My Basketball System!

It had been the craziest six hours since he'd woken up on that bench, with confusion as the dominant feeling in his mind. Yet, Jaxon was beginning to grasp the reality of his situation. Somehow, his consciousness had ended up in someone else's body—and not just anyone's, but that of a professional basketball player. He couldn't recall much of his life before waking on the bench, but he sensed there was more to this whole thing than met the eye.

---

Jaxon stepped off the team bus and onto the pavement, feeling the steady night breeze and inhaling the mingled scents of dirt and exhaust fumes that assaulted his nostrils. The bus engine hummed impatiently behind him, and he dropped down completely to let the driver pull away.

"Good game, Jax! Show up for training tomorrow!" someone yelled from inside the bus, though he couldn't recognize the voice. With a low rumble, the bus zoomed off into the night.

Before him stood an apartment complex, four stories high, its modern yet modest design catching his attention. The exterior was a blend of beige stucco and stone accents, giving it a warm, neutral look that felt inviting without being flashy. Each apartment had a small balcony with simple black railings; a few were decorated with potted plants and outdoor seating, hinting at a friendly community atmosphere. The entryway was framed with brushed metal fixtures and a glass door that showed signs of frequent use but was kept clean. Around the complex, neatly trimmed bushes and flower beds added to the warm environment.

Taking a deep breath, he headed into the entrance. Immediately, a distinct aroma hit him—a strong scent of cactus.

Instinctively, he raised his sleeve to his nose to block out the smell, almost gagging at its tackiness. A man sitting at the lobby counter locked eyes with him and smiled knowingly at his reaction.

"Evening, Mr. Jaxon," the man greeted, still smiling. "I must say, sir, you act like you've never smelled cactus before every time you walk into the lobby."

Jaxon stopped, unsure how to respond. He didn't even know who the man was. "Good evening," he managed, and an awkward silence followed. Quickly, he glanced toward the elevator and began walking toward it to escape the conversation.

"Oh, sir, you forgot your apartment key. You usually ask me to keep it for you since you keep losing it, remember?" the man at the counter called out, extending a key card in his hand.

Jaxon spun around, grabbed the card, and darted toward the elevator without another word.

This was someone else's life.

And he was living it…

The elevator ride was quiet, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. Suddenly, the holographic interface appeared before him once again.

[NAME: JAXON LIN

AGE: 22

HEIGHT: 189 cm

LEVEL: ROOKIE (1/100)

SKILLS: NONE]

"Is that all?" he muttered angrily, frustration building in his mind. The screen stayed steady, no changes appearing. "Come on! That can't be it!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the confined elevator. The elevator jolted to a stop, and the doors opened to let two more people enter.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. That's when he noticed a faintly glowing icon beneath the interface labeled [MORE].

"More," he whispered quietly.

"What? Did you say something?" one of the new passengers asked immediately.

"No, sir," Jaxon replied, nodding quickly.

The interface shifted, expanding to display additional details.

**[PERSONAL INFORMATION:

*NAME: JAXON LIN

*AGE: 22

PHYSICAL INFORMATION:

*WEIGHT: 79 KG / 174 LBS

*HEIGHT: 189 CM / 6'2"

*BODY FAT PERCENTAGE: 18%

*MUSCLE MASS PERCENTAGE: 32%

*STRENGTH: 2/10

*STAMINA: 1/10

*ENDURANCE: 1/10

*AGILITY: 1/10

*GAME IQ: 90

PERSONAL STATS:

*NICKNAME: LAZY LIN

*STATUS: CONTRACT ON PROBATION

*EARNINGS: $20,000

*TEAM: NEON DRAGONS

*GAMES WON: 1

*TOTAL POINTS SCORED IN FIELD: 3

OTHER STATS: LOCKED

THESE STATS WERE TAKEN FROM THE MOMENT OF MERGING WITH HOST AND NOT FROM PREVIOUS RECORDINGS.]**

"So… Lazy Lin, huh?" Jaxon chuckled to himself as he walked out of the elevator and toward apartment number 11. He swiped his key card, drifting through the door as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

On entering the apartment, he instantly grasped the kind of life the original owner of this body had led. The room was a complete disaster, as if a wild party had taken place the night before and nobody had bothered to clean up. Red wine cups were scattered everywhere, and the furniture was in disarray. The balcony door was wide open, and empty wine bottles were tossed around carelessly throughout the apartment. When he glanced at the pictures hanging on the walls of the living room, he wasn't the least bit surprised to see images of half-naked models in bikinis posing provocatively with their backsides aimed at the camera.

"He was definitely a party freak," he thought to himself, picking up the TV remote from the couch. He used it to lift a bra that was draped over the TV stand. Slowly, he made his way around the apartment until he came across a room that seemed to be the bedroom. Unlike the rest of the apartment, this room was surprisingly clean and well-organized. The bed was neatly made, and there were no party cups or confetti littering the floor. Curious, he walked over to the washroom at the far end of the bedroom, and, just as he suspected, it was spotless too.

"So, he never slept in his own room? How stupid," he thought, turning on the faucet to fill the bathtub. He ran his fingers through the running water, and a small smile appeared on his face when he felt its warmth. He had never experienced a warm bath before, having grown up poor, with his single parent struggling to make ends meet.

Stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the tub the moment it was half-full and let out a deep sigh of relief as he eased himself into the soothing water.

He closed his eyes. Finally, he had a moment to himself to process everything that had happened so far.

Then, a sudden thought jolted him, and he snapped his eyes open. "My dad!" he exclaimed.

He could vividly picture his father in his mind's eye—powerful and agile, commanding the basketball court with ease. As a child, he had watched in awe, captivated by the fierce determination burning in his father's eyes and the fluid grace with which he moved. Basketball was more than just a sport to his dad; it was his passion, his purpose. But that was before the accident—the one that had torn their world apart.

It had happened on a stormy night, the car skidding off the slick road, crashing violently into an unforgiving tree. The impact had claimed his mother's life in an instant. His father had survived, but the cost was life changing. The collision left him with a debilitating injury that crushed not only his body but his dreams. His once-strong legs, which had once propelled him while playing basketball, were left broken and beyond repair. Now, he relied on a cane to walk, each step a painful reminder of the life he could no longer live.

Unable to return to the court, his father had turned to shoemaking. His days were spent bent over worn soles and fraying laces, his hands growing rough and calloused from the relentless demands of the trade. Despite the toll it took on him, he worked tirelessly, determined to make ends meet for him and his son. Yet, the fire in his soul seemed to fade with each passing day.

He had watched his father play for the Metro Wolves as a child, and it was that very team that had sparked his love for basketball. His dream was simple—to one day play in the Supreme Basketball League, wearing the colors of his father's team. But that dream had seemed out of reach because of their financial status. He couldn't afford to enroll in the Metro Wolves' academy for young players, and so, year after year, all he could do was watch from the sidelines.

But now, he was in this body. Though he wasn't in the best physical shape, he had been given a second chance—a chance to fulfill the dream his father had once held, but could no longer pursue. A chance to become the greatest basketball player ever.

He let out a deep groan, frustration sinking in. "Huh! Dad must be worried sick about me right now…"

The holographic screen flickered to life before him, its sudden appearance no longer startling. He had been half-expecting it.

[REVIEW USER HISTORY]

[YES OR NO]

"Yes," he muttered, and the screen responded, displaying details about the life of the person whose body he now inhabited.

[JAXON LIN, ALSO KNOWN AS 'LAZY LIN', GREW UP IN THE NEIGHBORHOODS OF METRO CITY. COMING FROM A MIDDLE-CLASS FAMILY, HE FELL IN LOVE WITH BASKETBALL AT A YOUNG AGE, PLAYING EVERY DAY WITH HIS BEST FRIEND, LUCA ANDERSON. BOTH HAD DREAMED OF JOINING THE METRO WOLVES ACADEMY TEAM, TRAINING TO ONE DAY BECOME PROFESSIONAL PLAYERS. BUT WHILE LUCA HAD MORE NATURAL TALENT AND WAS DRAFTED INTO THE PROFESSIONAL LEAGUES, JAXON WAS LEFT BEHIND, DEEMED 'NOT GOOD ENOUGH.' UNDETERRED, JAXON MOVED TO A NEW CITY TO PURSUE HIS DREAM OF BECOMING A PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER. AFTER IMPRESSING IN THE PRELIMINARY TRIALS, HE SECURED A PROVISIONAL CONTRACT WITH THE NEON DRAGONS. HIS SUCCESS IN THE PRESEASON EARNED HIM A PROFESSIONAL CONTRACT WITH A LUXURIOUS PAY PACKAGE. BUT THIS NEWFOUND LIFESTYLE BEGAN TO TAKE A TOLL ON HIM—NIGHT PARTIES AND DRINKING BECAME HIS HABIT, EARNING HIM THE NICKNAME 'LAZY LIN.' ALL THE WHILE, LUCA ANDERSON WAS RISING THROUGH THE RANKS IN THE BASKETBALL WORLD.]

"Huh!" He groaned with visible disgust and discontentment as he sinked deeper into the tub. "Fucking party freak".