Chapter 33: Capturing the Threat

The locker room of the Yoshido basketball club was filled with laughter and chatter. The team, sitting on the benches, discussed the upcoming party at the hangout where they planned to celebrate their latest victory.

"Hey, Lu Shen," Jung Ho began, winking at his friend, "you know there are such 'jokes' at the hangout that you couldn't come up with yourself?"

Lu Shen leaned forward with a smirk on his face. "Yeah? How about 'a vagina is like a ball — always in play'?" he blurted out, causing an explosion of laughter.

Haru Lin, sitting nearby, teased him: "Lu, do you realize that your fucking jokes are like your game? A complete lack of strategy!"

"Oh, come on!" Lu Shen waved it off, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "If I were as good at the game as I am in sex, we'd already be in the finals!"

Ming You, sitting at the edge of the bench, crossed his arms and looked at his teammates. His cold gaze made everyone freeze. "This is not a victory," he said, his voice quiet but sounding like a hammer strike. "This is just a step. We will celebrate a real victory only after we take first place in the interschool tournaments."

Silence enveloped the locker room, but then Jung Ho, not losing his sense of humor, tried to lighten the mood: "Well, if you insist, Ming You, maybe we should just celebrate the 'step'? How about a toast to the 'first place' in our hearts?"

"Yeah," Haru chimed in. "And then we can 'fix' our vagina jokes at the next meeting."

Lu Shen grinned widely again. "Sounds like a plan! But I still won't pass up on some fucking. Jokes aside, I need 'jokes' in real life!"

Ming You, not giving in to the provocations, stood up and adjusted his uniform. "Let's put off the whores until we achieve our goal. I'm going to San Liu for the game records of the next team. We need to prepare."

"Oh, plot twist!" Jung Ho exclaimed. "Ming You, you're not going to watch the recordings without us, are you? This is a team effort!"

"I'm not going to waste time on your jokes," Ming You replied, his voice as cold as ice. "We have work to do."

The team, despite his cool demeanor, felt his determination lifting their spirits. They stood up, full of enthusiasm and readiness for the next challenge.

"Alright," said Hong Ren, "let's do this. We need to be ready."

Ming You, not waiting for approving shouts, left the locker room. His footsteps echoed in the hallway as he headed to the manager's office, his thoughts focused on the next step of their journey, or rather, his own path.

"The team is just pieces on a board, and I'm the player. The captain may be the king, but the true captain is the one who knows how to manage both the king and his pieces," he mused.

And with these thoughts, he left the school gym, his figure disappearing behind the door, leaving the team to practice.

The manager's office of the Yoshido basketball club was small but cozy. Photos of the team from their middle school days adorned the walls, with Coach Chang Wu and a tall player with dreadlocks at the center, and game result printouts lay on the desk. Ming You, with his indifferent expression, entered the office without knocking, which caused slight annoyance in San Liu.

"Hey, don't you know how to knock? This isn't your apartment, Ming You," he said, looking up from his laptop.

Ming You tilted his head slightly and replied, "Hi, San Liu. Don't worry, I just came for information."

"Information, you say? You're not in a spy movie, guy. What do you need?" San Liu asked with a crooked smile.

Ming You approached the desk: "Which team will be in the second round of the interschool tournaments?"

San Liu, slightly surprised by Ming You's directness, set down his mouse and looked at him cautiously: "It will be the Siomo team. They are known for their accurate shots. They have an ace — a shooter who can score from almost any point on the court."

"Sounds interesting. I'd like to see the recordings of their games," Ming You said, shaking his head.

San Liu, a bit taken aback by such insistence, opened a drawer and pulled out a flash drive, handing it to Ming You: "Here, take it. All their matches, including the latest ones."

Ming You took the flash drive, his hand gliding over the surface as if he could already see the game he was about to play.

"Thank you very much," he said with a sly smile.

Ming You left the office and closed the door behind him. Outside, he paused, looking at the flash drive, then putting it in his pocket as he headed for the school exit.

Ming You entered his rented apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. Inside, it was quiet, like an abandoned temple, and only the faint sound of dripping water from the kitchen faucet broke the silence. He walked to the table where a black laptop lay and, without wasting time, inserted the flash drive. The screen lit up, and recordings of the Siomo team's games began to play.

"Well, let's see what you have," he said, as if addressing invisible viewers, and settled in comfortably.

The screen flashed with clips: players in uniforms, excited faces, the sound of the ball bouncing on the hardwood. Ming You watched every movement intently. Soon, his attention was drawn to Guk Chhol — a forward with incredible physical attributes and accuracy that one could only dream of.

"Damn," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "This guy is pretty good. I hope I'll be better to humiliate you in the game, not outside of it."

He turned up the volume and squinted, watching as Guk Chhol made another three-pointer. At that moment, an idea began to form in his mind, one that could be the key to his success.

"I guess I'll have to work a bit," he said, smirking ironically. "First surveillance, then — the final act."

Ming You opened his browser and began searching for information on Guk Chhol. He knew that everyone had their weaknesses, and his task was to find them. Thanks to the manager and his recordings, he learned the school Guk Chhol attended, making it much easier to find him on social media. He quickly found a social media profile where Guk Chhol shared his training and successes.

"Interesting," he muttered, clicking through links. "Friends, gym, cafes… And all with the team. Not bad, Guk Chhol, not bad."

At that moment, his phone rang. Ming You glanced at the screen — it was Taek Jun. He answered, trying to sound friendly.

"Hey, Ming You," his voice came through.

"Let's get to the point," he replied calmly.

"Your rookies, or the reserves, I don't know what else to call these losers, well, they're bringing in decent profit, and I need to know when to drop off the cash to you," he explained in a calm tone.

"You can keep it for now; the money doesn't interest me. What matters to me is victory. And if victory can be achieved with money, I'll definitely rob this whole gang, Taek Jun," Ming You replied nonchalantly.

"Haha! What a joker you are! Alright, kid, I mean boss, thanks for the cash, my job was just to report the situation," Taek Jun chuckled.

"Okay." Ming You hung up and looked back at the screen, where Guk Chhol was laughing and teasing someone with his friends.

"What a shameless guy!" Taek Jun said already on the streetball court when Ming You abruptly hung up.

Meanwhile, Ming You felt a plan starting to take shape in his head. First surveillance, then — action. He leaned back in his chair and began to organize his thoughts.

"If you're so agile on the court," he said aloud, "how about testing your agility off it?"

Ming You changed into a black hoodie and khaki pants, transforming into a shadow. He placed a medical mask and a black beanie in his pockets, hiding his face from prying eyes. He started stuffing empty trash bags and stacks of white polyethylene into his backpack, but there was also a black garbage bag with protruding tools. At the top of the bag was his symbol of victory — a kitchen knife that had taken a dozen lives. Below it were other equally important tools — a cleaver, a hammer, a saw, and a UV flashlight.

Ming You knew that inside his backpack were not just tools, but opportunities. Ming You left his house, his steps quiet, almost imperceptible.

"I hope I won't have to deal with your relatives or buddies," he muttered to himself as he headed for the van.

The van sat in the parking lot like an old dog waiting for its owner. Ming You opened the door and tossed his backpack onto the back seat, where scrap metal and a metal bat lay. He got behind the wheel, started the engine, and the van slowly rolled down the city streets like a ghost leaving no trace.

The street basketball court was sparsely populated. The Siomo team, according to Ming You's plan, was just gathering for practice, and Ming You knew his target — Guk Chhol, the ace of the team. He parked the van and got out, leaving his backpack beside him on the bench. Sitting there, he took out his phone, pretending to check messages, but his attention was focused on the court.

Ming You continued to pretend to be on his phone, but he leaned back a few times, lost in thought.

An hour and a half passed before he finally noticed the Siomo team. Guk Chhol, tall and confident, walked at the center of the group, his presence drawing attention. Ming You felt excitement rising within him.

"Listen up, guys," Guk Chhol began, heading with his team to the court, his voice sounding confident. "Today we need to work on our combinations. We have to be ready for the next match."

"Yeah, but we have other problems," interjected a tall player with a bowl cut.

"Did you see their tactics last time? If we don't pull it together, they might shake our confidence."

"Don't worry, Han," said another player, who was shorter than his teammates. "You're just overthinking it. We have Guk. He'll handle them."

"This isn't just about me," Guk Chhol replied, shaking his head. "We need to play as a team. Each of us has to be on point. Despite their weaker accuracy, they're quite fast and coordinated."

"They're faster and more coordinated?" Han asked in confusion. "You mean we have a chance of losing?"

"No, I mean we need to work on our potential weaknesses," Guk explained, his gaze becoming more serious. "We have to be one step ahead. If any of us falters, we could really lose to those kids."

"Alright," Han said, patting Guk Chhol on the shoulder. "Let's just work on the combinations. We'll manage if we work together."

"Exactly," one of the players agreed. "And if someone isn't in shape, I'll back them up. We're a team!"

"Okay," Guk nodded, his confidence returning. "Let's start with simple passes. Han, you dribble the ball, and I'll stay in touch with you. The rest — take your positions."

The team had already entered the basketball court and taken their places, and Ming You, watching them from a distance, felt his plan beginning to take shape, but he didn't realize a sly, sinister grin had appeared on his face.

Ming You stood up from the bench, stretched, and taking his backpack with the tools, headed to the van. He knew he had about an hour, and this time needed to be used wisely.

"How amusing," various thoughts swirled in Ming You's head as he sat behind the wheel of the van. "People always think they have control. But control is an illusion. All they do is move according to a pre-written script."

He started the engine, and the van rolled off. Ming You drove a few blocks, where Guk Chhol was supposed to come from according to his calculations. And when he spotted an abandoned garage, he stopped, got out of the van, and headed inside.

"Hehe, silence," he thought to himself, closing the door behind him.

Ming You stood in the abandoned garage, his face as indifferent as ever. He looked at the dusty floor where a car might have once stood and contemplated how easily one could change a person's fate. In his hands were polyethylene films, which he began to spread on the floor, as if preparing the stage for the next act of his cold-blooded performance.

He carefully laid out the film, his movements smooth and confident, as if they had become instinctive. Then, putting on gloves, he placed the trash bag with tools — the kitchen knife and cleaver — on the floor.

At that moment, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen — it was Jung Ho, but Ming You declined the call, unwilling to be distracted from his thoughts. He knew it was time to act.

When he got back into the van and arrived at the basketball court, the Siomo team was already dispersing. Ming You watched them, his gaze focused on one person — Guk Chhol. He knew that today his plan would work.

"Time to act," he thought, putting on the medical mask and black wool beanie. Ming You hid the crowbar behind his back and, like a ghost, stepped out of the van and headed toward the alley near the parking lot.

He saw Guk Chhol, who looked careless, walking and looking at his phone, completely unaware.

And at that moment, Ming You sprang out from the alley.

Ming Yu silently knocked him out with a crowbar, without any emotion or fear. The blow was precise and strong, and Guk Chhol fell to the ground.

"Why are you all so huge, huh?" Ming You said mentally, looking around the parking lot. He quickly pushed Guk Chhol into the van, closed the doors and drove into the garage he had prepared.

In the garage, he pulled Guk Chhol out of the van and slowly tied him to a pipe wrapped in layers of white plastic.