Chapter 2

The silence of the night filled the room as Brian stared at the ceiling. The feeling of being alive again was still surreal. His body was perfect, his talent absolute, yet something inside him remained the same—that familiar emptiness.

No family. No friends. No one.

He never needed anyone. Not when he grew up alone, without parents to guide him, without friends to share victories or failures. His pride refused weakness, and his arrogance always pushed people away. To him, people were either obstacles or spectators. Nothing more.

But now, he was back. And the world would kneel before him.

He got out of bed and looked around. The room was simple but modern, with sleek furniture and a large window overlooking the city. He walked over to a desk and found a sketchbook lying there. Without thinking, he picked up a pencil and started drawing.

It was a habit that only surfaced in moments like this—when his mind was restless. His strokes flowed naturally, almost automatically. In minutes, the scene from the court earlier was immortalized on paper: him soaring for a monstrous dunk while the other players watched in shock.

He studied the drawing for a moment before closing the sketchbook and tossing it back on the desk.

That didn't matter now.

His goal was simple: domination.

He changed into light training clothes and left.

The city air was different at night—quieter, cooler. He walked aimlessly for a few minutes, absorbing every detail around him—the sound of footsteps on the pavement, the rustling of leaves, muffled conversations from a distance. His body was ready to be tested.

He entered a 24-hour gym. The receptionist eyed him curiously, but Brian ignored it. He walked straight to the weights, grabbing a bar with heavy plates that most people would struggle to lift.

He lifted it like it was paper.

The sensation was unreal. His muscles moved with perfect efficiency. He increased the weight. Same result.

A trainer approached him.

— Hey, man… are you sure you can lift that? That's pro-level weight.

Brian just looked at him, as if the question was ridiculous.

— This? Barely felt it.

He laid on the bench, loaded the maximum weight available, and started lifting effortlessly. A few people around stopped to watch. He increased his speed. Ten reps. Twenty. Thirty. Not even a hint of fatigue.

He stood up, rolling his shoulders, and saw the stunned look on the trainer's face.

— That was a warm-up. Got anything heavier?

The man mumbled something, unable to respond. Brian smirked.

— That's what I thought.

Satisfied, he left the gym. His body was perfect. Now, it was time to decide where to begin his domination.

Basketball was booming, and the NBA was the biggest stage in the world. If he wanted to make an explosive debut, that was the place.

He walked to a public court where a group of players was going at it in a street game. He watched for a moment, analyzing every movement, every mistake, every hesitation. To him, the game looked like it was in slow motion.

A loose ball rolled toward him. He picked it up, spinning it effortlessly on his finger. One of the players noticed.

— Yo, you wanna play?

Brian grinned.

— Sure. But just a warning… this is gonna be painful for you guys.

The players laughed, thinking he was just another cocky guy.

But the moment the game started, everything changed.

Brian moved like a ghost, slipping past defenders as if they were cones. When he jumped for the basket, his body shot into the air like a rocket, throwing down a dunk so powerful the backboard almost shattered.

Silence.

One of the players blinked, in complete disbelief.

— What the hell was that?!

Brian grabbed the ball and tossed it back to them.

— That was me going easy.

He didn't need anyone. No friends, no family, no support. All he needed was victory.

And soon, the world would learn the name Brian Moser.