Chapter 152: The Second Coming

The second quarter began.Jinzo jogged onto the court like a commander, chin high, voice loud, palms slapping the ball too long.

"My call! Set up! Move!"

He waved everyone around, barking orders that didn’t match the spacing.

Across the court, Baby-Boom noticed Nash sitting on the bench. They blinked, surprised.

Miko’s eyes narrowed toward the paint. Jaz was now near the rim, breathing hard but steady.

Is she... Already gassed?

The first few plays looked messy on Blacklist’s side.

Passes came late, spacing broke down. Jinzo dribbled high, shouting, "Corner! Slot! No, reset!" ignoring Mac’s signal and Drex’s pick.

His flashy pass hit Mac’s ankle and rolled out.

Turnover. Score: 40–14.

Drex threw his arms up.

"Bro, what are you doing?"

Mac shook his head.

"Slow it down, man."

Jinzo waved them off.

"I got it!" But his chest was already rising fast. He glanced at the bench. Nash sat calm, fixing him.

I’ve got this. I won’t lose to him.

Next play, he crossed half court too fast.

"Switch! Iso! Clear!"

The team froze. Drex cut too soon, Mac rolled early. Jaz fought alone inside, holding her ground.

"Stick to one call!" Drex barked.

"I said I got it!" Jinzo shot back, forcing a drive.

Kai met him head-on. The ball slipped, flying over Drex’s head.

Whistle. Another turnover. Score: 40–16.

Nia groaned.

"Great. He benches Nash, and now we’re falling apart."

Mac tried to calm Jinzo.

"Just breathe, dude. Keep it simple."

"Yeah, I’m fine," Jinzo lied, hands shaking.

He couldn’t play like usual, or just play at all. It was now or never. He could prove he was better if he performed here.

He called another play, voice cracking.

"Clear out!"

The team half-listened. Drex screened the wrong side. Jinzo tripped on his own step, lost the ball. Fast break, Aiko to Kai, layup clean. Score: 40–18.

The tables had turned, and despite her reputation, Jaz wasn’t stopping anything.

Miko smirked, waving her girls together.

"Change of plan," she said. "Kai, attack Jaz one-on-one. Make her sweat, jump, don’t let her rest. Hina, now that Nash is out, you can distract the boys again. Aiko, feed and stretch space."

"Got it," Kai said.

Hina grinned.

"Time to shine~"

Rei wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

"You figured something out?"

"Yeah," Miko said, pushing up her glasses. "No one dominates forever. It’s time for nature to callback."

Rei cracked her neck.

"Then I’ll handle the jumps. I’ve got a score to settle against her."

The play restarted. Aiko and Kai moved quickly, a perfect give-and-go. Jinzo was late, Drex and Mac out of place. Rei hit Jaz inside, shoved, scored. Score: 40–20.

Next play, Aiko drove, passed to Hina, spun around Drex, and got the ball back. Layup, clean. 40–22.

Blacklist tried to fight back. Jinzo dribbled too long again, yelling new plays every few seconds. Pass stolen, Kai raced down and scored a jumper. 40–24.

Jaz fought hard, blocking Kai once, grabbing rebounds, but each jump slowed her more. Sweat poured, her breath rough. Rei and Kai hit her every play.

40–26.

Miko clapped from the side.

"Keep it up! Make her jump!"

Rei and Kai trapped Jaz again. Hina cut in, stole the loose ball, threw it to Aiko. Three-pointer, swish. 40–29.

Nia yelled, furious.

"Pass the damn ball, Jinzo!"

Mac and Drex ran over.

"Bro! please! You’re pushing too hard."

But Jinzos was already in another world.

"I can’t mess this up," he muttered, eyes wild. "He’s not better than me."

Failing to perform was a disaster, but even worse, they were losing their points difference and it was his fault.

Just the idea made his play even worse.

He rushed another passz deflected, turnover. 40–32.

Baby-Boom smelled blood. Kai spun past Drex, banked it off the glass. 40–34.

Jaz kept fighting, arms wide, blocking one more shot, but her legs shook. Her breath came loud, each step heavier. The crowd roared with every point.

On the Blacklist bench, Alicia slammed her bottle.

"Look! Look!!! They’re wasting everything!" Alicia barjed, "They’re catching up."

Mac wiped his forehead.

"We’re losing it, man." Drex hit the floor with his hand. "Come on!"

Jinzo looked pale, whispering to himself.

"Stay calm, stay calm."

He drove, forced a shot, ending with a miss. Rei caught the rebound, turned, and dunked over Jaz, who finally fell back, gasping.

Score: 40–36.

Baby-Boom was closing in. The crowd exploded as the gap shrank.

Nash sat elbows on knees, chin resting on his laced fingers, eyes locked on the court.

His gaze moved from player to player, reading every bad pass, every mistimed cut. The rhythm was gone, and so was the hope.

"He’s screwing it up," Alicia muttered next to him, shaking her head.

Nash glanced at her, just a side-eye, taking in the flush creeping up her neck, the way her face looked redder with her freckles.

He noted the system’s subtle ping in his head: [Alicia – 33% (Jealous)]

His earlier synergy with Jaz had lit her up, and now she was mainly feeling this jealousy, maybe just hungry for her own piece of the cake.

He leaned in a fraction.

"Let him. Some lessons need pain."

She turned, brows knitting, but her bounce slowed, leg stilling against his.

"Pain? That’s not helping us. We’re bleeding points out there. If he’d just... I don’t know, passed once? You’d be carving them up right now."

Her words tumbled fast, but there was a hitch, eyes dropping to her hands, fingers twisting the hem of her jersey, pulling it tight over her curves.

Nash shifted, elbow brushing hers, close enough to catch the faint salt of her sweat.

"And you’d be wide open on the wing. That’ll be your spot, Alicia."

He paused, letting it sink, then added low.

"Jaz is carrying the paint ’cause no one’s feeding her clean. You step in? Same role, slash, spot-up, draw the double. Nia’s got that hawk-eye for it; you match her fire, and we’re flipping this script. Big role for you next quarter. Trust my read."

Her breath caught, a quick inhale that lifted her chest, and she met his eyes, wide, then softening, a grin cracking through.

She bumped his shoulder with hers, thigh pressing warm against his for a beat.

"Yeah? You see that in me?" Her voice calmer now.

"See it? I built it." Nash smirked, faint, but enough to hook her.

[Alicia: Satisfaction 33% → 58%(hyped)]

"Get your legs warm. We’re not handing this win away."

The system quest was still on, ten women, full satisfaction. He should at least try getting one.

And for the other, Jaz still had the best stats. Points, rebounds, everything.

He needed to take the top spot.

Across the bench, Victoria stood still like a statue, arms crossed tight under her generous chest.

She had her glasses on, and it was a miracle, as her stare could probably kill someone.

Her blonde hair didn’t move, not even with the crowd’s rumble shaking the seats.

Dahlia sat beside her, notebook open on her lap.

"That was a thirty-point lead," Dahlia said. "Now it’s almost eaual. What happened?"

Victoria didn’t move her eyes from the court.

"Ask your data, not me."

Dahlia exhaled.

"You put too much on Nash. You can’t rely on one player for everything."

Victoria’s lip curved slightly.

"Then find me another one who can think. You’re the smart one, aren’t you? Fix it."

Dahlia write another note.

"They’re trying. But leadership isn’t just about control. It’s rhythm. They need to think for themselves, sustainable rotations mean depth, not dependency."

Victoria’s head snapped her way, slowly, dangerously.

She uncrossed her arms, one hand planting on her hip.

"Depth? That’s your solution, clipboard queen? This team’s a gutter rat with delusions, half these clowns couldn’t spell ’rotation’ without a diagram... Nah, make it 99%."

Her voice dropped, drawing eyes from the bench without raising it.

"I built this from scraps because I know their worth: raw, breakable, and easily replaceable. Nash? He’s the tree hiding the forest of bullshit. You wanna play armchair savior? Fine. Suggest a fix that doesn’t end with us down double-digits. Otherwise, back your doubt with results, or get out of my huddle."

Dahlia didn’t flinch, just adjusted her glasses, pen pausing mid-tap.

"Results require systems, Ma’am. Nash elevates, yes, but over-reliance breeds complacency. I’ve run the projections, balanced minutes could—"

"Projections don’t win streetball." Victoria leaned in, her breath spiking for the first time.

Everyone on the bench watched her, suddenly wishing to be invisible.

But gladly, this time, the target wasn’t any of them.

"In breakball you grind bones. You think this is chess? It’s war. I rely on what works, and right now, that’s him. Question my call again, and you better have a play that bleeds better than his."

She straightened, turning back to the floor.

Dahlia closed her notebook with a sigh, lips pressing thin.

The bench hung thick with it, the three NPCs shooting glances, Alicia gulping.