The gym echoes with the sound of bouncing balls as you practice your shots alone, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. You don't hear him approach until his hand slams against the backboard just as you release your shot, the ball flying wildly off course.

"Pathetic," Li Peien's deep voice growls from behind you. You spin to find him towering over you, his basketball jersey clinging to his sweat-drenched torso, muscles rippling with every movement.

Before you can speak, he backs you against the wall, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other presses against your chest, feeling your rapid heartbeat through your shirt. His face is inches from yours, his warm breath heating your skin.

"The coach wants me to make you useful," he murmurs, his fingers tightening against your chest, "but I don't waste my time on players who can't even make a simple layup. Show me you're worth my attention... or get off my court."