NBA: GIANT KILLING

"We can't keep playing like this—if we lose focus again, we're done!"

The Georgia Tech coach's voice thundered across the huddle, his frustration palpable. His players, drenched in sweat, listened with grim expressions. No one had expected the game to spiral into chaos so soon after halftime.

No, chaos wasn't the right word.

Bizarre.

That was the only way to describe what was happening on the court.

Oliver's raw athleticism alone was a nightmare to deal with, but what truly unsettled them was his ability to see the game differently. It was as if he could read the floor a split second ahead of everyone else, exploiting gaps before they even opened. The bigger players found themselves wondering:

Does being short somehow make it easier to spot weaknesses?

Of course not.

Every short player they had faced before had been a defensive liability, an easy mismatch.

But Oliver?

He was something else entirely.

The Georgia Tech coach continued barking orders, but deep down, he knew—his players weren't slacking off. The opponent was simply impossible to contain.

Oliver had unleashed something terrifying at the start of the second half. His movements, his precision, his relentlessness—it all pointed to one thing.

He had been holding back until now.

Fast. Strong. Skilled. Elite-level court vision. Players like him didn't just show up in college basketball—they were scouted early, groomed for the NBA.

For a brief, absurd moment, the Georgia Tech coach thought, Why isn't this kid on my team?

But he shook off the thought. There was no time for regrets.

This timeout wasn't for strategy—it was for survival. They needed to stop the momentum before it crushed them entirely.

Across the court, Aina University's coach, Boeheim, gave Oliver a knowing smirk. "I didn't expect you to be this locked in! Mo, you never fail to surprise me!" There were no major tactical changes on Aina's side—no need. Oliver was the system. His adaptability and intelligence made rigid strategies unnecessary. As long as his teammates could keep up, the game belonged to him.

Georgia Tech, however, had made their adjustments. Their small forward, Harris, was now assigned to Oliver, using his height and length to disrupt passing lanes. Meanwhile, their primary ball-handler shifted to focus solely on controlling the offense. A solid plan.

But once again, they had underestimated Oliver.

This was no longer a game of conservation. He had flipped the switch—his intensity was at maximum.

The first possession after the timeout, Georgia Tech scored.

But then—

Oliver got the ball.

And the arena held its breath.

Three rapid crossovers sent Harris stumbling, and just as Oliver reached the three-point line—

Swish!

A perfect shot.

He hadn't missed a single three-pointer all game.

The Georgia Tech coach felt a sinking dread settle in his chest.

There's no weakness to exploit.

With some players, you could sag off their shot. Others, you could pressure into turnovers. Some struggled with stamina.

But Oliver?

Every time he touched the ball, something happened.

Every. Single. Time.

Five minutes passed.

The score tightened. 75-81.

In those five minutes, Oliver had orchestrated a masterclass in basketball—scoring, pacing, passing, and defending. The gap had shrunk from sixteen points to six.

The crowd was no longer just watching. They were witnessing.

"He's officially entered his Giant Killing Mode!" shouted sports journalist Tony, excitement crackling in his voice. It was a phrase he had just coined on the spot. Giant Killing—the moment Oliver took complete control of the game, turning his supposed weakness into his own personal strength making the court into his playground. Just as David once did in the children stories, Oliver's making everyone his Goliath.

Tony's cameraman chuckled. "Great, more highlight material!"

"Haha, following Oliver is like striking gold—this magical little kid never runs out of newsworthy moments!"

Ever since Tony had discovered Oliver, he had been obsessed. He knew—if he followed Oliver's career, reported on every step, he could cement himself as FOX Sports' top journalist. After all, this was just the beginning.

Oliver was a freshman.

A freshman doing this.

His ceiling? Boundless.

Even sports journalist David, who had doubted Oliver before, found himself gripping his notepad tightly.

"This short point guard guy is out of his mind!"

Every time Georgia Tech tried to settle down, Oliver would ignite another play. He wasn't just attacking—he was dismantling them.

The Georgia Tech coach had no choice.

Timeout.

Five minutes into the second half, and he had already burned two of his long timeouts.

His players blinked in confusion.

Another timeout? Already?

But the coach knew better.

If they didn't slow the game now, Aina University would not only catch up—

They would take the lead.

And that?

That would be a death sentence.

He took a deep breath, forcing a calm expression. "Listen, guys. Nobody wants their season to end here, right?"

His strategy had been to smother Oliver.

But it wasn't enough.

They couldn't ignore the rest of Aina's players. Even if they stopped Oliver from scoring, his passing was equally deadly. This new plan would push their stamina to the limit. But there was no other choice.

This was March Madness.

Win or go home.

There was no in-between.

At that moment, Chris Bosh stood up. The future NBA star clenched his fists, eyes burning with determination. "I'll keep an eye on those open spaces," he declared. "We're not losing this game."

And with those words, Georgia Tech's fighting spirit reignited. Oliver might have thrown them into disarray.

But they were not going down without a fight.

The battle was far from over.