Chapter Seventy-Eight: Teasing

Geng Haoshi was mulling over mischievous ideas as he made his way toward the Boss’s office.

Upon entering, he saw Manman Yu reclining in a massage chair, one leg crossed over the other, holding a wine glass half-filled with red wine. Geng Haoshi couldn't help but sigh inwardly: We wear ourselves out training every day, but our beautiful coach surely knows how to enjoy life.

“Hey, just in time. I have something to take care of outside, so you stay here and study their offensive tactics,” Manman Yu said.

She put down her wine glass and walked out of the Boss’s office.

Once she was gone, Geng Haoshi plopped himself down onto the massage chair. “So comfortable!” he exclaimed, closing his eyes and savoring a few minutes of a full-body massage.

“Huh? Are these our shooting percentages?” he wondered aloud.

The enormous monitoring screen displayed twelve video quadrants in three rows and four columns, each corresponding to one of the numbered X-series rooms (excluding X-0 outside the gym). Each video quadrant showed live footage of its respective room. In the top left corner of every quadrant, three rows of numbers flickered and changed—except for Room X-6.

“That’s my room,” Geng Haoshi muttered, staring at the quadrant labeled “X-6.” The three displayed statistics read: Number of Matches (1000), Successful Shots (366), Shooting Percentage (36.6%).

“Thirty-six point six percent,” Geng Haoshi nodded with satisfaction. “Not bad—I really am something!”

System 9527 interjected sweatily: Master, when your opponent is just a single clumsy robot and your shooting percentage is only 36.6%, how can you think you’re talented? ...Oh, I get it, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?

Geng Haoshi: Shut up, you miserable system!

Sliding the mouse, Geng Haoshi began tinkering with the surveillance computer. “Not much different from an ordinary PC,” he quickly concluded as he familiarized himself with the controls.

“Which one to pick first?” He moved the mouse, the giant screen’s white hand icon gliding with it.

“Heh, let’s try Brother Zhu Di first.” Geng Haoshi snickered, pointing to the video quadrant for Zhu Di in Room X-3, then clicked the dialogue icon in the lower right corner.

Clearing his throat, he imitated Manman Yu’s voice—though it sounded more like a eunuch than anything else: “Zhu Di, move your feet faster! Don’t be such a sissy!”

Hearing this strangely mocking voice, Zhu Di froze for several seconds. Could the coach’s microphone be malfunctioning, making her voice sound so odd? ...Recalling Manman Yu’s recent brutal coaching style, Zhu Di dared not delay—he certainly didn’t want to be whipped—so he hastened his footwork.

Zhu Di never suspected Geng Haoshi was behind the orders, since everyone should be in their own rooms undergoing the shooting percentage assessment.

“Didn’t get enough at lunch? Faster!” Geng Haoshi called out.

Weird as the voice was, its overbearing tone was pure Manman Yu, so Zhu Di dared not hesitate and sped up again.

Watching Zhu Di obediently comply, Geng Haoshi had to stifle a laugh.

“Now, let’s try our ‘beloved’ captain.” Geng Haoshi selected the video feed for Captain Meng Lang in Room X-1. “Meng Lang, are you sleepwalking? You’re facing a single robot—how are you taking so long? If you keep dawdling, I’ll castrate you myself!”

Geng Haoshi couldn’t be more pleased; normally, only he got threatened with “castration” by Manman Yu, but today he finally had the chance to say it to someone else.

Meng Lang, upon hearing the message, was also taken aback. The voice was odd, but he dared not dwell on it and promptly increased his pace.

“Zhou Xiaoshan, if you’re short, you should at least jump higher, or you’ll get blocked easily!” (Zhou Xiaoshan is 176cm, Geng Haoshi 170cm.)

“Chen Yu, what’s wrong, didn’t eat? Put some strength into it!”

“Zhang Zhaolong, can you dribble any slower? Are you dancing in the square?”

“He Zhikun, you’re supposed to shoot, not smash the hoop!”

Thus, Geng Haoshi went through his teammates one by one.

While his teammates grew increasingly tense and flustered, Geng Haoshi was having the time of his life.

“What’s this?” Geng Haoshi suddenly noticed three buttons at the bottom of the giant monitoring screen, labeled “Normal,” “Professional,” and “Super.” Only the “Normal” button glowed red.

Curiosity piqued, Geng Haoshi pressed the “Professional” button.

The “Professional” button lit up, and the red glow on “Normal” disappeared.

“Hmm, must be for some setting or other,” he mused, stroking his chin and glancing up at the screen.

“Are those robots moving faster now?” He watched the eleven video quadrants (excluding his own X-6) and saw the robots’ movements had all sped up.

“So that’s how it works.” Geng Haoshi deduced the buttons must correspond to different levels of robotic athleticism.

“Robots at the ‘Professional’ level are definitely much tougher than the ‘Normal’ ones!” Watching his teammates struggle more in their duels, Geng Haoshi, feeling like a seasoned coach, pondered for a moment—then pressed the “Super” button.

The moment he hit “Super,” the robots in the eleven rooms shot toward their human opponents like arrows released from a bow!

A flurry of sharp “smack, smack, smack” sounds followed.

In less than two seconds, the robots in all eleven rooms had snatched the basketballs from their respective players!

“Unbelievable!” Geng Haoshi’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

Inside those eleven rooms, every teammate was dumbfounded by the robots’ sudden burst of speed.

Eager to see another round of “Super” robot duels, Geng Haoshi clicked the “Select All” icon in the lower right corner of the screen (allowing him to address all rooms at once), and then, still imitating Manman Yu’s voice, he barked into the microphone, “Quit standing around! Start the next round, now!”

None of the teammates dared hesitate; they hurriedly picked up their basketballs from the floor, retreated beyond the yellow line (the battle zone was inside), and then, balls in hand, charged back into the battle zone...