Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball

Chapter 315: Heroes vs Monsters(4)

The third quarter was winding down, and every second felt like an hour. The lead was shrinking, and the gap between the scores was getting smaller.

Over on the Blacklist bench, things were awkward and freezing. Jinzo was sitting on the very edge of his stool, far from Jaz and Nia. He felt a ball of anxiety growing in his stomach, making him feel sick.

He couldn’t stop staring at Victoria. She was just leaning back, calmly typing on her phone. She had this tiny look of disgust, or was it annoyance, on her lips. She wasn’t even looking at the game anymore.

To her, this high-stakes match was basically just background noise, like even she knew it was over. Jinzo looked over at the court and saw Nash defending. Nash was just walking around, slow and calm, looking like he didn’t have a single worry in the world.

"This makes no fucking sense," Jinzo muttered. His chest felt tight and he started sweating profusely.

He was sure that the secret plan to get new players from the Baby-Boom roster had failed. Apex controlled all the paperwork and even the Midnight Rest had fallen. Basically, they held all the power, and Blacklist was in deep shit. There was no way Victoria could have fixed the legal stuff in one night. If they didn’t have a valid expansion of the roster, Blacklist would be disqualified from the qualifiers. It would be a permanent game over.

Then why are they so relaxed? Jinzo wondered, grinding his teeth. The silence on the bench was starting to crush his nerves. They are treating me like I am nothing. They are not even looking at me to put me in my place. What did they do behind my back? What did I miss??

The fact that Victoria completely ignored him hurt his pride more than if she had actually insulted him, but it was also worrying. He was being left out of everything, just rotting on the bench while the team moved forward without him, and they didn’t seem to care about the number of players available.

Out on the court, the Falcons were pushing hard.

Blacklist 72 - 56 Falcons.

Rain and Griffin were on fire. Rain was a perfect ghost player, sliding through the gaps in the Blacklist defense without anyone even noticing he was there. With a super fast snap of his wrist, he threw a loose ball backward at a crazy angle, and it slid right into the baseline.

Griffin caught it while running, his amber eyes looking wild. He charged into the paint, slamming his whole body into Mac to get past him. It was a brutal hit, but Griffin powered through and threw a heavy layup over the rim.

"Get out of your box, Nash!" Griffin yelled. He was drenched in sweat, slamming his fist against his own chest as he ran back. "Stop hiding under the net and actually fight me!"

Nash didn’t do anything. He was just saving his energy, retreating slowly. On the next two plays, when John Hunter took a jump shot or Griffin cut through the lane, Nash could have easily jumped up and smacked the ball into the stands. He had the height and the position to do it.

Instead, he just barely lifted his arm, lazily pretending to defend while making sure he didn’t commit any fouls.

The reason he was being so lazy was simple: he had won. Like Victoria who had stopped paying attention after the first half, he knew it was over. He knew the Falcons were already cooked.

He had already figured out how the fourth quarter would go. The second Jaz and Nia stepped back onto the court, fresh and rested, he was going to turn on his Zone State, pull them into the team Zone and absolutely massacre them.

He didn’t want to waste a single drop of energy on a rookie’s "shonen" energy. To Nash, the Falcons were just a bunch of kids throwing a loud tantrum before the curtain closed.

Rain stood next to Griffin, noticing Griffin’s heavy breathing.

"Save your breath for running, Griffin. You are barking too much and moving too slow. I will keep finding the holes, just keep your hands ready."

Griffin grunted, wiping sweat off his forehead.

"I am going to force him to jump, Rain. Just watch."

Blacklist 76 - 64 Falcons.

Up in the boxes, the vibe changed as the pace of the game shifted. Chloe frowned as she stared at the numbers on her tablet. Next to her, Mirage was leaning against the cold metal railing with a smug, amused grin on his face.

"Look at Griffin go," Mirage chuckled, shaking his head. He watched the red-haired rookie running around like a maniac. "He is putting on a whole show, trying so hard just to get a reaction out of the guy."

"It is not working," Chloe muttered, her stylus scratching against the glass of her tablet. "Look at these graphs. Nash’s movement is a flat line. He is barely using any energy. The numbers are wrong on so many level!"

Mirage rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Chloe, stop talking to me in Chinese. I don’t get your nerdy charts. Just tell me what is happening in plain English."

Chloe sighed and gave him an annoyed look.

"We are saying the same thing, you idiot! Nash hasn’t showed half of his abilities, and except Alicia, the main roster is benched. He is getting ready for an explosive finish!"

Mirage looked at her for a moment, contemplating her cute face, or maybe the absurd color of her hair.

"Louder, for the guys in the back."

Chloe let out a loud groan of frustration.

"Nash is not trying! He is just saving his energy! He is letting them score just enough to keep them happy while he rests his legs. He will crush them on the final quarter, you dumbass!"

Mirage couldn’t stop laughing after that. Chloe groaned, staring hard at Nash’s face through the crowd. But then, she noticed a strange new parameter. The calm look on Nash’s face was starting to turn into something else, a little, growing irritation.

"Seriously... Griffin needs to back off," Chloe whispered, feeling a chill go down her spine. "Provoking a sleeping beast is the biggest mistake you can make. They can’t win, they won’t win... but this could be worse."

Blacklist 78 - 70 Falcons.

There were only thirty seconds left in the third quarter, and the lead had dropped to a single digit.

The thousands of fans in the arena went crazy. The place exploded into a wall of screams, people were rattling iron chains, and bettors were pounding on the glass.

With the crowd roaring and Erica waving her arms frantically from the sidelines, the Falcons actually thought they could pull off a miracle.

Griffin drove into the lane like a predator. He crashed hard into Mac in mid-air, taking the hit on his shoulder before flipping the ball high off the glass.

Clang... Swish.

The whistle blew. It was a shooting foul. An and-one.

The arena went wild. Griffin landed hard, his face red and saliva flying from his mouth as he spun around and stood right in Nash’s way. He leaned in, eyes bloodshot, screaming right into Nash’s face.

"Where is all that big talk now, Blaze?!" Griffin roared, his fists clenched and his chest hitting against Nash’s. "You are a coward! You are hiding! You lowered your game because you do not have the balls to look me in the eye when things get real! You are just a fake king!"

Before Nash could say anything, John Hunter and Shane Evans rushed in and grabbed Griffin by his jersey, yanking him back.

"Shut the hell up, Griffin!" Shane barked, hitting him on the back of the head. "You are acting like an idiot again. Get your head out of your ass and go shoot the free throw!"

"Seriously, wrap it up," John hissed, pulling him away by the waist. "You are embarrassing the team with this drama. Just go to the line."

Griffin sputtered, trying to fight his teammates as they dragged him away. His "main character" moment was ruined. He took a breath, set his feet, and knocked down the free throw. Then, he turned back toward his side of the court with a huge, winning grin.

Nash froze.

Something in the titan’s mind snapped. The boredom in his green eyes vanished, replaced by a dark, creeping rage that came from the very bottom of his soul.

Did... Did this motherfucker just...

For a moment, he seemed all alone in his world.

I let them climb back into the game on purpose, Nash thought, his jaw clenching. I let them have their little run because the result of this match is already decided. So where the fuck does this yapper get the right to talk to me about balls?

Suddenly, an invisible, heavy pressure wave expanded from his body, filling the whole hangar. Down on the bench, Erica flinched, her marker slipping from her hand. In the boxes, Chloe and Mirage stiffened up. Snow stood up suddenly, his dark eyes narrowing with a smile. Even Seth, hiding under his black hood, frowned because he could feel the air change.

Nash stepped forward.

The veins in his massive forearms bulged like thick ropes. He didn’t run; he just walked toward the Falcon’s side of the court. Every step felt like it emitted a little shockwave.

You want a duel? Nash thought, his green eyes lighting up with a savage look. When you can’t even handle me when I tried a little? Who does this guy think he is playing with?

Snow leaned over the railing, his laughter echoing in the sudden silence.

"Haha, yes! There we go!"

"Uh oh..." Mirage muttered, his face turning pale as he stepped back. "Here comes trouble."

Nash reached the half-court line. His huge shadow completely covered Griffin. The rookie turned around, and the grin on his face froze instantly. Rain stepped up next to Griffin, narrowing his eyes as he felt the crushing weight of Nash’s presence. Nash looked down at them from his height, his rough voice sounding like a heavy anvil hitting the floor.

"You want a real challenge?" Nash rumbled. "Fine. I’ll show you just how bad a game can turn."

[Beast Mode Activated.]

[Zone State Activated.]