Chapter 386: Not All Dogs Go To Heaven

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HERE ARE YOUR STARTERS FOR TONIGHT!"

The announcer started calling out the Dust Dogs. Every time a name hit the mic, the crowd just rained down boos, with a few people laughing at them. It was obvious nobody gave a shit about them. The players could feel it, and it felt like a heavy weight on their chests. They looked at the center circle where the game would start, feeling nervous as hell because they knew their fate was basically sealed.

Then it was Blacklist’s turn.

"At power forward, one meter ninety-three of pure terror, JAAAZ!"

The whole arena literally shook. Jaz rolled her shoulders, a smug, mocking little smile on her face. She loved hearing how much the crowd feared her.

"At center, our defensive beast, REI!"

Rei didn’t even look at the screaming fans. She just cracked her knuckles one by one, her eyes locked on the court. She was already in the zone.

"In the backcourt, the smallest frame in the league, but she hits the highest shots, MIKOOO!"

Miko pushed her glasses up her nose. She looked a bit annoyed that the announcer mentioned her height, but the fans cheering for her made her feel better. She straightened up, ready to go.

"At small forward, our versatile playmaker, AIKOOO!"

Aiko bounced on her toes, a proud little smile on her lips. The crowd was going wild—some people were probably fainting from excitement. She tilted her chin up, feeling herself.

"And finally, at point guard, the man the entire Underground has been waiting for. The handsome. The beast. The phenomenon... NAAASH BLAZE!"

The roar that followed was so loud it made the metal stands vibrate. Thousands of phones went up at once. People wanted a picture of Nash because he’d basically broken social media. For real Breakball fans, any game he played in was a massive event.

Nash didn’t even flinch. He just walked calmly toward the center circle.

Roam walked up to face him.

They stared at each other for a second. Roam was a mess—tense, jaw clenched tight, body stiff as a board. Nash, on the other hand, looked like he didn’t even care. He was totally relaxed.

The ref stepped between them, holding the ball.

Roam bent his legs, ready to jump. His heart was hammering in his chest. He really thought this was the moment everything would change. No more doubts, no more worrying. This was supposed to be the match of his life.

But.

The ball went up.

Both guys jumped at the same time.

And Nash touched the ball first. Easily. Way too fucking easy. He didn’t even have to stretch his arm all the way. He was ten centimeters taller than Roam, and it showed. Nash slapped the leather of the ball while Roam was still barely halfway up.

Roam landed on the floor, stunned, his mouth hanging open like an idiot.

The ball flew straight to Aiko.

She caught it in one smooth move, then used all the power in her legs to launch herself forward like a red rocket.

"SHIT!" Roam yelled, already scrambling the other way. "STOP HER!"

Tylo tried to get in front of her, shifting his feet quickly to block her path.

Aiko didn’t even slow down. She did a low, fast crossover, snapping the ball from one hand to the other between her legs. Tylo got completely erased. His weight shifted the wrong way, and he was suddenly guarding empty air where Aiko had been a split second before.

She passed it to Miko.

Miko didn’t even look for a shot. She didn’t hesitate for a second. She already knew exactly what was happening. These girls were so synced up they didn’t even need to talk to know the plan.

She threw an immediate alley-oop. Jaz was already in the air.

Jaz had a monstrous jump. She flew way above the rim, her head clearing the orange hoop easily.

She caught the ball mid-air, passed it between her legs in a flash, and...

*SLAM.*

The rim shook violently. The backboard trembled with a low metallic rumble that echoed through the whole hangar before the crowd even realized what happened.

2-0.

The crowd exploded.

On the Blacklist bench, the girls jumped up, screaming and slapping hands.

On the Dust Dogs bench, Vargas half-rose from his wheelchair, despite his broken legs. His mouth was wide open, but no sound came out.

Roam turned around, looking for Saya. He looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Saya, who was further away, looked at him for a second and then just started jogging again, acting like she didn’t give a fuck.

Roam’s lips trembled. He realized what was coming.

The rest of the quarter wasn’t even a game. It was a demolition. The physical gap between the two teams was just absurd to watch. It didn’t even seem real, but it made sense.

Rei took over the paint by the second minute. She planted herself in front of her defender and just rammed into her, shoulder to shoulder. It was a brutal hit that sent the other girl staggering back, almost falling over. The ref blew the whistle for a foul, but it didn’t even slow the game down.

Kej tried to stand up to Jaz. Once.

He got under the rim, legs bent, ready to take the hit.

Jaz drove into him with so much force it actually surprised him. The ref called an offensive foul on her, but Kej ended up flat on his ass, nose bleeding, clutching his face. He looked completely lost.

"Oh, come on! I barely touched him," Jaz complained, spreading her arms. "I’ve never seen guys this fragile. Fucking pathetic."

Kej stayed on his knees for a moment, staring at the blood dripping onto the polished floor. He couldn’t believe it.

A girl had just hurt him? Since when were girls this solid?

The plays just kept coming faster and faster. Every time Blacklist stole the ball, the other team got slower and more hesitant. Rin, Kej, and Tylo started looking at each other in panic. They weren’t just tired; they were mentally broken.

Rin finally tried to do something. She forced a tiny opening and ripped a three-pointer. Her form was perfect, but the ball bounced off the rim and went straight into Rei’s hands. Rei didn’t even have to move to get it.

Rei passed it immediately to Nash, who found himself face to face with Roam.

Roam was sweating buckets, arms spread wide in a defensive stance, his whole body shaking.

Nash barely even looked at him. He moved right. Roam followed.

A cold breath of air hit Roam’s right armpit the exact moment Nash released the ball—a behind-the-back pass that was invisible until the last second. The ball landed perfectly in Aiko’s hands as she charged toward the basket.

Roam stayed frozen, completely stunned.

Nash walked past him, not even rushing.

"You knew it was going to go like this," Nash said, his voice low and bored.

Roam clenched his teeth, unable to say a word.

On the other side of the court, Miko caught Aiko’s pass and shot.

*Swish.*

Nash kept talking, ignoring the game because he knew they had already won.

"I wasn’t expecting anything today, you know, but I’m still disappointed that you seriously bet everything on my mercy," Nash said, shifting his position. "I thought I’d seen the worst the day your girl came looking for me to come back with me, but you always find a way to do worse."

"Shut up," Roam spat, his voice sounding strangled.

"And otherwise," Nash continued, totally unbothered, "what are you planning to do?"

Roam stared at him with pure hatred, but he stayed silent. His fists were trembling at his sides, the humiliation burning in his throat more than the lack of air.

Just as Nash predicted, the ball came back to them. Rin tried a risky pass to Tylo on the wing. Aiko read it before the ball even left Rin’s hand, stepping forward to cut it off while Rei blocked any escape. Aiko snatched the ball cleanly and whipped it to Nash, who caught it without even turning his head.

"That’s what I thought," Nash said with a shrug. He bounced the ball in front of him, facing Roam again.

"The only real skill you’ve ever had is watching. Watching your team collapse. Watching people insult you. Watching your girlfriend get railed by anyone who wanted her."

Roam felt something tear in his chest. It wasn’t physical pain, but it felt like it. He wanted to scream, to spit something back, but his throat was knotted tight.

"In the end, that day in the locker room," Nash continued, "you lied to yourself. You never offered me a mercy ride. You just wanted to live your favorite little fantasy."

Roam clenched his fists, shaking with rage.

"So go ahead," Nash said, a light smile appearing. "Don’t stop while you’re on a roll. Enjoy."

He hit Roam with a destructive crossover that made Roam’s ankle just give out. The man collapsed heavily onto his ass.

"F-FUCK!" Roam screamed.

Nash walked past him without even looking down.

"Stay seated and watch," Nash said simply. "While we stretch your teammates’ asses apart."

He headed back to the front.

Roam stayed on the floor, trembling and short of breath, his mind a blur. He couldn’t even get up right away.

Nash spent the rest of the quarter as a pure point guard, throwing passes with insulting precision. He wasn’t even trying to be spectacular; he was just efficient.

The score climbed fast. 18-0. Then 32-0.

On the Dust Dogs bench, the panic really set in. Vargas stared at the scoreboard, gripping the armrests of his wheelchair.

In the stands, the excitement started to fade. The score hit 39-0, and a weird discomfort spread through the crowd.

"Fuck, this isn’t even funny anymore," someone said.

"I bet ten credits on the Dust Dogs," another guy groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I just wanted them to score TEN points. I feel like a fucking idiot."

"Seriously, this is getting weird to watch," a girl said. "This isn’t just a game anymore. This is the kind of humiliation that marks you for life."

"Are they even going to score a single point, or what?" a man asked.

It didn’t get any better.

Toward the end of the quarter, Victoria signaled from the bench, and Nia, Kai, and Alicia entered the game to replace Aiko, Miko, and Jaz.

It got even worse.

Kai played in the paint like a firework, her jump getting higher every time. She exhausted Tylo and Kej, who had to run and jump nonstop just to try and keep up. Rin, completely out of breath, eventually raised her hand toward the bench, silently begging to be taken out.

But Vargas was terrified. He didn’t even dare put his substitutes in. None of them had ever actually played. Zero experience. Zero skill. And facing them, Blacklist had two scoring machines and an unkillable small forward.

The score kept climbing. 56-0. 67-0.

The buzzer finally sounded, ending the second quarter.

72-0.

The scoreboard blinked, almost as if the machine itself was embarrassed to show such an obscene number.

Nash stopped at center court, barely wiping the sweat from his forehead. His eyes were empty. No joy, no triumph. Just a cold, mechanical calm.

He looked over at Roam, who was leaning on his knees, breathing heavily, lungs on fire, staring into nothing.

Nash walked up to him, stopping just close enough so only Roam could hear him.

"So," Nash said, his voice still calm. "For the second period, you prefer we keep going with our starters, or should we go without?"

Roam barely raised his eyes, unable to answer.