NBA: GIANT KILLING

Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Eye of The Hurricane



The moment Oliver stepped onto the court, everything changed.

Aina University's head coach saw it immediately—this wasn't just another promising freshman. He was a phenomenon. A player who could turn a game upside down with nothing but raw talent and an unshakable will to win.

From that day forward, Aina University's entire strategy revolved around him. Every play, every movement, every decision on the court was designed to maximize his presence.

Most crucially, the coach crafted a two-man game between Oliver and Gorin, the team's power forward. To strengthen their connection, Gorin stayed after practice, running extra drills with Oliver, refining their chemistry through sheer repetition.

Gorin, a powerful player in his own right, had always relied on brute force—barreling into the paint, muscling past defenders, scoring through sheer physicality. But under Oliver's guidance, he evolved. The coach instructed him to refine his mid-range shooting, giving him more versatility. Now, when Oliver orchestrated a pick-and-roll, Gorin wasn't just a battering ram—he was a threat from every angle.

But more than anything, Gorin was in awe of Oliver.

The kid's routine was inhuman.

100 pull-ups a day.

10 kilometers of running.

100 squats.

100 reps of everything.

And when Gorin trained to the point his legs gave out, when he had to drag Oliver back to the dorms after an exhausting session, he would wake up the next morning to find Oliver already bouncing onto the court, fresh as ever.

It was madness.

But it was also inspiring.

Gorin, like everyone else, had once thought Oliver's dream of winning an NCAA championship was just that—a dream. Now? He was starting to believe.

And so was the rest of the world.

______________________________

The Atlantic Athletic Metropolitan League had been a calm, steady sea.

Oliver was a meteor crashing into it, sending waves surging across the competition.

At first, no one took Aina University seriously. It was a minor program, a blip on the radar. The only thing that stood out was their new starting point guard—an Asian kid standing just 175 cm tall.

The skeptics laughed.

A short guard? What could he possibly do? Get blocked?

Then, one by one, they fell before him.

With every game, Oliver made them eat their words. He dismantled defenses, humiliated players who underestimated him, made even seasoned coaches question their own tactics.

His favorite thing? Silencing the doubters.

At the beginning of the season, opponents would strut onto the court during warm-ups, throwing down flashy dunks, showing off their athleticism.

Oliver would stand at the sidelines, watching quietly.

Then, when the game began, he would dunk on them harder. Posterizing defenders. Sending the message loud and clear:

"Are you still underestimating me? Let me show you what dominance really looks like."

But beyond his jaw-dropping athleticism, his greatest weapon was his mind.

His playmaking was unparalleled. His court vision? Terrifying.

Opposing teams tried to trap him, but before their defenders could react, he was already gone—slipping past them with ghostly speed, threading passes with pinpoint accuracy.

If they gave him space, he would punish them with deep threes. If they closed in, he would cut through them like a blade through paper.

By the time the regular season ended, Aina University stood undefeated: 20 wins, 0 losses.

A team that had once been overlooked was now the storm on the horizon.

Even the opposing fans had surrendered.

"Go, Oliver! Take over March Madness!"

"You're the best!"

"Oliver, I love you!!!"

From the Manhattan University stands, a group of cheerleaders in crimson-and-white uniforms screamed his name.

And among them, Jenna.

The captain of the Manhattan University cheer squad was hard to miss.

Jenna stood tall, her jet-black hair framing a face that could launch a thousand daydreams. Her eyes were sharp, clear, and bright. Delicate arched brows gave her an air of quiet confidence, while long lashes fluttered with barely contained excitement.

Her skin was flawless, a shade of porcelain tinged with the softest blush. And then there were her legs—long, elegant, impossible to ignore.

She sat hugging a basketball, her gaze locked onto Oliver.

The other cheerleaders caught on immediately.

"Captain, are you even blinking?"

"Hahaha, she's staring so hard she's about to drool!"

"Unbelievable. The ice queen actually has a crush!"

Without taking her eyes off the court, Jenna coolly replied,

"Don't act like I don't know how much you two secretly praise Oliver behind my back."

Her teammates giggled.

"You're bold, but if you really like him, why not go up there and make a move?"

"Yeah! Just run up and kiss him senseless!"

"With your body? There's no way he could resist!"

Jenna smirked.

Then she stood up, tied her hair into a sleek ponytail, and confidently walked toward Oliver.

An Unexpected Encounter

The moment Jenna stepped onto the court, the crowd hushed.

Oliver, standing at center court, watched her approach.

His first thoughts?

'Shes pretty, but why is she walking towards me? '

'Maybe she's just walking by:

Jenna stopped in front of him, tilting her head slightly.

"Hi," she said, voice smooth as silk. "I really like you. Can I get your autograph?"

Oliver blinked. Then grinned.

"Sure."

Then Jenna did something that sent a shockwave through the entire gymnasium.

She lifted her shirt—just enough to reveal the black band of her sports bra.

"Sign it right here."

Oliver froze.

The entire arena erupted.

And before he could react—before he could even process what was happening—Jenna leaned in, pressing the softest of kisses against his cheek.

Gasps. Shouts. Frenzied cheers.

Oliver touched the spot where her lips had brushed against him, feeling the lingering warmth.

Jenna, her eyes gleaming with amusement, whispered,

"My name's Jenna. You better remember that—it's your girlfriend's name now."

And just like that, she spun around, disappearing into the crowd.

Oliver stood there, stunned.

"Damn, bro."

"That was something else."

"Not bad at all."

His teammates swarmed him, laughing, teasing, half-jealous, half-impressed.

Oliver just stared after her, still touching his cheek.

Well.

That was new.

Next Chapter: Oliver/Dark Horse!


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