It was Barnes' defensive foul just now, so the Pacers would inbound the ball from the sideline.
Yuki stood at two meters tall, a swingman capable of playing both small forward and shooting guard. At the moment, he was replacing Harrison Barnes at small forward, meaning his direct matchup was the Pacers' wing player.
In 2015, the Indiana Pacers had one of the league's top small forwards—Paul George. However, during this period, Paul George had suffered the most severe injury of his career and was ruled out for the season. Without their biggest star, the Pacers' record had taken a sharp decline, leaving them hovering around tenth place in the Eastern Conference.
This was clearly not a strong team—certainly not when compared to the Warriors at this stage.
That season, the Warriors had established a brand-new lineup. After forming the famous "Death Lineup", their record surged forward, and they currently ranked first in the entire league. As history would later prove, the Warriors would finish the season with a 67–15 record, cruise into the playoffs, and ultimately lift the championship trophy.
There was a massive gap in strength between the two teams. Yet, in this game, the Warriors were struggling.
Curry was taking turns resting, and aside from Thompson, the entire team seemed off rhythm. Meanwhile, the Pacers' backup guard Rodney Stuckey had exploded. He had already scored 25 points in three quarters, shooting 9-of-12 from the field for an incredible 75% efficiency. Neither Thompson, Iguodala, nor Barnes had been able to stop him.
Now, the game had entered the fourth quarter, with about eight minutes remaining. The score stood at 85–94, with the Warriors trailing by nine points.
There was still plenty of time. A nine-point deficit wasn't much for a team with the Warriors' offensive firepower. If they found their rhythm, a comeback was entirely possible.
Pacers center Roy Hibbert inbounded the ball from the baseline to point guard George Hill, who quickly passed it to Stuckey.
As a shooting guard, Stuckey should have been guarded by Klay Thompson. However, with Curry resting, Thompson—now the team's primary offensive option—couldn't afford to expend too much energy on defense. As a result, the responsibility of guarding Stuckey fell to the small forward.
Previously, that role belonged to Barnes—and Stuckey had torched him for 25 points in three quarters.
Now, Yuki stepped onto the court as the backup small forward, naturally lining up against Stuckey.
Holding the ball at the 45-degree angle, Stuckey glanced at the slightly taller, Asian-faced player in front of him.
"Who is this guy? I don't remember him…"
Though Stuckey was only a backup guard, he had spent eight seasons in the league and once averaged 16.6 points and 4.8 assists per game at his peak. He was familiar with nearly every player and their tendencies.
Yet he had no memory of Yuki sota.
"Probably just some bench guy," Stuckey thought dismissively.
He was on fire tonight. Even Barnes, Iguodala, and other elite defenders hadn't been able to stop him. Why would he care about an unknown rookie?
After nine seasons, Stuckey's form had declined. This was his worst statistical season since his rookie year, and his role on the team had diminished significantly. Now that he finally had a hot hand, he was determined to score as much as possible to prove his worth.
With a rookie standing in front of him, how could he miss such an opportunity?
Without hesitation, Stuckey dribbled slowly, then suddenly exploded to his right, forcing a drive past Yuki.
As a guard whose game revolved around penetration, Stuckey's speed and explosiveness were exceptional. His first step was lightning-fast.
Barnes had barely been able to keep up earlier. Even Iguodala in his prime would have been beaten in a single step.
However, what Stuckey didn't expect was that the moment he moved, Yuki slid laterally, perfectly cutting off his driving lane.
"So fast!"
Stuckey was shocked. This guy moved even faster than Barnes!
Caught off guard, Stuckey had no time to react and crashed directly into Yuki.
Only then did he realize—Yuki's strength was far greater than expected.
The collision felt like hitting a wall. His balance was completely disrupted, and he nearly fell to the floor.
Whistle!
The referee immediately blew the play dead and signaled a blocking foul on Yuki.
"I swear…"
Yuki felt both helpless and surprised.
"Is the system's stat boost really this effective?"
After inheriting the memories and body of his alternate self, Yuki had near-instinctive control over his movements. He knew very well that his original body had been nowhere near this fast or strong.
If this were before, he would have been blown by instantly.
"Be careful—one more step and you'll foul him!"
On the sideline, head coach Steve Kerr watched with his arms crossed, slightly taken aback.
As the head coach, he knew every player on the roster—especially Yuki, the player from Japan. Aside from decent mid-range and three-point shooting, Yuki sota had always been lacking in other areas.
Weak offense. Weak defense. A thin frame. Poor physicality. He often struggled to even catch the ball under pressure.
Yet just now, Yuki had won a physical confrontation against a much stronger opponent.
"That must have been luck," Kerr thought.
"He probably predicted the drive, and the opponent lost balance."
With that conclusion, Kerr didn't dwell on it.
The Pacers inbounded the ball again, and it quickly returned to Stuckey's hands.
Though the whistle favored him, Stuckey knew that Yuki had stayed in front of him on that drive.
For a veteran, that was humiliating.
"This guy must be some dead rookie who's barely played. If I can't beat him, how am I supposed to survive in this league?"
Stuckey dribbled at the top of the arc, locking eyes with yuki—his intent
unmistakable.
Seeing that gaze, Yuki smiled instead.
Perfect.
He had been worried about not getting a chance to show himself.
This guy… does he want to touch me again?