How painful is losing weight?
To put it bluntly, ever since Zack started his weight-loss journey, he felt like he was starving enough to devour an entire cow at any given moment.
And as time went on, he began to truly grasp the intensity this body brought to the table.
Hungry?
If you're hungry, why not order a couple of Italian sausage pizzas? The kind with extra toppings!
Look, it's getting late—don't you *really* want to eat something?
Did you know there's a super authentic American fried chicken joint on the street closest to your dorm? Their fried chicken smells *amazing*!
What, you're seriously resisting *this*?
Come on, just eat a little! A small bite won't ruin your diet!
By the fifth day of sticking to his weight-loss plan, Zack felt like he was constantly surrounded by countless tiny devil versions of himself—each with horns and a scythe, endlessly tempting him.
These devilish mini-Zacks weren't just persuasive; they were *talented* at it, and their words were so darn convincing.
"No worries, I'll enjoy every delicious meal this life has to offer when the time comes. But that time isn't now," Zack said with a grin, clutching a basketball in one hand as he faced the swarm of devil mini-Zacks in his dorm.
He knew that once this body shed its current limitations, he wouldn't have to worry about missing out on good food.
After all, even the highest calorie intake would burn away under the intense training of a professional athlete.
At that moment, as Zack stood with a resolute gaze and clear eyes, the devil mini-Zacks—who usually got their way with all sorts of tricks—hung their heads in defeat.
They didn't understand, couldn't comprehend.
Why had the owner of this body suddenly changed so drastically?
*You've changed, bro!*
*You didn't used to be like this!*
*Seriously, is basketball *that* great?*
The next second, as Zack's resolve grew even stronger, the bewildered devil mini-Zacks vanished into thin air.
Meanwhile, Zack, still holding the basketball in one hand, grabbed the diet drink he'd made for himself and headed out of the dorm to start another day of shooting practice.
"Basketball? Yeah, it's *that* great," Zack said to the empty air before stepping out.
…
*Clang!*
*Clang!*
*Clang!*
"Novels are such liars."
On the outdoor court, even though Zack had spent a few days getting used to his new body, he still couldn't find his rhythm during shooting practice. Most of his shots were bricks, and his shooting percentage was downright abysmal.
This made him start doubting the basketball novels he'd read in his previous life.
Clearly, novels were novels, and reality was reality.
In his past life, Zack had honed a shooting touch that could dominate amateur courts.
But basketball is a sport that heavily relies on muscle memory.
And this new body? It had *none* of the muscle memory from his previous life.
Plus, when he'd sifted through the original owner's memories early on, Zack had realized this guy had coasted on raw talent his whole life. He'd barely put any effort into fundamentals and, in the past couple of years, had been so checked out he hardly even touched a basketball.
So, whether he liked it or not, Zack had to accept the truth: if he wanted to make it to the NBA and become a star, he'd need to keep grinding on his weight loss *and* put in serious work to rebuild his fundamentals.
But despite the harsh reality, Zack was brimming with determination.
Because every bit of success he'd achieve in the future would come from the effort he put in now.
On the court, after practicing a bit longer, Zack pulled out the notebook he always carried and started jotting down a summary of his training.
Sure, he hadn't received professional basketball training in his past life, but to play better, he'd watched tons of professional training videos and read up on related books.
In this life, since he couldn't rely on his old muscle memory, Zack figured he might as well design a new, more suitable shooting form based on this body's condition and how it felt to play these past few days.
"My old shooting style was a one-motion shot. Thinking about it now, it kinda wasted this body's natural gifts," he mused.
A one-motion shot refers to a shooting form that doesn't rely on the upper arm for stability.
The NBA's future three-point god, Stephen Curry, is the poster child for this style.
The advantage? It's lightning-fast, letting you shoot off the catch or mid dribble in a flash.
But the downside is just as obvious.
When a defender is glued to you, it's tough to get a clean shot off.
That's why most of Curry's shots rely on teammate screens, off-ball movement, or dribble moves to create just a sliver of space.
Sitting under the hoop, Zack cleared his thoughts and started picturing Kevin Durant's shooting form in his mind.
Yup, that's right.
With a height over 205 cm and a wingspan close to 225 cm, Zack figured the best shooting template for him was none other than Kevin Durant—the future scoring machine known as the *Grim Reaper* in basketball circles.
Zack knew Durant's shooting form had one massive advantage: it didn't need much space to pull up for a jumper.
So, after carefully mapping out his future plans, Zack finished his notebook summary, picked up the basketball, and started practicing—breaking down Durant's shooting mechanics step by step while recalling every detail.
Acting on his ideas right away was always one of Zack's strong suits.
But after a few minutes of practice, he suddenly froze in place.
Because in his mind, he heard it again—the AI-like prompt from the system!
"**Hidden Task: Thunder Crescent Slash** has been triggered.
After careful consideration, you've clearly made plans for your future.
But changing your shooting form is no easy feat. It'll require far more effort and sweat than most could imagine.
**Task Completion Condition**: Master the new shooting form you've designed. (Successfully hit at least 50 shots with your new form in official games.)
**Task Completion Reward**: Thunder Crescent Slash Badge.
**Note**: This badge's effects will apply even before the system is fully activated."
Hidden task? *Thunder Crescent Slash*?
In that moment, Zack wasn't dumbfounded because the task came out of nowhere.
No, it was because the name of this task felt… a bit *extra*.
In his previous life, *Thunder Crescent Slash* was the nickname fans gave to Kevin Durant's shooting form.
It wasn't just because Durant played for the Thunder early in his career—it was also because his shots were swift and explosive, like a bolt of lightning.
"Once Durant enters the league, he's not gonna feel like he's living in my shadow, right?" Zack couldn't help but snark to himself.
But after a bit of mental teasing, he laughed it off. "I'm still a million miles from the NBA. Why am I even thinking about this?"
On the court, Zack quickly shook it off and dove right back into practicing his new shooting form.
But maybe because he was so focused, he didn't notice a pair of eyes quietly watching him for quite a while.
It wasn't until his arms were so tired he could barely lift them that he finally spotted the owner of those eyes.
And then, Zack froze.
The person, after a moment of shock followed by surprise, spoke up: "Are you *really* Zack?"
…
*(Chapter End)*