Chapter Twenty-Four: One More Roll!

Wu Rui managed to shake free quickly, because this was the most basic off-ball movement he had studied from the sidelines at Coach Vogel’s request. Yet, despite his performance being riddled with flaws, what truly allowed him to lose Andrew Nicholson was the explosive power in his legs.

Finding himself open, Wu Rui raised his hands and called for the ball from his teammate, D.J. Augustin, looking as if he was really going to take the shot.

“Look, Michael's actually calling for the ball!” The commentator at courtside, Wilson Petto, grew excited. “He isn’t really going to shoot, is he?”

“You know, before today, Michael Wu hadn’t taken a single shot—I thought he was nothing but a pure rebounder!” Petto wasn’t alone; even Jerry Meady couldn't help but chime in, “Honestly, I wondered if he could even shoot.”

D.J. Augustin shared their doubts. He was Wu Rui’s teammate, and they’d first taken the court together. He knew exactly what Wu Rui was capable of on offense.

So when he saw Wu Rui actively ask for the ball, Augustin hesitated, his feet stalling, and in that moment of indecision, he found himself trapped—he’d picked up his dribble.

Now, he had no choice but to pass. Glancing around at his teammates’ positions, he found himself at a loss.

Though the Wizards were out of options, their players were still fighting energetically, showing no sign of giving up. As a result, every Magic player except Wu Rui was tightly guarded by their defender. Passing rashly would almost certainly result in a turnover.

“Michael!”

With no other choice and time running short, Augustin gritted his teeth, called out to Wu Rui, and swung the ball over.

“Oh!”

As the ball flew straight toward the wide-open Wu Rui, part of the Magic crowd sat up straighter, some even leaning forward in their seats.

Though most of them saw Wu Rui as the team’s hope for the future, apart from a few impressive rebounds, he hadn’t done anything yet to boast about. They were eager to see him showcase his offensive talent.

Thud!

Catching the pass securely, Wu Rui paid no mind to the others’ expectations. Feeling the ball in his hands, his first thought was: this ball feels different from the one in practice!

Not only that, it seemed heavier than usual.

For a moment, Wu Rui felt a surge of reluctance. He glanced at Biyombo, who was holding position under the basket, and started weighing the possibility of passing the ball.

This shooting opportunity might just slip away.

“Michael, shoot!”

Just then, Biyombo, who had boxed out under the rim, spun around to face the basket and shouted, “I’ll get the rebound!”

At the same time, the rest of the Magic began collapsing toward the paint, their intentions clear—take the shot, we’ll back you up!

Feeling the warmth of his teammates’ support, Wu Rui didn’t hesitate any longer.

Meanwhile, the defender he’d shaken, Andrew Nicholson, was closing in fast. As the gap narrowed, he got a clear look at Wu Rui’s determined eyes.

Hugging the ball, raising it, bending his arm, he shot.

Wu Rui’s entire motion was smooth and textbook perfect.

“It’s in!”

Sensing the flawless arc, Wu Rui couldn't help but mutter quietly in his native tongue.

Clang!

Yet, with tens of thousands of eyes watching, his textbook shot struck the rim and bounced off.

“Oh!”

The miss drew regretful groans from the home crowd, but the Magic’s offense wasn’t done. Biyombo leapt up like a spring, snatching the offensive rebound right over Jason Smith’s head.

Instantly, Biyombo spun and handed the ball right back to Wu Rui, still in position: “Michael, try again!”

Without missing a beat, Biyombo resumed battling Jason Smith under the basket.

“Bismack Biyombo grabs the offensive rebound and immediately passes it back to Michael Wu!” the TNT commentator Petto said, puzzled. “Michael’s first career shot was a miss—usually, that rattles a rookie. Why would Bismack give him the ball again?”

“Does he really expect Michael to shoot again? That’s almost impossible!”

“Exactly. Especially for a rookie not known for scoring, missing the first shot can be a heavy blow—it makes every shot afterward that much harder to take...”

Whoosh!

Before Jerry Meady could finish his thought, Wu Rui had already gone up for another shot.

Though his first miss had shaken his confidence, even making him wonder if he should shoot at all, seeing Biyombo carve out space beneath the basket and with only the rim ahead, Wu Rui knew—he had no choice but to take the shot.

And he had to make it.

Swish!

As if answering the call in Wu Rui’s heart, the ball traced a perfect arc in the air and slipped cleanly through the net.

“Yeah!”

Wu Rui’s mid-range jumper sent the crowd into a frenzy—even more excited than he was. Many leapt up from their seats.

“Look, Michael Wu can shoot! He’s a fine shooter!”

“Not just a shooter—he’ll be Orlando’s rising star!”

The fans buzzed with excitement. It had been too long since Orlando had a player with real market appeal, and with Wu Rui’s explosive athleticism and shooting touch, they saw him as a beacon of hope.

Of course, these were still the minority, for it had been ages since the home crowd had seen such talent in their ranks.

Most of the Orlando fans received Wu Rui’s first NBA points with applause—after all, this was the Asian rookie’s first time scoring on the NBA stage.

“Michael!”

As he hustled back on defense, Biyombo caught up with Wu Rui. “Beautiful shot!”

“Hey, Bismack, don’t say that,” Wu Rui replied, finally making a basket and in high spirits. “I thought I’d be giving it right back to you again!”

“If I’d had my back to you, passing would’ve only led to a turnover!”

Hearing his young teammate’s words, Biyombo quickly corrected him. In that situation, a pass would have been the worst choice.

“Of course I wouldn’t pass,” Wu Rui laughed. “I just thought I’d miss again.”