyone could hear. "The normal rules of basketball have changed today. Team A, you are going to run a new plan. It is called the 'Zero' offense. Here is the rule: Every single time your team gets the ball, Tristan Herrera must be the one holding it. If Tristan decides to shoot the ball, that is a good thing. If Tristan decides to pass the ball, the person who catches it must shoot immediately within two seconds. There will be no passing the ball around just to be nice. Tristan starts everything. Tristan decides everything."
Joco Palencia laughed a loud, angry laugh. "So we are just supposed to stand here and watch him play by himself? That is not real basketball, Coach."
"If you want to prove me wrong, Palencia, then win the game," Baldomero answered in a freezing cold voice. "If you can stop him, you prove I made a mistake."
The referee blew the whistle. The game started.
Joco ran up to Tristan right away. He was angry. He wanted to steal the ball. "I am going to lock you down, 'Zero'," Joco whispered aggressively.
Tristan turned his back to protect the ball. He did not feel angry. He felt completely calm. His heart was beating slowly.
He dribbled the ball across the middle line.
His friend Marco ran around a tall teammate and ended up standing in the corner of the court. Marco was completely open. No one was guarding him.
The old Tristan—the nice team captain—would have passed the ball to Marco right away for an easy shot.
But the new Tristan looked up. He saw the giant, Josh Manio, standing lazily near the basket. The giant was out of position.
Tristan raised his hand and waved at Marco. "Clear out! Run away!" Tristan yelled loudly.
Marco looked totally confused and hurt, but he did what he was told. He ran to the other side of the court.
Now it was just Tristan and Joco standing at the top of the court.
Tristan bounced the ball quickly. He did a very famous, tricky dribble move. He made the ball look like it disappeared, and then suddenly caught it with his other hand. Joco reached out to grab it, but he was tricked.
That was a huge mistake.
Tristan ran past Joco incredibly fast. Josh Manio, the giant, finally stepped forward to try and block Tristan.
Tristan did not try to throw a soft, gentle shot. He took two huge, powerful steps. One. Two. He exploded upward toward the ceiling.
[Skill Unlocked: Giant Slayer - Bronze Level -> ACTIVATED]
[Vertical Jump Level: 85]
Tristan flew through the air and met the giant at the metal rim. Tristan was not tall enough to dunk the ball, but his new powers let him hang in the air for a very long time. Josh's heavy body smashed into Tristan in mid-air. Tristan absorbed the painful hit. While he was falling backward to the floor, he reached his arm out as high as he could and threw the ball against the glass.
Whistle. The referee called a foul on the giant.
The ball fell right through the net.
"Count the basket!" the assistant coach yelled happily.
A few minutes later, Tristan had the ball again.
This time, Joco and MJ Mangon ran up and trapped Tristan in a corner. Two defenders were pushing him.
Tristan kept bouncing the ball. He stepped backward, keeping his eyes looking up. He did not panic.
He saw Aekley Vicente standing open near the basket.
Tristan used all his power to throw the ball incredibly fast.
[Pass Accuracy Level: 91]
The ball flew like a bullet perfectly into Aekley's hands. Aekley caught it and shot it immediately.
Boom. Two points.
"See? That was a pass!" Joco yelled at the referee. "He passed it!"
"That was not a normal pass," Coach Baldomero corrected him from the side of the court. "Tristan made you two run to him. He created the gravity. He made the smart decision to let Aekley shoot."
The game went on. The score was tied: 20 to 20. The first team to score the next point would win the whole game.
Tristan was holding the ball. He was completely exhausted. His lungs burned like they were on fire. His arms felt like heavy lead. But his mind was as clear as perfectly clean glass. Out of his team's 20 points, Tristan had scored 14 of them by himself.
He stood near the middle line. Joco was standing far back, daring Tristan to try and shoot a long shot.
Tristan looked at his friend Marco. Marco nodded his head. Marco ran away to pull his defender to the other side, leaving the right side empty for Tristan.
Tristan looked at his best friend Gab, who was playing for the other team. Gab was standing right under the basket, ready to block any shot.
Tristan attacked.
He dribbled hard to the right. Joco slid over and blocked his path.
Tristan spun around quickly to the left. Joco was fast and stayed right in front of him.
Tristan took a big step backward. Joco thought Tristan was going to shoot, so Joco jumped as high as he could into the air.
It was a fake trick.
Tristan waited for Joco to jump, and then Tristan leaned his own body forward. He intentionally crashed into Joco's flying body to force the referee to call a foul. As they crashed, Tristan wildly threw the ball toward the basket with one hand. It was a desperate prayer.
Clang. The ball hit the hard metal rim and bounced high into the air.
Every big player on the court—Josh, Jonas, and Gab—jumped up to grab the bouncing ball.
But suddenly, a blurry white shape flew in from the free-throw line.
It was Tristan.
Even though he was so tired, he had followed his own missed shot. He used his amazing jumping power to fly higher than the big men. While the ball was still falling down near the rim, Tristan reached out his fingers and gently tapped it.
The ball fell perfectly through the net.
Swish.
The game was over. Tristan had won.
Tristan landed hard on his feet. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees on the wooden floor.
The entire gym was completely, totally silent.
At exactly 11:00 AM, Coach Baldomero blew his silver whistle one last time.
"Everyone line up. Come to the center circle," the coach ordered.
The fifteen boys walked slowly to the middle. They were dripping wet with sweat. They were all breathing incredibly heavily, panting like tired dogs.
Tristan stood right in the very center of the group. His chest moved up and down as he gasped for air.
Coach Baldomero slowly walked around the circle of boys. He stopped walking when he was standing directly in front of Tristan. The coach reached out his hand and placed it heavily on Tristan's tired shoulder.
"In the year 2004, the Philippine basketball team played with a lot of love and heart," Baldomero said loudly to the group. "And we lost."
"In the year 2013, our team played with players who were good enough to be in the NBA," Baldomero continued. "And we lost again."
The coach paused. "Why do we always lose?"
He looked closely at the giant centers, the fast guards, and the great shooters standing around him.
"We lose because when the clock is almost at zero, everyone looks around at their friends. Everyone waits for someone else to be the brave hero. Everyone is too nice. Everyone is too polite to take the winning shot."
Baldomero squeezed Tristan's shoulder very hard. His fingers dug into the muscle.
"That polite disease ends today," the coach declared.
He turned his head to look at all the other players.
"Listen to my words very clearly. There is no democracy here. We do not vote on who gets to score. We do not share the ball equally."
He pointed a long, straight finger directly at Tristan's face.
"This boy right here is your First Option. He is the Sun."
A wave of shock moved through the circle of teenagers. Normally, coaches told players to share and play the right way. But Coach Baldomero was commanding them to play only for one person.
"From now on, every offensive play starts with Tristan," Baldomero yelled. His voice echoed off the high ceiling. "If the other team traps him, he is allowed to pass. If he has an open space, he must shoot. And if he misses his shot, it is your job to grab the ball and give it right back to him."
He looked sharply at Carlo Bedia. "You are just a scavenger now. You eat the leftover points that Tristan does not want."
He looked at Joco Palencia. "You are just the backup engine. If Tristan needs to rest, you can play. But if Tristan is on the court, you just stand out of his way."
He looked at Marco. "You are just his safety net. Wait in the corner and be ready."
Finally, Coach Baldomero turned his cold eyes back to Tristan.
"Starting right now, the future of the entire Philippine team rests completely on your shoulders. If we lose the World Cup, it will not be the team's fault. It will be 100% Tristan's fault. He is wearing the heavy crown. He carries the heavy cross. Do you accept this terrifying job, Herrera?"
Tristan slowly looked up. He looked around the circle. He saw Joco Palencia biting his lip in pure anger. He saw his best friend Marco looking incredibly worried. He saw the giant players looking at him with doubt.
Tristan felt the incredible weight of the responsibility. It felt like a mountain was crushing his chest.
But then, he felt his secret System hum with warm power.
[New Title Acquired: THE ACE]
[Effect of Title: Your control over the ball is increased to 35%. The team's reliance on you has reached the maximum level.]
Tristan forced his tired legs to stand up completely straight. He looked Coach Baldomero directly in his dark eyes.
"I accept," Tristan said.
At 12:30 PM, the practice was over. The players were in the locker room changing their clothes.
The silence inside the locker room was so thick it felt hard to breathe. No one was talking. No one was making jokes.
Bang!
Joco Palencia slammed the metal door of his locker shut as hard as he could. The loud noise made everyone jump. He did not say a single word. He just grabbed his heavy gym bag, put it on his shoulder, and angrily stomped out of the room. His two friends, MJ and Emon, quickly followed him out.
Tristan sat alone on a wooden bench. He was slowly untying the laces of his basketball shoes. His hands were shaking a little bit. He was not shaking because he was scared. He was shaking because his body was still full of crazy adrenaline from playing so hard.
Marco walked over and sat down right next to him.
"So," Marco said. He tried to smile and make his voice sound light and happy. "You are the big, bright Sun now, huh? Does that mean I am the planet Mercury? Or maybe I am Pluto?"
"You are just Marco," Tristan answered softly. "Nothing changes between you and me."
"Everything is going to change, Captain," a deep voice said.
It was Gab. Gab was standing by his own locker. His voice did not sound angry, but it sounded very heavy and sad. Gab walked slowly across the room until his giant shadow was covering Tristan.
"Coach Baldomero just painted a giant bullseye on your back," Gab explained seriously. "And it is not just the other teams who will want to hunt you. Our own teammates will want to hunt you too."
Gab crossed his huge arms. "Joco Palencia is not going to just hand you the ball nicely because the coach told him to. The big guys are not going to fight for rebounds for you if you start missing your shots. If you want this job, Tristan, you have to be absolutely perfect every single time."
"I know," Tristan whispered, looking down at his shoes.
"Can you actually handle that kind of pressure?" Gab asked his best friend. "It gets very, very lonely when you are sitting alone at the top."
Tristan looked at the invisible blue screen floating in the air.
The special magic link he had with his friends, called [Bond of the Brotherhood], was still there. But the bright light was flickering weakly, like a dying lightbulb. The System was warning him. If you try to be the greatest player in the world, you usually have to lose your best friends.
"I have to handle the pressure," Tristan said firmly. He squeezed his shaking hand into a tight fist. "We are not playing to win a little plastic trophy anymore, Gab. We are playing to change the entire history of basketball in the Philippines. And maybe Coach Baldomero is right. Being a nice, polite boy does not win the World Cup."
Marco let out a long, sad sigh. He reached over and gently patted Tristan on the back.
"Well, if you are the giant Sun now," Marco said with a small, sad smile, "just make sure you do not burn us to ashes, okay?"
Tristan forced himself to smile back, but the happiness did not reach his eyes.
"I won't burn you," Tristan promised.
Tristan finished packing his wet clothes into his bag. He stood up, said goodbye, and walked out of the quiet locker room.
When he stepped out into the hallway, Coach Baldomero was standing there. The coach was leaning against the painted wall, slowly drinking a small cup of dark, bitter coffee.
"That was a very good practice session, Ace," the coach said.
"Thank you, Coach," Tristan replied quietly.
"All the other boys in that room hate you right now," Baldomero pointed out like it was a casual fact about the weather.
"I know they do," Tristan said.
"That is very good," Baldomero smirked, taking a sip of coffee. "Hate is a very powerful type of fuel. It will make them play harder. Now, go upstairs and rest your body. Tomorrow morning, we are going to teach the team the new plays. The new system is called 'Orbit'. I think you can easily guess who the whole system spins around."
Tristan nodded his head once. He pushed the heavy glass doors open and walked out of the Titan Performance Center. The bright, hot afternoon sun of Manila hit his face instantly. The air was thick and humid.
As he walked down the noisy street, Tristan realized he felt very different inside.
He felt physically stronger than he had ever felt before. But he also felt completely cold inside his chest.
The happy, simple boy who just wanted to play a fun game of basketball with his best friends from Dasmariñas was totally gone. He had vanished.
The Ultimate Piece had finally arrived. And he was ready for war.