Chapter Three: First official day of school

Ethan zipped up his black and gold basketball team jacket, the school's crest stitched proudly over the chest. Even though he was technically on the bench, wearing the jacket made it feel real—it was proof he'd made the team. He caught his reflection in the locker room mirror, taking a moment to adjust the hood and brush a hand through his messy dark brown hair.

"First period," he muttered, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His hazel eyes lingered on the reflection for a moment longer. The system stats were still swirling in his mind, a mix of excitement and nervousness buzzing in his chest. Was anyone else noticing the faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips?

As he stepped out into the bustling hallway, the jacket seemed to draw a few glances. Some students smiled or gave him quick nods, and a couple of teammates from tryouts even clapped him on the back as they passed.

"Yo, Walker!" one of them called out. "Congrats on making the team!"

Ethan nodded, a shy grin creeping onto his face. "Thanks, man."

He weaved his way through the crowded halls, the sound of lockers slamming and chatter filling the air. First period was math, and while numbers weren't his strong suit, today felt different. He wasn't just Ethan Walker, the awkward, unsure freshman anymore. He was Ethan Walker, freshman point guard—with a system.

Sliding into his seat, he pulled out his notebook and glanced at the clock. Five minutes until class started. His mind wandered back to the glowing menu from earlier. Could he still bring it up?

Ethan leaned back slightly and whispered, "System… menu."

The glowing overlay appeared, faint but clear in front of him, invisible to anyone else. He scanned his stats again, his eyes falling on his boosted Passing stat. It felt good seeing that number rise, but the potential of what it could be in the future excited him even more.

Quest Active: Prove Yourself in Practice

Objective: Show noticeable improvement in your passing during today's practice.Reward: +1 Stat Point

Ethan bit back a smile. He couldn't wait to see what the rest of the day—and the system—had in store.

Ethan's day continued as it usually did—well, almost. He sat through math, history, and English, taking notes and trying to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the system. Every so often, he'd glance around the classroom to make sure no one was watching before quietly whispering, "Menu," under his breath. The glowing interface would flicker to life, and he'd stare at his stats, imagining how they might improve.

Passing: 10/100.

It wasn't much, but it was a start. Every time he thought about it, he felt the same flicker of excitement.

By the time lunch rolled around, Ethan had settled into a seat at one of the quieter tables in the cafeteria, nibbling on a turkey sandwich while scrolling through his phone. He wasn't one of the loud, outgoing kids who took up the center of the room, but he was okay with that. He liked his space.

"Yo, Walker!" a familiar voice called out.

Ethan looked up to see one of his teammates, Marcus, striding over with a tray piled high with food. Marcus was a sophomore, tall and lean, with the effortless swagger of someone who'd been on the team for a year already.

"You excited about being on the team, man?" Marcus asked, dropping into the seat across from him. "Bet Coach'll have us running drills like crazy later."

"Yeah, I'm, uh, looking forward to it," Ethan replied, trying not to sound too nervous.

"Good," Marcus said, grinning. "You got some work to do, but hey, we all start somewhere, right?"

Ethan nodded, though the words stung a little. He already knew he wasn't the most talented player on the team—he didn't need the reminder.

As Marcus headed off to join his friends, Ethan's eyes flicked back to the system.

Quest Reminder: Prove Yourself in Practice

Objective: Show noticeable improvement in your passing during today's practice.

Ethan clenched his fists under the table. This wasn't just about getting better—it was about proving he belonged.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Science class dragged on, and gym was a mixed bag as usual. He couldn't stop imagining what practice would be like now that he had an edge, even if it was small.

By the time the final bell rang, Ethan practically bolted to his locker. He swapped out his schoolbooks for his gym bag, his heart thudding with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

"Time to see if this system really works," he muttered to himself, slinging the bag over his shoulder and heading for the gym.

As practice started, Ethan stood at the edge of the court, stretching and watching the rest of the team warm up. His nerves were jangling, but the system's stats and quest were at the forefront of his mind. Just a 10/100 in passing didn't seem like much on paper, but somehow, he could feel the difference buzzing inside him, like his instincts were sharper.

Coach Daniels blew his whistle, signaling the start of passing drills. The team formed two lines, and the players began moving through a simple passing exercise: chest passes, bounce passes, and quick touch passes to moving targets.

Ethan stepped up, gripping the ball in his hands. As soon as he locked eyes with his target, the system's influence kicked in. His hands moved without hesitation, and the ball zipped through the air with a precision that surprised even him.

Thwap!

The ball landed perfectly in his teammate's hands, and they gave him a quick nod before continuing.

"Not bad, Walker," Coach Daniels called, scribbling something on his clipboard.

Ethan swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on the drill. As he cycled through, each pass felt more natural, more fluid. The trajectory, the spin—everything seemed clearer. He wasn't just throwing the ball; he was seeing the best way to deliver it.

The real test came during the scrimmage. Coach divided the team into two squads for a full-court 5-on-5 game. Ethan was placed with the second-string players, as expected, but he wasn't about to let that stop him.

The first few plays were rough—his team struggled to keep up with the starters, and Ethan barely touched the ball. But when he finally got a chance to handle it, everything changed.

The ball landed in his hands, and time seemed to slow down. His eyes scanned the court, and suddenly, the chaos of the game felt organized. He spotted a teammate cutting toward the basket and instinctively fired a bounce pass through two defenders.

Swish!

"Nice look, Walker!" one of his teammates called out, jogging back on defense.

Ethan's heart raced as he jogged up the court. The next time he had the ball, he repeated the process. Another quick pass, this time a crisp chest pass to the corner for an open jumper.

By the end of the scrimmage, Ethan had racked up a handful of assists. He wasn't scoring, but his passing was making a noticeable impact. Even the starters were nodding in approval.

Coach Daniels blew the whistle to end the scrimmage and called everyone into a huddle.

"Good hustle today, everyone. Walker," Coach said, locking eyes with Ethan. "I don't know what you've been eating, but keep it up. That passing was sharp."

Ethan's cheeks flushed as a few teammates clapped him on the back.

[QUEST COMPLETE!]

Prove Yourself in Practice

Reward: +1 Stat Point

The notification popped up in his vision as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Ethan grinned to himself, the sense of accomplishment filling him with pride.

This was just the beginning.

As the team broke for water, Ethan sat on the bench, pretending to check his phone while really focusing on the glowing system menu in front of him.

Passing: 10/100

He smirked, his finger hovering over the blinking "+1 Stat Point" notification. Without hesitation, he tapped on it and watched as the number next to Passing ticked up.

Passing: 11/100

Ethan felt a slight buzz ripple through him, like the system was syncing the change with his body. The ball suddenly felt even more natural in his hands, like an extension of himself. He didn't know how it worked, but he wasn't about to question it.

"Let's see how much better this feels," he muttered under his breath, smirking again as he stood up.

The team reassembled for one last drill—full-court passing. The players were instructed to move the ball quickly down the court with sharp, precise passes, simulating fast breaks. Ethan jogged onto the court, gripping the ball with a newfound confidence.

He fired his first pass to a teammate cutting down the sideline, and the ball zipped perfectly into their hands, hitting them in stride. His next pass, a quick bounce to the center, threaded through two defenders like a laser.

"Nice!" one of the seniors called out as Ethan set himself up for the next sequence.

The more he passed, the more fluid it felt. The ball didn't just move where he wanted—it moved exactly how his teammate needed it. A bounce pass arrived softly, a chest pass carried the right amount of force, and even the long-distance outlet passes arched perfectly into waiting hands.

By the end of the drill, even Coach Daniels had to take notice. "Walker," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Where's all this coming from? That's some serious improvement in just a day."

Ethan shrugged, hiding his smirk. "Just... putting in the work, Coach."

"Keep it up," Coach replied, giving a rare nod of approval.

As practice ended and the team began to pack up, Ethan tossed his basketball jacket over his shoulders, still grinning to himself. The system was no joke, and he could already feel the difference.

Walking out of the gym, Ethan whispered to himself, "This is just the beginning."

Ethan jogged home, the cool evening air brushing against his face as he replayed the events of practice in his mind. His sneakers tapped rhythmically against the pavement, and the faint glow of streetlights flickered on as the sun dipped below the horizon.

The system had changed everything. For the first time, he felt like he could really make a difference on the team—not just another benchwarmer waiting for scraps of playing time.

As he turned the corner to his street, the familiar sight of his house came into view. The porch light was already on, and the warm glow spilling out from the windows made him pick up his pace. He could smell dinner wafting out even before he opened the door.

"Ethan, that you?" his mom's voice called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's me!" he replied, dropping his gym bag by the door and kicking off his sneakers. The aroma of baked chicken and roasted vegetables hit him, making his stomach rumble.

He walked into the dining room, where his mom was setting the table. She looked up, her dark brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and gave him a warm smile.

"How was your first day back at school?" she asked, placing a plate of chicken on the table.

"It was... eventful," Ethan said, trying to sound casual as he slid into his chair.

His dad, sitting at the head of the table, raised an eyebrow as he glanced up from his tablet. "Eventful? Good or bad?"

"Good," Ethan said quickly. "I made the basketball team."

His mom beamed. "That's great, honey! I knew you could do it."

His dad nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Good job, Ethan. But making the team is just the first step. You're gonna have to work hard to prove yourself out there."

Ethan nodded, his dad's words striking a chord. He couldn't tell them about the system—not yet, anyway—but he knew they were right. Hard work was what got him this far, and it would still be what carried him forward, system or not.

As they ate, Ethan listened to his parents talk about their day, chiming in here and there. But in the back of his mind, he was already planning his next move. The system had given him an edge, but he knew he couldn't rely on it alone.

Once dinner was finished and the dishes were done, Ethan retreated to his room, tossing his jacket onto his desk chair and flopping onto the bed. Pulling up the system menu, he stared at his stats again, the small improvements fueling his determination.

"Tomorrow," he whispered to himself, "I'm gonna push even harder."

With that, he closed the menu, turned off his light, and let himself drift off to sleep, dreaming of what was next.