Grade C Skill: Time-Space Lord.
[Time-Space Lord (Kyle Anderson): The Slow-Step Layup. Greatly increases the chance of disrupting a defender's rhythm. By the time the defender has already jumped to block the shot, your first step isn't even finished...]
Kyle Anderson, a player whose facial expressions were so deadpan they earned him the nickname "Slo-Mo" (and "Human Wiggle Essence"), was legendary for one specific trait: being slow.
His dribbling wasn't fast, and his sprinting wasn't explosive. However, he possessed a unique cadence—it was like a temporal field from a fantasy novel. Once a defender entered his "domain," their internal clock was forcibly reset.
While superstars like Wade, Kobe, and LeBron relied on lightning speed to finish at the rim, Anderson took the opposite path. He slowed down. His "slow-motion" three-step layup was a nightmare for NBA players who were conditioned to defend players moving at 100 mph.
If a normal NBA player moved at 1.0x speed and Iverson moved at 1.25x, Anderson was a glitchy 0.75x. Fast is hard to guard, but being that slow? It was even harder.
Luke stared at the skill for a long time before making his decision. "I'll take it."
He spent 5,000 skill points to learn the Grade C skill. He was starting to realize that high-grade skills weren't always the most useful; sometimes, a niche, low-level skill was exactly what he needed at this stage to round out his game.
For the next dozen days, Luke remained in the D.C. gym, grinding like a man possessed. Idan Ravin had already left for another training gig, but seeing Luke's obsession with the craft, he had simply handed Luke the keys to the facility.
With Anthony gone, the 80x multiplier vanished, but the 20x "Nightclub" bonus was still active. By the time the draft neared, Luke had banked another 2,000 points. After the deduction for [Time-Space Lord], he had a balance of 8,000 skill points.
On June 23rd, Luke left Washington and flew to New York. The draft was set for June 25th—the busiest time of year for GMs and agents. GMs were scouting fits and sniffing out rival intentions, while agents were desperately trying to climb the draft boards.
The players were the most anxious of all. Until their name was called, anything could happen.
Steph, who had arrived in New York earlier, was waiting at the airport to pick Luke up. As they sat in the car, Luke curiously looked around the interior and spotted a small photo pendant hanging from the rearview mirror. It was a miniature picture of Ayesha.
Luke had assumed Steph just rented a car, but the pendant gave it away.
"You bought a car?" Luke asked.
"Yeah. I sold the one I had at Davidson and picked this up a couple of days ago," Steph replied.
The American used-car market was massive, and most college kids drove vehicles that had seen three or four owners. Steph's previous car was a beat-up used one, but this one looked brand new.
"Is it new?" Luke pressed.
Steph grinned, looking like a kid on Christmas. "Yep! I borrowed the money from my dad. I'll pay him back once I sign my contract. What do you think? Nice, right? Cost me a pretty penny."
Luke hesitated. "The car... is great. But... don't you think... you bought it a bit too early?"
Steph gave him a strange look. "Early? Not really. The draft is in two days. In forty-eight hours, I'll be a member of the New York Knicks!"
"I'm actually debating whether I should buy a house or just rent," Steph continued, oblivious. "The Knicks are great, but New York real estate is insane. I'm not sure my rookie contract can afford a place I actually like."
Luke stared at him. Talk about supreme confidence.
Right now, everyone—Steph, the Knicks' front office, and every mock draft expert—was convinced that Steph Curry was going to the Knicks at No. 8.
But Luke knew history. Don Nelson and the Golden State Warriors were the ultimate spoilers.
In the original timeline, when David Stern announced that the Warriors had snatched Curry at No. 7, Steph looked like he was about to cry. Mike D'Antoni likely wanted to punch a wall, as he had pegged Steph to be the savior of his system after leaving Phoenix.
The New York fans had erupted in a chorus of boos when they realized they'd been jumped. History eventually proved that missing out on Steph was the beginning of a long, dark era for the Knicks. Even when Melo joined later, the franchise remained largely dysfunctional.
As the car crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, Luke looked out at the Statue of Liberty in the distance. A sudden, daring thought flashed through his mind.
If I change the course of history... if Steph actually ends up in New York... would that make things more interesting?
"Steph," Luke said, his voice dropping an octave. "What if someone jumps the Knicks and takes you before the eighth pick?"
"No way," Steph laughed, gripping the steering wheel. "My agent said the teams ahead of them are set. Don't worry, man. New York is the plan."
Luke leaned back against the headrest, a small smile playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."