Another world Game Developers in Japan`s 1991

Zaboru's House, Los Angeles.

After the long drive back from ZAGE Campus, Zaboru finally arrived at his house in Los Angeles.

The moment he entered, he removed his jacket, loosened his shirt slightly, and dropped himself onto the sofa.

"Ahh… finally."

Before leaving Silicon Valley, Zaboru had bought several boxes of Chinese takeaway food for the journey home. He placed them on the table and immediately began eating fried rice, sweet-and-sour chicken, roasted pork, and several dumplings.

Authentic or not, he was hungry enough to appreciate everything.

He had barely finished half of the first box when the doorbell rang.

Zaboru looked toward the entrance.

"That must be Jackie."

He stood and opened the door.

Jackie Chan stood outside wearing casual clothes and carrying several large food containers in both hands. The moment he noticed the takeaway boxes on Zaboru's table, his expression changed into exaggerated disappointment.

Jackie spoke in Chinese. "You are eating that?"

Zaboru glanced toward the food. "Yes?"

Jackie entered the house and shook his head dramatically. "You are one of the richest men in the world, but you still eat this kind of fake Chinese food?"

Zaboru chuckled. "It tastes good."

"It tastes like somebody heard about China from a neighbour."

Jackie lifted the containers proudly. "I brought wontons, roasted duck, noodles, and proper Chinese food. Eat this instead."

Zaboru accepted the containers without hesitation. "Well, if it is good food, I never say no, Jack."

Jackie grinned. "That is why we are friends."

Over the years, their friendship had grown naturally. Jackie was one of the most energetic and genuinely entertaining people Zaboru knew. Even during an ordinary conversation, he could somehow transform a simple story about missing a train into a full physical-comedy performance involving several chairs and at least one dangerous jump.

However, behind the humour, Jackie also trusted Zaboru deeply.

He had spoken to him many times about his early struggles, injuries, exhausting film productions, pressure from studios, and the difficult balance between chasing ambition and protecting the people around him. Zaboru never treated those conversations like opportunities to gain influence over a famous actor. He simply listened.

That sincerity mattered to Jackie.

The two men sat near the table and began eating the wontons while discussing movies, stunts, and several ridiculous accidents from Jackie's latest production.

Jackie used both hands to demonstrate one failed stunt. "I jumped from the balcony, but the rope moved slightly. Just slightly. Then—bang!"

He slapped the table.

Zaboru nearly dropped his chopsticks. "You hit the wall?"

"No, first I hit the wall. Then I hit the ground."

"That is somehow worse."

Jackie laughed loudly. "But the shot looked good!"

Zaboru shook his head. "One day your explanation for every injury will only be, 'The shot looked good.'"

"It is a good explanation."

After finishing another wonton, Jackie leaned closer and asked in Chinese, "So Michael Jackson is really coming today?"

Zaboru nodded. "He said he would."

Almost immediately, the doorbell rang again.

Jackie looked toward the entrance. "That timing is suspicious."

Zaboru stood. "Maybe he was waiting outside until you asked."

He opened the door, revealing Michael Jackson standing there with a wide smile.

"Yo, folks! Miss me?"

Michael entered cheerfully, wearing a dark jacket, hat, and sunglasses despite the evening already becoming dim. His appearance remained mostly familiar, although several lighter patches had begun appearing across parts of his skin.

Zaboru noticed them.

He said nothing.

Michael had already endured enough scrutiny concerning his appearance from strangers, media outlets, and people who believed they were entitled to examine every part of his body. Zaboru had no desire to add to that pressure.

Their friendship had become extremely close over the years.

Michael respected Zaboru's intelligence, musical instincts, and unusual singing ability. Zaboru had even created "Smooth Criminal" for him, a song Michael still considered one of the greatest gifts he had ever received professionally.

However, their relationship was not built only around music.

Michael trusted Zaboru because Zaboru never approached him for fame, money, or access. He did not treat him like a mysterious celebrity or fragile treasure. When Michael wanted to discuss pressure, loneliness, childhood, family, music, or the strange experience of being recognised everywhere, Zaboru listened seriously.

When Michael wanted to behave like an ordinary idiot with friends, Zaboru allowed that too.

Michael looked toward the table filled with food. "Oh, you already started without me?"

Jackie pointed toward the takeaway boxes. "He was eating fake Chinese food."

Michael looked at Zaboru with exaggerated betrayal. "Zaboru, how could you?"

Zaboru stared at him. "You cannot even tell the difference."

Michael paused. "That is not relevant."

Jackie laughed and handed him a bowl of wontons.

The three men settled into the living room while Zaboru turned on a movie. Jackie naturally criticised several stunt scenes. Michael became distracted by the soundtrack. Zaboru mostly enjoyed watching both of them complain about completely different parts of the same film.

After several minutes, Zaboru casually said, "There will be another guest."

Michael looked toward him. "Who?"

"Michael Jordan."

Both Jackie and Michael Jackson became silent.

Then Michael Jackson's eyes widened. "Wait, you are fighting him again?"

"Playing basketball," Zaboru corrected.

"That is what I said."

Jackie leaned forward with immediate excitement. "One-on-one?"

Zaboru nodded.

Michael clapped his hands. "Whoa! This is going to be a blast!"

Both men had watched Zaboru challenge Michael Jordan during Zenshin's birthday celebration the previous year. Zaboru had lost, but he had pushed Jordan much harder than anyone expected from a businessman who did not play professional basketball.

Since then, both Jackie and Michael had repeatedly asked when the rematch would happen.

The answer came less than half an hour later when another car arrived outside.

Michael Jordan entered the house carrying a basketball under one arm.

He looked toward Jackie and Michael Jackson, both of whom were already standing like excited spectators preparing for a championship fight.

Jordan sighed. "You two look way too happy about this."

Michael Jackson grinned and clapped again. "Of course! This is premium entertainment."

Jackie nodded enthusiastically. "Top-tier stuff."

Jordan looked toward Zaboru. "You invited an audience?"

Zaboru smiled. "They invited themselves emotionally."

"I did not agree to that."

Michael Jackson raised one hand. "Too late."

The four men quickly moved toward the private basketball court beside Zaboru's house. Several lights illuminated the court, while the cool evening air made the conditions comfortable.

Jackie and Michael Jackson took positions near the side of the court, already arguing about who would win.

"Jordan," Jackie said confidently. "Professional player."

Michael Jackson pointed toward Zaboru. "But Zaboru is weird."

Jackie looked at him.

Michael continued, "I mean that positively. He can suddenly do anything."

"That is true."

Jordan bounced the ball several times and looked toward Zaboru. "Ready?"

Zaboru stretched his shoulders and grinned. "You know, Mike… you are not the only one who improved. I have been improving too."

Jordan smiled. "Let's see about that."

They decided to play to twenty points, with the winner needing at least a two-point lead unless the game reached nineteen each. Ordinary baskets counted as one, while shots from beyond the marked line counted as two.

Jordan took the first possession.

Zaboru lowered his stance and guarded him carefully.

The moment the game began, Jordan attacked.

He dribbled hard toward the right, then suddenly shifted the ball across his body with a sharp crossover. Zaboru reacted quickly and stayed close.

Jordan immediately pulled the ball back.

Zaboru expected another drive.

Instead, Jordan stepped backward beyond the line and released the shot.

The ball flew cleanly through the hoop.

Two points.

Jordan grinned. "I studied some of your moves."

Zaboru's eyes widened.

Michael Jackson screamed from the side. "He stole your move!"

Jackie pointed accusingly at Jordan. "Copycat!"

Jordan ignored them. "You are dangerous, Zaboru. I had to learn something."

Zaboru chuckled, but inside, he was genuinely surprised.

Because of his Enlightenment Body and Deep Memory Dive, Zaboru could recreate basketball techniques from multiple future eras. He used Allen Iverson's crossover, Luka Dončić's step-back, Stephen Curry's quick-release three, Kyrie Irving's ball handling, and many other movements that had not yet become common in the current era.

To Zaboru, they were simply cool techniques he remembered.

To Michael Jordan, they were unfamiliar weapons worth studying.

Zaboru stared at him for a moment.

'Well… I might have accidentally created a monster.'

Jordan was already one of the greatest basketball players alive. Giving him techniques from future generations was almost irresponsible.

Zaboru accepted the ball. "All right, Mike. Let's try again."

He attacked immediately.

Zaboru began with a low dribble, shifted the ball behind his back, then accelerated toward the basket. Jordan stayed directly in front of him.

Zaboru spun.

Jordan recovered.

Zaboru stopped suddenly and released a short fadeaway.

The ball went in.

Michael Jackson threw both hands into the air. "Yes!"

Jackie nodded seriously. "Good technique."

Jordan collected the ball. "Lucky shot."

Zaboru smiled. "Of course."

The next possession became more physical.

Jordan drove directly toward the basket, using his shoulder and strength to pressure Zaboru backward. Zaboru held his position, forcing Jordan to change direction.

Jordan turned into a fadeaway.

Zaboru jumped and nearly blocked it.

The ball still fell through the hoop.

Jordan landed and immediately ran backward. "Too slow."

Zaboru laughed. "You barely escaped."

The score continued climbing.

Jordan used strength, balance, timing, and experience. He attacked from the post, drove aggressively, and punished even the smallest defensive mistake. His footwork remained terrifying. Every pivot looked similar until the final moment, making it difficult to predict whether he would spin, fade, drive, or stop suddenly.

Zaboru countered with movements Jordan rarely encountered.

He used quick crossovers, hesitation dribbles, unusual step-backs, and rapid changes of pace. One moment he appeared ready to drive; the next, he had already stopped and released a shot.

Jackie and Michael Jackson reacted loudly to almost every possession.

When Zaboru crossed the ball between his legs twice and made Jordan shift in the wrong direction, Michael Jackson jumped from his seat.

"Oh! He got him!"

Jordan recovered fast enough to contest the shot, but Zaboru still made it.

Jackie clapped. "Beautiful!"

Jordan caught the ball and looked toward the spectators. "Can both of you be quiet?"

"No," Michael answered immediately.

On the next possession, Jordan attacked Zaboru with far more aggression.

He used a hard dribble, leaned into him, then spun toward the baseline. Zaboru followed, but Jordan suddenly reversed direction and finished with a powerful one-handed dunk.

Michael Jackson stopped cheering.

Jackie slowly nodded. "That was also beautiful."

Jordan looked toward them. "Much better."

The game became increasingly serious.

Neither man held back.

Zaboru realised quickly that Jordan had improved his understanding of the unfamiliar techniques he had shown during their previous game. He no longer reacted blindly to the step-back. He watched Zaboru's hips, feet, and shoulders, waiting for the real movement instead of chasing every fake.

Jordan had even incorporated parts of those techniques into his own game.

However, he did not simply copy them.

He adapted them to his body, rhythm, and experience.

His step-back remained more physical than Zaboru's. His crossover was not as flashy as Iverson's, but he used it to create just enough space for his deadly mid-range shot.

Zaboru became increasingly impressed.

'He really is insane.'

Knowing that Michael Jordan was extraordinary and actually guarding him at full intensity were two completely different experiences.

Jordan's pressure never disappeared.

Even when Zaboru created space, Jordan recovered.

Even when Zaboru defended correctly, Jordan found another angle.

Every mistake became a point.

At the same time, Jordan was beginning to understand that Zaboru was one of the most difficult one-on-one opponents he had ever faced.

Zaboru was not stronger.

He was not faster in every movement.

He lacked Jordan's years of professional experience.

Yet his body responded with almost unnatural precision. His balance remained stable, his reactions were sharp, and he could reproduce techniques after seeing them only a few times.

Worse, his style constantly changed.

For several possessions, Zaboru attacked with sharp, low crossovers. Then he suddenly began using slower hesitation movements. After Jordan adapted, Zaboru moved into the post and copied parts of Jordan's own footwork against him.

Jordan blocked one shot and stared at him. "Did you just use my move?"

Zaboru grinned. "Maybe."

"You are irritating."

"Thank you."

The score reached ten to ten.

Both men were already breathing harder.

Jackie and Michael Jackson had become unusually focused, no longer joking after every possession. Even they could feel how serious the game had become.

Jordan scored with a fadeaway.

Zaboru answered with a quick two-point shot.

Jordan drove past him and finished near the rim.

Zaboru used a crossover into a spinning layup.

Thirteen to thirteen.

Jordan began defending more aggressively. He pressed closer, using his reach and strength to reduce Zaboru's space.

Zaboru responded by changing pace.

He moved slowly, almost casually, then accelerated without warning. Jordan stayed with him, but Zaboru stopped beneath the basket and reversed the ball onto the other side of the rim.

The shot went in.

Michael Jackson shouted, "That was smooth!"

Zaboru looked toward him. "Naturally."

Jordan took the ball and scored immediately with a powerful drive.

The match continued until both reached eighteen.

At that point, the friendly atmosphere had nearly vanished from the court.

Jordan wiped sweat from his forehead. "You are really trying to beat me."

Zaboru breathed deeply. "Obviously."

"I thought you were only here to have fun."

"I am having fun."

"This is how you have fun?"

"Yes."

Jordan laughed. "You are crazy."

He attacked again.

Zaboru defended closely, preventing the direct drive. Jordan moved into the post, turned once, then used another fadeaway.

Zaboru jumped at the correct moment.

His fingertips touched the ball.

The shot fell short.

Jackie stood. "Blocked!"

Zaboru collected the rebound and immediately moved beyond the line.

Jordan rushed toward him.

Zaboru hesitated, stepped backward, and released the shot before Jordan could completely close the distance.

The ball struck the rim.

It bounced once.

Then fell inside.

Twenty to eighteen.

Michael Jackson screamed and began jumping. "He won!"

Jordan immediately raised one finger. "No. Two-point lead."

Zaboru nodded. "We agreed."

Jackie sat down again. "This match refuses to end."

Jordan took possession and scored with a quick mid-range shot.

Twenty to nineteen.

Because Zaboru no longer had a two-point advantage, the game continued.

Zaboru attacked carefully.

Jordan's defence became suffocating. Every path toward the basket disappeared. Zaboru attempted a step-back, but Jordan recognised it and remained close.

Zaboru released the shot anyway.

It missed.

Jordan secured the ball.

He attacked with frightening speed.

Zaboru stayed with him and forced him away from the basket. Jordan stopped, turned, and released a fadeaway over Zaboru's extended hand.

The ball went in.

Twenty to twenty.

Michael Jackson placed both hands on his head. "Come on!"

Jackie leaned forward. "Now this is serious."

The next several possessions ended without points.

Jordan forced Zaboru into a difficult shot.

Zaboru prevented Jordan from reaching his preferred position.

Both were exhausted, but neither wanted to lose.

Finally, Zaboru scored from mid-range.

Twenty-one to twenty.

Jordan answered immediately.

Twenty-one to twenty-one.

Zaboru attacked again.

He used a fast crossover, briefly creating space, then drove toward the left side of the basket. Jordan recovered and reached across at the exact moment Zaboru lifted the ball.

The ball came loose.

Jordan caught it.

He moved outside the line and faced Zaboru.

Both men paused.

Jordan dribbled once.

Then twice.

Zaboru watched carefully.

Jordan suddenly attacked toward the right. Zaboru stayed in front.

Jordan crossed left.

Zaboru followed.

Then Jordan used the same sharp pullback and step-back he had shown at the beginning of the game.

Zaboru recognised it.

He jumped forward.

Jordan adjusted in the air and released the ball with a slightly higher arc.

The shot passed over Zaboru's hand.

Whoosh.

Twenty-three to twenty-one.

Jordan won by two.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Michael Jackson groaned loudly and fell backward across his chair.

"So close!"

Jackie clapped enthusiastically. "Amazing! Both of you are insane!"

Zaboru placed both hands on his knees, breathing heavily. The final score had become longer than expected because neither of them could create the required advantage.

Jordan was equally exhausted.

He walked toward Zaboru, still breathing hard, then laughed.

"Holy shit, Zaboru. You really are something else."

Zaboru straightened himself. "You copied my move."

"I improved your move."

"You barely made it."

"But I made it."

Jordan extended one hand, and Zaboru shook it.

Jordan looked at him seriously. "You know, I am not joking anymore. Do you want to join the NBA?"

Zaboru chuckled. "Not interested."

"You could actually play."

"I already have several jobs."

"You own the jobs."

"That still counts."

Jordan shook his head. "You might be one of the toughest one-on-one opponents I have ever played, and you refuse because you are busy making games."

Zaboru smiled. "Games are more fun."

Jordan looked offended. "More fun than basketball?"

"Sometimes."

"That is the worst thing you said all night."

Zaboru laughed. "Still, you copied my moves insanely well, Mike."

Jordan proudly placed both hands on his hips. "I am just built different, bro."

Michael Jackson immediately laughed from the side. "Did Michael Jordan just say 'built different'?"

Jackie nodded. "He has been spending too much time with Zaboru."

Jordan ignored them and pointed toward Zaboru. "Next time, the score will not be this close."

Zaboru grinned. "You said that last time."

"And I won again."

"By two points."

"A win is a win."

Jackie stepped onto the court. "Can I challenge the winner?"

Jordan looked at him. "Basketball?"

Jackie picked up the ball and spun it awkwardly between his hands. "Maybe basketball with martial arts."

"No."

Michael Jackson joined them and attempted to dribble. The ball immediately bounced off his shoe and rolled away.

He stared after it. "I am better at dancing."

Zaboru laughed. "Definitely."

After everyone rested and changed clothes, the four men left the house together and travelled to a private barbecue restaurant.

The evening became much calmer there.

Jordan ordered an enormous amount of meat because he claimed Zaboru had forced him to use too much energy. Jackie criticised the restaurant's Chinese side dishes despite nobody asking him. Michael Jackson became fascinated with the cooking process and repeatedly asked whether he could flip the meat himself.

Zaboru simply sat among them, eating and listening as the three celebrities argued over food, basketball, music, and movies.

To the rest of the world, they were extraordinary men.

Michael Jordan was a legendary athlete.

Michael Jackson was one of the most famous musicians alive.

Jackie Chan was an international movie star.

Zaboru was the founder of one of the most powerful entertainment and technology companies in the world.

Yet inside the private restaurant, none of that mattered.

They were simply four friends laughing, insulting one another, stealing food from each other's plates, and arguing about whether Jordan had truly improved Zaboru's step-back or merely copied it.

For several hours, Zaboru did not think about the Illuminati, Arachne, suspicious meetings, ZEPS 4 deadlines, or the uncertain future.

He only enjoyed the people around him.

And perhaps that was why these friendships had become so important.

None of them needed anything from him.

They simply wanted him there.

To be continued.

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