Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball

Chapter 314: Heroes vs Monsters(3)

The door of the Falcons’ locker room closed with a loud bang, finally cutting off the noise of the crowd from the Sector Central arena. Once the door was closed, the silence inside felt so thick it was almost hard to breathe.

Blacklist 64 - 40 Falcons.

They were down by twenty four points. It was a total disaster, a historic blowout, and it had only taken twenty minutes of playing for things to get this bad.

In the far corner of the bench, Griffin sat with his head in his hands. He was holding on so tight his entire body trembled. The soreness in his muscles was nothing compared to what was going on in his head; he felt utterly broken.

All he could see was Nash at the buzzer, leaping up with such ease to put a stop to his best dunk and let the ball hit the floor as if it were an insect. The memory was burned into him.

Over by the chalkboard John was standing, his rectangular glasses steamed over from the room’s humidity and he made no move to clear them. Shane had his elbows on his knees and was fixed on the concrete in a blank stare. Ryan, the quiet one, was propped up against the lockers, his heavy breathing punctuated by an occasional low grunt of defeat.

Then there was Alex near the door, motionless with her back to the wall. Some of her wavy blonde hair fell across her face, but you could tell from her sharp, empty gaze that she was somewhere else entirely, well away from whatever tactical nonsense was written on the board.

Griffin raised his head and saw how removed she was. It was unlike his mentor to be this detached in the midst of a game.

"Alex?" he said. "You all right? You seem... off."

She gave a blink as if waking up and tugged at her Falcons jersey to put it in order, offering a shrug for good measure. A twitch in her fingers at her hip betrayed some lack of composure, though she put on a brave face.

"Don’t worry about it, Tiger," Alex replied, her tone smoother. "Nothing to worry about. Catch your breath. We have a mountain to get over out there."

He let it go, but he knew better. She was putting on an act to hide the weight of things, the same quiet unease that had been there after the long look she and Victoria exchanged on the court.

In the centre of the room, Erica stood, holding a dry erase marker. For once her mind was not at work dissecting the situation but had gone in circles; Nash’s Zone State had put an end to every scheme she put in place against Blacklist.

"I don’t know," she said in a hushed tone. The words came out strained and there were tears of frustration in her eyes. "The numbers he puts up are illogical. We set our trap to perfection, made sure he was isolated, and yet... he is something else entirely. What can we do? How do you defend against someone playing like that?"

"Nothing. You do not defend it."

The flatness of the voice put an end to the bad mood. All heads swivelled to see Rain at the water cooler. He wore his towel over his head and there was a cold edge to his blue eyes now, a sharpness not normally there.

"What did you say, Rain?" Shane muttered, shaking his head. "Look at the board, man. We got slaughtered. That guy did not even break a sweat."

"I said, you do not defend it," Rain repeated. He stepped into the center of the room. "You do not play math against Nash Blaze. I told you before the game started, he is the Beast among monsters. If you come onto the court expecting a fair match with rules and balanced stats, you have already lost. The street does not care about your numbers, Coach."

Rain walked straight up to Griffin, stopping just centimeters away from him.

"Look at me, Blaze," Rain commanded.

Griffin did not move. Rain reached down, grabbed the collar of Griffin’s jersey, and yanked his head up with a sudden strength that shocked everyone in the room.

"I said look at me, Tiger! Where the hell is your pride?!" Rain yelled. His voice was no longer flat; it was full of cold, intense anger. "You spent weeks talking about breaking the wall. You spent all morning telling me your blood was boiling to face the challenge. And now, just because he blocked you once, you are sitting here crying like a bench warmer?"

"You don’t understand, Rain..." Griffin growled. His amber eyes were full of shame and anger. "He did not just block me. He was not even trying. He tuned down his level because he thought I was a joke. He looked down on me like I was a fly!"

"Then make him look at you!" Rain shouted back, slamming his fist against Griffin’s locker. "I have watched his games. I know how he works. If he thinks you are a fly, it is because you are acting like one right now! I am the bullet, Griffin. But a bullet is nothing without its gun. If my gun is jamming before the third quarter even starts, then why the hell did we even come to this place?!"

Those words hit Griffin like a bolt of electricity. The red haired rookie froze, his jaw tightening. Rain’s speech washed away the cold fear in his chest. Griffin’s knuckles popped. His breathing became heavy and ragged, and his instincts roared back to life. He felt a fresh wave of adrenaline boiling in his blood.

Griffin stood up, towering over Rain, with a wild, scary grin on his face.

"You are right," Griffin whispered, his voice vibrating with a new, terrifying energy. "What the fuck was i thinking about? Forget the strategies. Forget his power. If I have to break my own legs to drag him back into the game, I will do it. I am going to make that titan regret ever looking down on me."

"That’s more like it," Shane said. A wild smile broke across his face as he jumped up from the bench and slammed his hand against the wall. "Let’s go out there and tear their throats out! We are not dying in this closet!"

John Hunter wiped his glasses with a quick, aggressive flick of his jersey.

"Line up. Every single play is a war now. We do not care about the score. We just play until the wood breaks."

The Falcons erupted into wild cheers. Their motivation was back as they got ready to go back onto the floor for the second half.

Across the concrete hallway, the atmosphere in the Blacklist locker room was the exact opposite. It was dead silent and calm, but faces were relaxed.

Nash was sitting on a bench, with a towel around his neck. His green eyes were calm as he watched Victoria. She was standing near the whiteboard, reviewing the second quarter stats on her screen with satisfaction.

Nia, Alicia and Jaz were slumped on the other side, their skin glistening with sweat and their chests heaving. The physical effort of executing Nash’s laser fast passes while dealing with the Falcons’ aggressive defense had taken a lot out of them.

"You did a great job out there, Nia," Nash said, his voice breaking the silence. "Your play at the point guard spot was flawless. You handled them like a queen."

Nia wiped her forehead, a tired but happy smile on her lips as she leaned her head back against the locker.

"Thanks, Nash. I just followed your positioning. But... my legs are burning. Those guys don’t stop running."

"Same here," Jaz grunted, rotating her shoulder with a wince of pain. "They are heavy under the basket. Every single rebound feels like a car crash."

Nash nodded. His green eyes were calculating how tired they were. With this lead, he could use the rest+ team zone strategy.

"Yeah. You girls rest for the start of the third. I need you fresh for the final stretch to close the game. We have a twenty four point lead, so we can manage our assets."

He looked toward the far end of the room where the other male players were sitting in the dark.

"Mac, Jinzo," Nash commanded coldly. "Put your jerseys on. You are subbing in with the two guys who haven’t played to open the quarter. Just hold the perimeter, keep the ball moving, and let me anchor the deep post. I am going to save my energy for the final quarter."

Mac nodded immediately and reached for his sneakers. But Jinzo did not move.

Jaz’s former boyfriend, stayed slumped on his stool. His arms were crossed, and his face was pale and hollow because of the public humiliation he had suffered before the game. He did not even look at Nash. A bitter, toxic laugh came from his throat.

"No," Jinzo muttered. "I am not playing."

An immediate, suffocating silence fell over the room. The air felt heavy, like something was about to explode. Nia, Alicia and Jaz clenched their jaws, looking anxiously at Nash, expecting him to have a violent outburst. Mac froze in place, a sneaker dangling from his hand.

But the explosion never happened.

Nash did not move. He did not even stand up. His face remained entirely calm, not because he was holding back, but because he simply did not care. He looked at Jinzo the way an engineer looks at a loose bolt that has already been replaced.

"Ah," Nash murmured, his voice smooth and unbothered. "You are not participating? Alright. Do whatever you want. It does not matter anymore."

Near the whiteboard, Victoria did not even react. She had not stopped typing on her expensive smartphone, her thumbs moving slowly. She was completely relaxed, treating Jinzo’s emotional breakdown like background noise.

Jinzo looked up, his jaw twitching. A wave of paranoid confusion took over his anger.

From his point of view, Blacklist was in a terrible spot. By refusing to play, he was forcing the team into a corner where they would soon have fewer than the legally required number of active players to qualify for future league matches.

Without him, the roster was broken. They should be panicking. They should be begging him or screaming at him to protect their investment.

Why are they so calm? Jinzo thought, cold sweat breaking out on his palms as he stared at the calm power couple. What the hell is happening?

Nash casually stood up and threw his towel onto the bench, ending Jinzo’s spiral without giving him another word.

"Mac, and you two," Nash ordered, pointing at the NPCs. "Alicia, you’re playing at the beginning. We are taking the floor. Let’s go finish these bums."

The buzzer for the third quarter echoed through the arena, and the two teams stepped back onto the polished wood under the flashing lights.

The change in lineups was obvious. Blacklist rolled out a weakened roster on paper: Nash was at the center, Alicia was the shooting guard, Mac took over as small forward, and two plugs filled the point guard and power forward spots. On the other side, the Falcons returned with their original, hot blooded team, their eyes burning with a new motivation: Fred at the point, John Hunter at shooting guard, Griffin at power forward, Ryan Miller under the rim, and Rain playing as their joker.

Nash immediately saw the layout. To save his energy after using his Zone State, he completely stopped his offensive drive. He shifted back into a classic, passive defensive center role, staying right under the rim. He was happy to protect the paint and let his filler players handle the ball on the outside, knowing that he would see the ball very often.

And he was right, the Falcons were not the same team they were ten minutes ago.

The moment Fred brought the ball up, the energy was electric. He did not hesitate against Mac’s lazy defense; he snapped a quick pass into the corner to John Hunter. John pretended to drive to the basket, pulling the Blacklist NPC to the right side, before zipping the ball back to the top of the key.

That was the exact opening Rain was waiting for.

Using his ability to be almost invisible on the court, the "King of shrimp" glided completely undetected through the blind spots of the Blacklist defense. Before the NPC even knew he was there, Rain appeared in the gap, his hand flashing in a fraction of a second to steal the ball.

Without even looking, he made a lightning fast blind pass, a straight projectile that sliced through the air like a wire.

Griffin was already flying. Helped by Rain’s perfect timing, the red haired powerhouse exploded off the floor, jumping high above the rim. He caught the pass at the highest point of his jump and slammed it through the hoop with a savage roar.

BOOM!

Blacklist 64 - 42 Falcons

"Yeah! This is how we start!" Shane Evans screamed from the bench. The entire Falcons squad went wild, cheering and waving towels.

Nash did not even blink as the hoop shook above his head. He simply grabbed the ball as it fell through the net and passed it to Mac with a calm, steady attitude. He was not going to let one rookie dunk ruin his defensive plan.

Over on the bench, Jinzo sat in his warm up gear, his eyes completely disconnected from the game. He was not watching the ball. His gaze was locked on Victoria, who was sitting on the Blacklist side with her legs crossed and her chin resting on her hand.

During the next three plays, as Griffin scored a high speed layup and John Hunter hit a wide open jumper, Jinzo studied every inch of her posture. The Falcons were closing the gap quickly with aggressive moves. Any normal manager or owner would be pacing the sidelines, screaming for changes, or biting their nails in panic.

But Victoria stayed completely relaxed.

She occasionally tapped her screen, took a slow sip from a water bottle, and watched the scoreboard like someone watching a movie. Her lack of urgency was terrifying.

They are hiding something huge, Jinzo realized, his heart hammering against his ribs. There has to be something... They’re too calm about it.

On the court, the Falcons pushed forward with terrifying speed. Rain slid through the half court line like a shadow, drawing the attention of the Blacklist fillers away from the paint, before snapping another spectacular, no look pass backward through his own legs.

Griffin caught it while running, his eyes burning. He drove hard toward the block, scoring a ferocious, high speed layup that kissed the glass before Nash could even move his heavy frame to stop it.

Blacklist 64 - 48 Falcons

"They are closing the gap!" Chloe whispered from the stands. "Nash is not even trying to stop their fast breaks. What’s going on? It’s like he isn’t even trying..."

Next to her, Mirage narrowed his eyes, a slow smile on his face as he watched the tactics shift.

"Maybe... Just maybe he is saving his energy?" Mirage noted, leaning over the rail. "He knows his current lineup is trash without his main girls. Instead of wasting his own stamina trying to carry them on offense, he is letting them burn their energy... He already showed that once he went all out, he was unstoppable after all."

On the floor, Griffin stood near the free throw line, breathing hard and wiping sweat from his jaw. His amber eyes were locked onto Nash’s calm posture. The fact that the giant was not even trying to push the ball on offense, content to just stand there and defend, made Griffin’s blood boil with rage.

He is still looking down on me... Griffin thought, his fists clenching tight as he ran back into his defensive zone. He thinks he can just coast through the third quarter and still beat us. I am going to force him to fight me for real.

The war of attrition in the second half was officially on. The Falcons were throwing their entire souls into the grind, desperate to get the Beast out of his cage.

Blacklist 64 - 48 Falcons