Chapter 8: Three Rounds, No Pull-Out

Now all that was left for Nash was to drop his newly earned six PP into the spots that made the most sense.

One point into Agility for tighter footwork, another into Reflex so he’d stop reacting late on cuts. He poured two into Stamina, if he wanted to grind quests all day and still hold his own on the court, that bar had to stretch.

One went to Movement IQ, sharpening his instincts. The last went to Short Shot, because close-range buckets shouldn’t be a gamble anymore.

He leaned back and watched the court.

Sarra and Lina weren’t around yet, probably wouldn’t show until later in the afternoon. They always came together, and always after lunch. That gave him a few hours to work with.

A group was forming on the far side. Not the casual kids this time, older players, sharp sneakers, real body language.

Court regulars. A couple already warming up with long passes and heavy dunks. Not pros, but not amateurs either.

That’s when the idea sparked.

Last time I got a quest for playing. If I push this, maybe I can trigger another one here...

He stood up, wiped his hands on his shorts, and jogged over.

"Yo," he called out. "You guys playing for something or just stretching legs?"

A tattooed collarbone guy looked him over, unimpressed.



"We play for credits. You got any?"

Nash smiled.

"Yeah, I’m betting what I’ve got."

The guy smirked.

"We talk with numbers here, shrimp."

"30 creds, and I feel like putting everything on the line."

That got a few grins. One player laughed. "Sounds like another street rat trying to flip luck."

"How about we see if I’m lucky?" Nash said.

[NEW SPECIAL QUEST AVAILABLE – STREETBALL: HIGH STAKES]

Objective: Win 3 matches before sundown.

Basic Reward per win: +1 PP, +150₵

Completion Bonus (3 wins): +2 PP, + 10% Court Reputation

Special Bonus (Flawless Win Streak): +1 PP, +1 Recovery Point, +Extra Stamina Boost for 24h

Nash stared.

Eight hundred credits total.

Eight hundred.

A single credit could buy a basic meal. Ten credits, you got gear, shorts, shoes, wrist tape. A hundred credits? Rent. Groceries. Power for a week. Now the system was offering him four times that just for playing his game and winning?

Zayela’s outstanding debt to the loan sharks?

8,200 C.

His heart pounded. This wasn’t a reward, it was a breath of hope.

The tattooed guy caught his expression and mistook it.

"What’s the matter, shrimp? Second thoughts?"

Nash blinked once, then grinned wide, real, and sharper than anything he’d worn before.

"No. Don’t worry, no matter what, nothing’s gonna stop what’s about to happen here."

The ball slammed through the hoop with a satisfying clap, a clean dunk off a perfect lob from Nash.

The court was full of shouts and curses.

That was the first play.

It had started with a simple bet. Now the court was packed, half the neighborhood watching, players waiting their turn.

Nash wasn’t the biggest or the flashiest, but today, he played like he was on fire

His agility and reflexes had jumped after the stat boost, and it showed.

He could now change direction mid-run, spin between defenders, and stay balanced even under pressure.



Every time he cut through a screen or stole a pass, it was clean, sharp. His stamina stretched longer too, no more burning out by the second half.

Not yet, at least.

He dished out passes like he was reading minds. One no-look assist. Two bounce passes threading through tight gaps. Then a hook feed that led to another dunk.

[BUFF ACQUIRED(Temporary)]

Dribble Control +5%

Assist Precision +7%

He barely noticed the words. He was locked in. He could feel it, not power, not magic, just clarity.

Like the noise dropped out, and he could see the game. Every movement made sense. His opponents felt a step behind. Every fake landed. Every pass split defenders.

They played hard. Over and over, but Nash didn’t sit out a single round.

The night blurred.

He won every match.

By the time it was near 6 PM, Nash had played more games than he could count.

His tank was nearly empty, arms sore and legs trembling, but he kept moving, kept firing.

In the last match, even half-dead, he was locked in.

He hit three quick assists, drew a foul with a tricky fake, and even though he didn’t score as much as the others, he orchestrated the win, again.

[QUEST COMPLETE: 5 Wins – +6 PP, +450₵]

[NEW ITEM ACQUIRED: Digital Utility Box]

He stood still for a second, chest heaving. The pop-up glowed in his vision. He blinked the sweat away.

Utility box? He was curious about this next gift, but before he could check it out, some guys tried to rope him into another match.

"One more!" someone shouted. "You’re on fire, Nash!"

He shook his head with a tired smile.

"I’m cooked. Rain check."

He waved a lazy goodbye and he walked toward the alleys near the edge of the court.

There, away from the noise, he pulled open the system panel and tapped on the new box.

[OPEN ITEM?]

→ Yes.

The box shimmered and opened in a quick pulse of blue light.

A sleek, black device dropped into his hand. It looked like a phone, but in this world, it was more than that.

[UNLOCKED: CreditChip | Portable Finance Module]

→ Functions: Credit Balance Tracking, Secure Transfers, Payment Verification.

Nash stared at the small screen.

[Device Linked – Mobile Access Terminal]



Identity Registered: NASH BLAZE

System Credit Account Created

[Current Balance: 450 ₵]

His eyes widened.

A bank account?

He flipped through the interface, minimalist, intuitive. A "Spend" tab. A "Deposit" tab. A "Transfer" tab. It even showed pending bonuses.

Plus interest. Weekly.

Nash stared at the number on his device: 450 ₵.

It wasn’t much, but it was real.

Not scraps. Not favors. Not IOUs on a repair job. He had earned this. In less than 24 hours, and if he kept grinding, if he pushed even harder... he could stack hundreds more. Thousands, maybe.

He swallowed.

For the first time, the debt wasn’t a wall. It was a mountain climbable.