Fergus had possessed six thousand Hooper Coins for almost three weeks before finally deciding to spend them.
Considering how excited he had been when the System first introduced the Shop, that amount of restraint surprised even him.
His original balance of one thousand coins had been nowhere near enough to purchase most useful skills, but the five thousand awarded for recording his first recognised competitive victory had changed that.
For the first time, Fergus possessed enough System currency to purchase a skill without satisfying its natural requirements through the Skill Library, and during the first few days after receiving the reward he had spent far too much time browsing through everything he could afford.
The temptation to buy something immediately had been enormous, but the prices elsewhere in the Shop made Fergus cautious.
Six thousand Hooper Coins felt like a fortune until he compared it with the fifteen thousand generally required for Green skills or the fifty thousand attached to the Yellow version of The Cookie Thief.
More importantly, he had no reliable way of knowing when his next substantial reward would arrive.
Hooper Coins couldn’t be bought with ordinary money, and the System awarded them only through basketball achievements, milestones, missions and other accomplishments that Fergus couldn’t necessarily predict.
Waiting also gave him something more valuable than additional coins.
It gave him time to understand what he actually needed.
Two weeks of training with Wallace Memorial had exposed weaknesses that were much harder to recognise while practising alone.
His playmaking was underdeveloped, something made painfully obvious whenever he trained beside Arthur, and his ball control remained basic despite the gradual improvements coming from Tight Handles.
Those problems mattered, but neither had attracted as much attention from Coach McKenzie as his shooting.
Fergus’s jumper was unreliable.
Some days were better than others, and there were stretches during practice where he could make several open attempts, but there was very little consistency behind the results.
McKenzie had pointed out during the first team session that Fergus pushed the basketball whenever he moved beyond comfortable range, yet that wasn’t the only problem.
His elbow sometimes drifted outward, the position of the ball before his shooting motion varied between attempts, and his balance changed depending on how he caught the pass.
Even when two consecutive shots went in, Fergus wasn’t always producing them with identical mechanics.
That made improvement difficult.
On Wednesday evening, after finishing his homework, Fergus sat on the edge of his bed and opened the System Shop.
He had spent the previous few days repeatedly returning to the same skill, and this time he already knew what he intended to purchase.
‘Form Shooter’ ‘Tier: Grey – Basic Understanding’ ‘Price: 6,000 Hooper Coins.’ Exactly his entire balance.
Fergus focused on the card and brought up its full description.
‘Consistent shooting begins with consistent mechanics.
‘Form Shooter develops the host’s understanding of maintaining repeatable shooting form during standard jump-shot attempts.
Training focuses on stance, balance, hand positioning, shooting-pocket consistency, elbow alignment, release mechanics and follow-through.’ ‘Form Shooter does not guarantee shooting accuracy, increase shooting range or provide proficiency when shooting off movement or under defensive pressure.
The skill establishes a mechanical foundation upon which additional shooting development may be built.’ Fergus had read the description enough times over the previous week that there was almost nothing left to consider.
At first, Form Shooter had seemed disappointing.
Six thousand Hooper Coins was everything he possessed, yet the skill explicitly refused to promise the thing Fergus actually wanted from shooting practice.
It wouldn’t make shots go in.
There was something almost insulting about spending every Hooper Coin he owned on a shooting skill that didn’t guarantee accuracy, but Fergus understood the distinction much better after two weeks under McKenzie.
His problem wasn’t simply that he missed shots.
Everyone missed shots, including Arthur, Finn and Jaime.
The difference was that when Finn missed an open jumper from the corner, his next attempt usually looked almost identical.
His feet settled in roughly the same position, the ball travelled through the same shooting path, and his follow-through remained recognisable regardless of the result.
Fergus could miss two consecutive shots for completely different reasons.
He leaned backwards on the bed and considered the price one final time.
There was no urgency forcing him to make the purchase tonight, and another milestone might eventually give him enough Hooper Coins that spending six thousand wouldn’t empty his balance completely.
On the other hand, waiting for some unknown future reward wouldn’t solve the weakness McKenzie had already identified.
Wallace Memorial’s first game was approaching.
Fergus knew where he currently stood within the team.
Arthur, Finn, Jaime, William and Merrick had established themselves as the starting five, while Fergus was fighting for reserve minutes by defending hard, maintaining his conditioning and finishing simple opportunities near the basket.
He didn’t need to become a great shooter before the season began, but training had already demonstrated what happened when defenders realised they didn’t respect his jumper.
Jaime simply backed away from him.
Other teams would eventually do the same.
Fergus looked at Form Shooter again.
“Does Basic Understanding actually increase my shooting percentage?” ‘No.
Form Shooter does not directly modify shooting accuracy.
Basic Understanding improves the host’s comprehension of repeatable shooting mechanics and assists the host in identifying deviations from established form.
Improved shooting performance must be developed through appropriate training and practical application.’ Fergus had expected the answer, but hearing it still made six thousand coins feel expensive.
“What happens if I’m too far away to shoot normally?” ‘Form Shooter does not provide additional physical strength or shooting range.
Attempts beyond the host’s comfortable range may require mechanical compensation and reduce the effectiveness of consistent form.’ That made sense.
McKenzie had already identified exactly that problem when Fergus tried to generate additional distance by pushing with his upper body.
Fergus considered asking several more questions before deciding he was only delaying the inevitable.
Form Shooter wasn’t going to turn him into a good shooter, but that was probably why it was only a Grey skill.
Like the basic finishing taught by Mikan Maestro or the simple ball control provided by Tight Handles, it represented the beginning of a much larger area of development.
“Buy it.” The Shop changed immediately.
‘Form Shooter – Grey Tier purchased for 6,000 Hooper Coins.’ ‘Remaining Balance: 0 Hooper Coins.’ Fergus stared at the zero for several seconds and grimaced.
“That hurts.” The System offered no sympathy.
Form Shooter was added to his Player Skills, but Fergus didn’t bother opening the entire menu to admire it.
Owning the skill meant very little if he didn’t actually use what it taught him, and with no basketball hoop at home, the most useful thing he could do that evening was begin understanding the mechanics.
He took his basketball into the driveway beneath the outside light and started slowly.
The first thing Form Shooter made him recognise was how many small decisions he had previously treated as irrelevant.
Fergus knew the basic principles of shooting because he had watched enough basketball tutorials and spent enough hours trying to imitate professional players, but knowing that a shooter needed balance and a consistent release wasn’t the same as understanding what those things meant for his own body.
His stance was a good example.
Fergus hadn’t realised how much it changed from attempt to attempt until the new skill directed his attention towards it.
Sometimes his shooting foot sat slightly ahead, while on other attempts both feet were almost perfectly level.
Neither position was necessarily wrong by itself, but switching between them without any reason meant Fergus wasn’t beginning each shot from the same foundation.
He adjusted until he found a position that felt comfortable and began repeating the motion without releasing the basketball.
His shooting pocket presented another problem.
Fergus sometimes brought the ball too close towards the centre of his face before shifting it during the release, adding unnecessary movement to something that should have been repeatable.
When he slowed everything down, he could feel the difference between the awkward path he had unconsciously developed and the cleaner movement Form Shooter was trying to teach him.
It felt strange.
That was probably inevitable.
A movement Fergus had repeated hundreds of times incorrectly wasn’t going to become natural simply because he now understood a better way to perform it.
For the next fifteen minutes, he worked through the shooting motion without a basket, paying attention to his balance, the path of the ball and the position of his shooting arm.
A Star’s Work Ethic complemented the new skill particularly well because Fergus could understand the corrections Form Shooter presented and gradually absorb them through purposeful repetition, but neither skill allowed him to skip the repetition itself.
Angus eventually appeared at the doorway wearing his pyjamas and watched Fergus perform several slow shooting motions without releasing the basketball.
“What are you doing?” “Working on my shooting.” Angus looked towards the empty driveway before turning back to him.
“There’s no hoop.” “I noticed.” “Then how are you shooting?” “I’m practising the movement.” Angus continued staring for several seconds, apparently deciding whether that explanation made Fergus more or less ridiculous.
“You look stupid.” “Thanks, Angus.” “You’re welcome.” His younger brother disappeared back inside, leaving Fergus to continue until Diane called him in.
The real test came the following afternoon at the public court.
Fergus deliberately started closer to the basket than he normally would have.
His first instinct whenever practising his jumper had always been to move farther away as quickly as possible, partly because long shots were more satisfying and partly because nearly every guard he admired could shoot from well beyond the arc.
Form Shooter made him recognise how pointless that approach was when he couldn’t maintain the same mechanics at those distances.
His first jumper missed short.
The second struck the right side of the rim.
The third dropped cleanly through.
Three attempts with only one make was hardly evidence that six thousand Hooper Coins had been well spent, but Fergus began noticing the difference as he continued.
Form Shooter didn’t tell him where every miss would go or automatically correct his body.
Instead, it gave him a much clearer understanding of whether the shot he had just taken matched the mechanics he was trying to establish.
When Fergus leaned backwards during one attempt, he recognised the problem almost immediately.
On another, his elbow drifted outward and altered the release.
Rather than mindlessly collecting the rebound and shooting again, Fergus stopped long enough to understand what had changed before attempting to reproduce the correct movement.
That was the value of consistency.
If his form remained relatively stable, a missed shot became useful information rather than just a miss.
Fergus remained in the same area for much longer than he normally would have, resisting the temptation to retreat towards the three-point line whenever he made several shots in succession.
Some attempts dropped through cleanly, others struck the rim, and a few missed badly enough to remind him that Form Shooter wasn’t secretly providing accuracy despite what the description said.
After twenty minutes, he was still nowhere near Finn’s level.
His shots were simply beginning to look more like one another.
Fergus eventually moved another step away from the basket and immediately discovered why the System had warned him about range.
His first attempt fell short, and on the second he unconsciously pushed his shoulder forward to generate additional force.
The ball reached the rim, but the mechanical change was obvious enough that Fergus stopped before taking another shot.
Previously, he might have remained there and kept shooting until he figured out some way to reach the basket.
Instead, Fergus stepped closer.
There was little value in practising bad mechanics simply so he could pretend his range was greater than it actually was.
Strength would come as he grew, and additional shooting skills might eventually teach him how to extend his effective range without destroying his form.
For now, his job was considerably simpler.
Learn to repeat the same shot.
Near the end of the session, Fergus opened the Skill Library and searched for shooting abilities connected to Form Shooter.
The enormous collection shifted around him, revealing numerous locked cards covering areas such as catch-and-shoot preparation, free throws, shooting from greater distance and eventually movement shooting.
Several required Form Shooter to reach higher levels before their natural unlock requirements could even be attempted.
Fergus didn’t spend long studying them.
Seeing the connections was enough to confirm what he had begun to suspect.
Form Shooter wasn’t meant to make him a shooter by itself.
It was a foundational skill, something he needed before more specialised shooting techniques would become worthwhile.
Learning to fire accurately off movement or extend his range would mean very little if the basic mechanics beneath those shots changed every time he released the ball.
When Fergus checked his balance again, the sight of zero Hooper Coins still hurt slightly.
He had no idea when the next mission, milestone or achievement would provide more, and spending everything on a skill that didn’t immediately improve his shooting percentage remained a difficult decision to feel excited about.
Yet as he returned to the same comfortable position and prepared for another repetition, Fergus found that he didn’t regret it.
His first shot struck the rim and bounced away.
Fergus retrieved it, returned to the same spot and settled himself again.
His feet found the position he had been practising, his balance remained centred, and the basketball travelled through the cleaner path he had spent the previous evening learning.
The second attempt dropped through.
Fergus collected the rebound and prepared to shoot again, not because the make itself proved anything, but because for the first time he felt as though he understood how to reproduce the shot that had created it.
Accuracy could come later.
First, Fergus needed something consistent enough to improve.