Chapter Six: This World Is Utterly Mad! (Asking for Recommendation Votes!)

“They have a group of young guys brimming with energy and drive. That’s an invaluable asset,” LeBron said, beaming as he answered the reporters’ questions after the team’s third consecutive victory. “I have every reason to believe that the future will belong to them.”

“Pfft!”

Sitting in front of the television, Wu Rui almost choked on his drink as he watched the post-game interview from the last match.

“The future will belong to them—why does it sound so odd coming from LeBron’s mouth?” Wu Rui wiped his lips, shaking his head with a laugh.

As a veteran NBA fan, Wu Rui knew exactly where that line came from. It was what the Stone Buddha, Tim Duncan, said to LeBron after beating him in the 2007 Finals!

He laughed, but after finishing ESPN’s NBA Today recap, Wu Rui’s mood grew complicated.

At first, he’d thought that what happened was nothing but a beautiful dream—a vivid NBA game played in his fading consciousness, a dream that should have ended when the game did.

But to Wu Rui’s surprise, this “dream” hadn’t ended.

In other words, Wu Rui wasn’t dreaming at all—he’d actually traveled through time.

What baffled him even more was that before this, he’d been living in April 2016. Now, it was October 2016.

“Most people go back in time, but me? I actually went forward!” he muttered wryly to himself, glancing at the date on his phone. “I bet even those web novel writers wouldn’t dare come up with something like this.”

In his previous life, Wu Rui had read a fair share of web novels, so he quickly accepted the reality of his time travel. He began sifting through his new life’s memories.

As expected, his name was still Wu Rui. Unlike before, though, he was just nineteen years old, a rookie picked seventeenth in the second round of this year’s draft. He even had an English name now: Michael Wu.

“Michael Wu…” He whispered the name in English, a chill running down his spine. After all, the God of Basketball was Michael Jordan, and now he dared to go by Michael himself!

Still, Wu Rui rather liked his new English name.

Once he’d gotten a sense of himself, Wu Rui didn’t stay idle. Since he’d traveled forward in time, he had no memory of anything that happened from the end of last season’s regular games to the start of this one; the memories of his new body stopped there as well.

So, he simply pulled out his phone and opened Wikipedia to start searching.

From what he could remember, the Golden State Warriors set a historic 73-9 regular-season record on the very day his idol Kobe retired. Led by Stephen Curry, that legendary team seemed destined to win the championship.

But as Wu Rui eagerly searched the news, he was left as dumbstruck as a statue.

“The Warriors… lost?” He stared in disbelief at the English article on his phone. “And they blew a 3-1 lead!”

Wu Rui sat in shock for quite a while before he finally collected himself and carefully read all the related news, taking a long time to accept the truth.

“Damn, only LeBron and Kyrie could have pulled off a win against the Warriors!” After reading through the entire playoff run, Wu Rui had to admit that the man and the team who had just beaten his own squad truly deserved that championship.

Having caught up on last season, Wu Rui turned to all the events of the offseason.

It had been an extraordinary year: Kobe, the Lakers’ superstar, retired. Soon after, Timberwolves legend Kevin Garnett and the Spurs’ greatest player, Tim Duncan, both announced their retirements.

But the offseason drama didn’t end there.

“Durant joined the Warriors!”

The moment he found that news, Wu Rui felt as though he’d been turned to stone.

He’d just finished reading about the playoffs—stunned by the Cavaliers’ victory, and sympathizing with the Thunder’s duo.

They had led the Warriors 3-1, just a step away from the Finals.

Wu Rui figured that if the Thunder kept their star pair and strengthened the roster, the championship would be within reach. Yet here was the news: Durant had joined the Warriors.

“I can’t believe it! I travel through time, and the entire NBA has gone mad…” Faced with so many events worthy of the history books, Wu Rui felt for a fleeting moment that his own time travel paled in comparison.

But that thought lasted only a moment. After closing the news and pocketing his phone, his gaze returned to his own legs.

In his previous life, he’d once had legs too, but paralysis and muscle atrophy had left them a poor shadow of what they were now. Looking at these strong, healthy legs, Wu Rui couldn’t help but stand from the bench and spin around in place over and over.

No matter how much the NBA world changed, it was still their business, not his.

For Wu Rui, the most meaningful thing was being given a second chance at life, with a body that could run and jump.

With that thought, he stopped circling and bent his knees, about to leap in his rented Orlando apartment.

Just then, his phone—still locked—lit up and rang out suddenly.

Suppressing his excitement, Wu Rui grabbed his phone, glanced at the screen, and immediately swiped to answer.

“Coach Frank! Is there something you need from me?” The caller was none other than Frank Vogel, head coach of the Orlando Magic. Wu Rui wouldn’t dare be careless.

“Michael, you know what time tomorrow’s team practice is, don’t you?” Vogel’s tone was calm. “Before that, the team wants you to come to the arena early for a new physical assessment.”

“A new physical assessment?” Wu Rui was puzzled.

He knew a bit about these tests—they were the stage for incoming rookies to showcase their physical gifts, and a mandatory step before entering the NBA. As a rookie this year, Wu Rui had already completed his assessment, so the team already had his data. Why did Coach Vogel want him to do it all again?

“Coach, could you tell me why I need to be tested again?” Since he couldn't figure it out, Wu Rui asked directly.

“That’s from the front office. I’m not too sure myself. Just focus on doing your best tomorrow.” Vogel didn’t elaborate. “Any other questions?”

“Uh…” Wu Rui couldn’t find anything odd in Vogel’s response. Scratching his head, he asked, “Um… what time is practice tomorrow?”