Ethan didn’t waste any ti responding. He grinned, his focus sharp as ever, not even looking back at Miho. "I’m Ethan, that’s how."
The words were simple, but there was a weight to them. This was more than just a one-on-one ga; this was about proving that even without the flashiest technique or the most impressive skillset, raw determination and smart play could lead to victory.
Ethan’s first step toward the hoop was swift, followed by another burst of speed. His mind was already calculating the next move. He knew Miho would try to close the gap, but this wasn’t just about the play; it was about maintaining control and not letting his opponent regain his rhythm.
He dribbled once more, then took a quick step back, using his newfound space to set up a perfect jumper. Miho, still recovering, leaped toward him, but it was too late. Ethan released the ball in one fluid motion.
Swish.
The ball sailed cleanly through the net, and Ethan landed smoothly, his eyes locking with Miho’s in a quiet challenge.
The crowd was silent for a brief mont before breaking into murmurs of awe. Even Lucas and others, who were watching intently from the sidelines, couldn’t help but be impressed.
Miho, now visibly frustrated but determined, wiped the sweat from his brow and gritted his teeth. He had underestimated Ethan. His confidence had led him to believe that his Shamgod technique, honed over years of practice, would be enough to overpower anyone. But Ethan had proven him wrong—his swift reaction and keen basketball IQ had caught Miho completely off guard.
Miho’s voice was laced with frustration, but there was also a fierce determination in his words. "I don’t know how you managed to counter it... but I won’t let it slide. What you did to ?" Miho took a step back, adjusting his posture as he prepared for the next move. "You’re gonna pay for that, Ethan."
Evan Cooper, the captain of Vorpal Basket, stood off to the side as the referee. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of awe as he watched Ethan. "(Ethan is really good... even I can’t do that...)" he thought to himself. For a mont, Evan felt a bit worthless. After all, his team had been defeated by Eastgate Wildcats just recently. Watching Ethan effortlessly take down Miho’s best move made him question his own skills.
But the referee in him shook off those thoughts. With a sharp whistle, Evan shouted, "Ethan’s ball!"
Ethan nodded as the ball was passed back to him. He wasn’t about to let up now. With the ball in his hands, he squared up, focusing on Miho’s every movent. Miho’s reaction had only fueled Ethan’s determination to take the win. This wasn’t just about the ga—it was about proving that he could stand toe-to-toe with the best.
From the sidelines, Ryan, who had been watching intently, leaned toward Lucas. "Damn, he really is good. You were right. Ethan’s got skills."
Lucas, a subtle grin creeping up on his face, nodded, his confidence in Ethan only growing. "I told you. He’s got what it takes."
Coonie, who had been silent up until now, spoke with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. "I don’t know if he’s a prodigy or a monster..." He shook his head, watching Ethan with an expression that suggested he was still trying to comprehend the full extent of Ethan’s abilities.
Armi Hassuf, the shooting guard from Eastgate Wildcats, leaned in from the sidelines, his arms crossed as he analyzed the situation. He had seen a lot of basketball in his ti—players with raw talent, ga-changing moves, and impossible shots. But what he was witnessing from Ethan was sothing entirely different. "Correction," Armi said, shaking his head. "He’s a genius."
Armi had never seen a player like Ethan before—his unpredictability, his calculated moves, and the way he read the ga felt eerily similar to the legendary "Gods" team that had dominated the region a few years ago. However, the Gods had mysteriously not played in the last season due to so unforeseen reason. Ethan reminded Armi of that group—players who weren’t just talented but were able to shift the ga’s very dynamic. Ethan was no longer an ordinary; he was sothing more—sothing unpredictable, and that was the most dangerous thing of all.
As the ga progressed, it beca clear to everyone watching that this one-on-one wasn’t just a battle for bragging rights. It was a clash of two completely different mindsets: Miho’s cold, calculated technique and Ethan’s unpredictable genius. And as each minute ticked by, Miho’s frustration mounted, while Ethan’s confidence seed to grow stronger with every successful move.
....
As I stood there with the ball, I could feel the intensity of the mont. Miho was already in my head, trying to read my next move. But now it was my turn to take control of the ga.
"My turn," I said, my voice steady as I eyed Miho. His frustration was starting to show, and I knew this was the mont to take advantage of it.
I made a quick hesitation dribble, pausing just for a split second before making my move. It was a classic Hesi, a move I’d been working on for a long ti (14 years old Jonathan Brandit). The goal wasn’t to just throw Miho off—it was to make him hesitate, give him a glimpse of what was coming and then change it up entirely.
Miho bit. "You..." he muttered, caught completely off guard by my sudden stop and go.
I could see it. Miho’s brain was fogged by his frustration. He was angry, and that clouded his judgnt. It was the perfect ti to exploit it.
In that mont, I thought to myself, "(Idiot. Due to his frustration, his brain can’t function the way it usually does.)" The opening was there, and I wasn’t going to waste it.
I quickly transitioned into the Pullback Dribble, stepping backward with the ball, creating just enough space between Miho and . I could see Miho’s body shifting forward, trying to react to my hesitation, but he was already too far gone. He jumped in an attempt to block my shot, but instead of moving in, I backed away just enough to force him off the ground.
The crowd gasped. Miho was literally off the ground, out of position, and for a brief mont, the gym felt like it was frozen in ti.
The eyes of every player and spectator in the gym were locked on the court, waiting to see what would happen next. I didn’t waste any ti. With Miho in the air and out of position, I took the shot.
The ball soared through the air with precision, and as it swished through the net, the crowd erupted.
"Ohhhhh!" The sound of the crowd’s collective astonishnt echoed through the gym.
"Did Miho get dropped on the ground?" Davis Conner, the powerful and reliable forward from Eastgate Wildcats, said incredulously, his jaw nearly hitting the floor.
Armi Hassuf, one of Miho’s teammates, gulped, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Yeah, looks like it," he replied, not quite able to process what had just happened.
On the sidelines, Ryan grinned from ear to ear. "Serves him right, kekekeke," he said, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of events.
Lucas, who had been watching intently, simply muttered, "Ethan..." He was both impressed and surprised, his faith in Ethan’s abilities reinforced by what he had just witnessed.
Evan, acting as the referee, stood frozen for a mont, clearly shocked by what had just unfolded. "I... I didn’t expect that..." he mumbled under his breath.
Brandon Young, the towering center from Vorpal Basket, stared at the court, his voice full of astonishnt. "He dropped Miho??" His tone was a mix of disbelief and respect.
Kai ndoza and Jeremy Park, two of the key players from the Vorpal team, looked at each other, their mouths wide open. The ga had just taken a sharp turn, and neither of them could fully comprehend what had just transpired.
It was a mont that would stick with everyone in the gym for a long ti. Ethan Albarado had just dropped Miho Park—the sa Miho Park who was known as a prodigy, a player with nearly flawless skills. And now, Ethan had exposed a vulnerability that no one had seen coming. The ga had shifted, and it was clear to everyone watching that this wasn’t just any ordinary match.
The gym buzzed in disbelief. Even the air felt heavier, charged with energy.
Miho stood up quickly, brushing the back of his jersey with one hand and gritting his teeth. His pride stung far worse than the fall.
"What the...!" Miho muttered, still stunned. His eyes burned with determination and frustration as he snapped,
"I can’t accept this. Let’s run it back—now!"
But before they could resu, a sudden voice sliced through the noise:
"What’s going on with this ss?"
Everyone turned toward the entrance.
Standing tall with crossed arms and a cold stare was none other than Charlotte Graves, a striking 15-year-old girl with short-black hair, beautiful silver eyes, and a commanding presence. Her Oak Hill Academy blazer hung off one shoulder like she didn’t even need it to flex her authority.
The murmurs started instantly.
"It’s Charlotte..."
"Charlotte...!"
"The captain of the Thunderhawks!"
Ryan’s voice echoed over the chatter, "Charlotte! The captain of the Thunderhawks... my idol... the goddess..." he said, practically sparkling like an ani fanboy, heart-shaped eyes and all.
Then Lucas, surprisingly calm, said, "Sis."
The entire gym froze. Even the basketball stopped bouncing.
"S-Sis?!" Ryan exploded.
"She’s your sister?!"
Even the Eastgate players were stunned.
Coonie, arms folded, raised an eyebrow. "Dumb shit... of course she is. Look at her last na: Graves."
Everyone suddenly paused as if their brains were buffering, then slowly nodded.
"Ohhhhhh..."
Yeah. Now that they thought about it... the last na Graves, the sa intense eyes, the posture—it all made sense.
But only Ethan stood calm and unfazed, watching everything unfold.
"(Charlotte Graves... the sister of Lucas Graves. I already knew this from the novel. And I know what’s going to happen next... she’s going to—)" Ethan thought, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if watching pieces of a story fall perfectly into place.
While Ethan was still thinking, Ryan erupted again, practically grabbing Lucas by the shoulders. "She’s your real sister?!"
Coonie gave him a well-earned smack on the back of the head.
"YES, YOU IDIOT! Look at them! They even breathe the sa way!"
Charlotte, anwhile, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in frustration.
"I asked first—why are you all here? And why is there a student from another school in this gym?"
Her tone had authority. The kind that could silence a whole classroom with just a look.
Evan, as acting referee and captain of Vorpal, stepped forward awkwardly and said,
"Uhm... Wildcats kinda challenged us... and Miho—their captain—wanted to play... and now it’s turned into a 1v1 with Ethan."
Miho scoffed.
"Can we just continue the ga?"
Charlotte’s eyes locked onto Miho like laser sights.
"This isn’t your school, bastard."
The room went ice cold.
Miho turned, flas in his eyes.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ?"
Armi quickly stepped in, raising both his hands in a diplomatic gesture, trying to cool the rising tension.
"Now now, Captain... calm down. We’re guests here, rember?"
His voice was calm, but firm, like soone who knew Miho well enough to keep him from boiling over. Even though Miho’s pride had taken a heavy hit, Armi’s words kept him from blowing up in front of everyone.
Charlotte didn’t flinch. Her cold, commanding gaze stayed locked on Miho, then shifted briefly to the rest of Vorpal Basket before returning to address the whole gym.
"You lot already know the rules," she said, her voice sharp and precise. "No unsanctioned gas against other school players on campus. Unless it’s an official scrimmage or a practice session approved by both coaches, it’s not allowed. If you really want to settle sothing..." she paused, pointing toward the exit,
"...take it outside."
The air went still. The squeaks of sneakers and basketballs had all faded. You could hear soone gulp in the back. Every player in the gym was silent—not because they were afraid, but because Charlotte’s presence had that kind of weight. Her authority wasn’t forced; it was earned.
Then she looked Miho dead in the eyes.
"Now, think about this—if soone walks in right now and reports this, would you all be in trouble?"
Miho gritted his teeth, clearly suppressing his frustration.
"Tsk..." He looked away, knowing she was right.
And just like that, the 1v1 ga that had everyone on edge was officially canceled—with the scoreboard in the court of public opinion showing Ethan Albarado leading 1–2.
There was no arguing that. Ethan had bested Miho. Even if the ga didn’t finish, the crowd, Vorpal, Eastgate, and even Thunderhawks had seen enough.
But Miho didn’t walk away quietly.
"It’s not over yet," he said firmly, his voice echoing off the walls as he turned back to Ethan.
"We settle this in a real ga."
The way he said it didn’t sound like a threat. It sounded like a promise.
He turned on his heel and began walking toward the exit, fire in his eyes but his head held high. His pride was hurt but not crushed.
As he reached the bench, he grabbed his duffel bag and threw on his varsity jacket with sharp, fluid movents. Without even looking back, he called out to his teammates:
"Armi. David. Let’s go."
Armi and Davis Conner, Eastgate’s strong, silent power forward—nodded imdiately, already packing up.
"Yes, Captain."
Their voices were in sync. They respected Miho not just as a player, but as a leader. No matter what had happened, he still carried himself with that sa tenacity.
The Eastgate Wildcats exited the gym in single file, leaving a trail of silence behind them.
But that silence didn’t last long.
Because everyone knew.
This wasn’t the end.
It was just the beginning of sothing much bigger.
And all eyes were now on Ethan Albarado—the boy who dropped a prodigy.
To be continue
Reviews
All reviews (0)