Chapter 64: I’ll Castrate You!

On the first page of the notebook, it was boldly written: From October 15 to December 15, 2016, the shooting percentage must reach 33%, or else... castration!

Geng Haoshi swallowed hard, thinking, 33%! Doesn’t that mean one out of every three shots must go in? I shoot two or three thousand times a day now and can’t even make a hundred! Can I really improve that much in two months?!

Despite his fear, Geng Haoshi mustered the courage to ask Manman Yu, “Coach, isn’t this a bit too hard for me?”

“Too blue? So you want pink instead?” (Note: Manman Yu custom-ordered notebooks for the team with pale blue paper... Of course, she knew Geng Haoshi wasn’t talking about the color of the paper.)

“I’m not talking about the color, I mean—”

Before he could finish, Manman Yu shot him a glare brimming with murderous intent. “Then stop wasting time!”

Clearly, Manman Yu had no intention of letting Geng Haoshi bargain.

“The rest of the notebook you can read during breakfast... Now start warm-ups!”

Though they hadn’t had time to read all of their notebooks, each team member had at least glimpsed the goals they were required to achieve in the next two months.

Despite their doubts about these demanding targets (Note: because they’re all quite difficult), none dared complain, and everyone obediently began the warm-up exercises.

Ten minutes passed; warm-ups finished, and the players started their morning routine: a hundred laps around the court.

Running a hundred laps first thing in the morning, without having eaten, was certainly harsh. But with Manman Yu as their coach, what could they expect? No matter how exhausted, they had to endure—it was better than being kicked off the school team.

At 7:26, the players finally finished their hundred laps.

Barely catching their breath, Manman Yu recorded their times and announced, “You started at 6:23, it’s now 7:26—you took a whole hour and three minutes to finish.”

“This is the first training session for the national collegiate basketball league... Poor performance!”

“From now on, you must finish within an hour, and every day’s result must be better than the last.”

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes!” the players answered in unison.

Who dared say “didn’t hear”? She asks every time... Geng Haoshi grumbled inwardly.

“Next is shooting practice. Move! Move! Move!”

The players sweated: after a hundred laps, not even a short break.

“Twelve people, six on each side, focus on the basket, don’t worry if it goes in or not, shoot one after another, keep your hands moving!”

The team grabbed their balls and began shooting drills.

...

By 8 o’clock, their legs and arms were aching.

“Guys, breakfast is ready!” Li Shishi had bought breakfast for everyone.

Listlessly, the players shuffled into the kitchen in the gym, sat down, and took out the customized notebooks Manman Yu had given them.

Geng Haoshi opened his notebook and read further—From December 15, 2016 to February 15, 2017, shooting percentage must reach 39%, or else... castration! From February 15 to April 15, 2017, shooting percentage must reach 45%, or else... castration!

Damn! It’s all shooting percentages! Fail and I get castrated! Coach, do you really want to castrate me?

9527: Master, I just checked—the average shooting percentage for NBA players is about 45%.

Geng Haoshi: 45%, basically one out of every two shots! Are NBA players really that good?

9527: That 45% includes free throws, and most NBA players have pretty high free throw percentages, which boosts the average.

Geng Haoshi: So, if it’s just shooting without defenders, then reaching 45% in six months should be doable, right?

9527: Master, knowing Manman Yu’s temperament, she probably won’t just have you practice free throws.

Geng Haoshi: ...That’s true.

Geng Haoshi flipped to the second page of his notebook: Geng Haoshi, male, age 20, height 170 cm, weight 136 pounds, training room number X-6.

X-6? Isn’t that one of the twelve mysterious rooms in the Chen Zhi Gym, freshly renovated, doors locked, not yet open to us?

The third page only had “October 15, 2016” at the top, the rest blank.

The fourth, fifth, and other pages—each only had a date at the top.

What was the purpose? Geng Haoshi couldn’t figure it out.

“Zhu Di, let me see your notebook.” Geng Haoshi wanted to check if Zhu Di’s notebook also had a mysterious room number and those blank pages with dates.

Opening Zhu Di’s notebook, the first page read: October 15 to December 15, 2016, shooting percentage must reach 33%! December 15, 2016 to February 15, 2017, shooting percentage must reach 39%! February 15 to April 15, 2017, shooting percentage must reach 45%!

Damn! The content was basically the same, but why didn’t his have “or else... castration”? Geng Haoshi swallowed hard, thinking: Is the coach planning to castrate me because I keep staring at her chest?

On Zhu Di’s second page: Zhu Di, male, age 21, height 186 cm, weight 156 pounds, training room number X-3.

Sure enough, there was a mysterious room number! Geng Haoshi called out, “Guys, do your notebooks all have a training room number starting with X?”

Meng Lang: “Yeah, mine’s X-5.”

Xu Gaofeng: “Mine’s X-2.”

Zhou Xiaoshan: “Mine’s X-1.”

...The players all chimed in with their room numbers. As expected, they all started with X.

Geng Haoshi rubbed his chin: “There’s definitely something strange here... Could it be that the coach is actually the leader of an organ trafficking ring, planning to harvest our kidneys in those mysterious rooms?! Or something else?”

Li Shishi, sitting next to him, lowered her voice, “Senior, now that you mention it, last night while I was half-asleep, I think I heard the coach sharpening knives in her room, counting as she did: one, two, three, four, five, six...”