Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog-Chapter 584: Well, It’s Not Entirely True

Well, it seemed like Kai didn't get to have a chance at all.

It was their game day.

Spain vs. China.

And, of course, Kai didn't play again—not even for a second.

"Well, it appears like the Chinese team isn't going to qualify for the quarter-finals once more. I can't say I'm surprised," David said, chuckling into the microphone. "The public initially wanted them to do well. However, the expectations were already low. They've never placed."

"That's true," Gina chuckled alongside him. "We were the commentators for the Interhigh Nationals, and it was quite exciting, wasn't it? I was looking forward to seeing the young players on the global stage, but they're not being utilized well."

"I think it's only normal," David said. "They're young and inexperienced. I think the power of their team is overall lacking. Even if they switch around their rosters, nothing is going to happen."

Gina sighed, appearing dejected. However, she suddenly burst into joy. "Well, at least there's still good news! The women's team beat the Canadian team this morning, and they're guaranteed to enter the quarter-finals even if they still have one last game in the qualifying round."

"That is good news for the basketball fans! The day after tomorrow, they're going to have another game. Let's all support our women's team!"

Meanwhile, inside the locker room where the Chinese team was, silence reigned.

The sound of the Spanish team celebrating in the hallway seeped faintly through the walls, a reminder of how close yet so far the game had been.

Jerseys were damp with sweat and effort, but the score on the board had crushed any remaining sense of pride.

76–69.

They'd fought hard, but once again, it wasn't enough.

Kai sat on the far bench, his shoulders slumped and his gaze locked on the floor.

Jimmy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, scowling at nothing in particular.

Max tossed a towel onto his head and let out a long, exasperated sigh. Around them, the rest of the team looked the same.

No one dared to speak.

Coach Xu Wei stood by the whiteboard, his hands on his hips, eyes staring blankly at the notes scribbled there.

Plays. Plans. All of it was useless now.

He opened his mouth once, wanting to say something, but no words came. What could he say?

Their chances at advancing to the quarter-finals had slipped through their fingers like sand, and it was happening again.

The Japan team had been crushed by Australia earlier that morning, and now Spain had won against both of them.

Australia and Spain would advance. That much was clear.

China's only hope rested on a prayer—a victory against Japan.

Then, if they were fortunate enough, they might just land the seventh or eighth spot.

The silence was suffocating, making Kai let out a deep breath.

And then, he snapped.

"That's it," he said. "I've had enough."

Everyone froze. All eyes snapped toward Kai, whose fists were clenched against his knees. He stood abruptly, the scrape of his bench legs dragging against the tile floor.

"What the hell is your problem?" Muyang barked, not liking the tone of the young kid.

Kai didn't flinch. He glared at the room, his chest heaving, words rushing out before he could stop them.

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"I know why we always fail and why our country never qualifies for the Global Games."

The room went dead silent again.

"What are you talking about, Kai?" Jaw-Long asked cautiously, his brow furrowed.

Kai took a step forward. "I'm talking about the same thing that happens every season. The same mistakes. The same failures. And everyone just—just accepts it!"

"Kai, that's enough," Dong snapped, rising to his feet, trying to put himself between Kai and the rest of the room. "We don't need this right now—"

"No!" Kai cut him off, his voice firm. "You need to hear this. We all need to hear this." He looked at each of them. "You want to know why our country always loses? Why we're never the team that makes it out of the group stage?"

"Fine," Marcus muttered through gritted teeth. "Enlighten us."

Kai didn't hesitate. He raised a hand, ticking off each point with his fingers as he spoke.

"One. We lack teamwork," Kai said, his voice hard. "We're all playing like individuals out there. Half the time, I don't even know what we're doing."

No one said anything. Some of them stared at the floor; others looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes.

"Two," Kai continued, "we lack drive. Yeah, we say we want to win, but do we really want it? Where's the fire? Where's the desperation? When they're out there diving for loose balls, scrapping for every rebound, what are we doing? Watching? Hoping someone else will step up? Are you used to being losers at this point that you're not trying your absolute hardest?"

"Kai, that's enough," Zheng tried this time, gauging the reactions of the older players.

Kai ignored him, his voice growing louder. "Three. You stick to tradition. You're too afraid to change anything. You think that if you keep doing the same thing over and over, it'll suddenly start working. You're not fixing what's broke—you're ignoring it!"

A heavy silence followed his outburst.

Jimmy's arms fell from his chest as he stared at Kai, stunned. Max, still seated, glanced around the room nervously. Well, Kai did say what the younger players had been wanting to say.

However, having him say it out loud was outrageous. How does he have the courage?

Kai's chest rose and fell.

"What do you know?" Marcus asked. "You're 16. You've only been born for four Global Games. How do you know these flaws of ours when you've barely watched two seasons with consciousness?"

"I know you've never won," Kai smirked.

Coach Xu Wei, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him.

"Alright, Kai," Coach Xu said slowly, his expression giving away nothing. "You've made your point."

Kai blinked, the fight in his eyes still present but tempered now.

"What do you suggest we do then?"