Inside the gymnasium, the stands were packed, with even more people crowding along the edges, creating layers of spectators surrounding Whitewall Mountain’s court.
“The players from Eastwest are so handsome!”
“They’re trending on Eastwest’s BBS right now! Have you read that novel? It’s super popular online!”
“Go, Orson!”
The buzzing conversations never ceased, and Orson’s fans were particularly vocal, loudly cheering his name without any regard for supporting the home team.
Both teams had finished changing into their uniforms and were warming up.
Asake and Lucas sat on the sidelines, showing no intention of playing.
Whitewall Mountain was, after all, a basketball powerhouse. Facing a “trash” team like Eastwest, the idea of losing was laughable.
But as they watched the short, scrawny number 7 lazily tightening the red ribbon on her wrist, and then the youth who exuded a natural regal air even while sitting, they couldn’t help but feel an unshakable sense of unease creeping in.
This was Eastwest— a team that in past years hadn’t even qualified to appear in the national league!
“Line up!”
The referee’s voice cut through their chaotic thoughts. Once both sides had formed their lineups, the whistle signaling the start of the game pierced the air. At the same time, the basketball was tossed high into the air between the two teams.
Light gleamed off the edges of the brown basketball, tracing a faint, blurred outline.
“You guessed right.”
George was the first to jump, effortlessly catching the ball. “I joined the basketball team to play with her.”
His blue hair fluttered as the contrast between his white jersey and the brown basketball created a striking visual. Without hesitation, he passed the ball to Avira, his black-blue eyes brimming with trust.
“Go for it, Avira.”
“Ah…”
Avira curled her lips into a lazy smirk, her expression seemingly unguarded yet exuding a sinister charm. It was as if a beautiful, venomous white snake was coiled behind her, ready to devour any obstacle in its path.
“Don’t make it too easy for me to win, little kittens.”
She dribbled the ball swiftly, weaving past her opponents before they had any chance to react. Her speed was astonishing. Though her movements appeared casual and languid, they carried a sharp, unrelenting edge that left her opponents scrambling.
Like a flash of lightning, she cut into the paint.
The Whitewall Mountain players never expected such skill from her. Before they could recover, they watched in shock as she leaped high with the ball and slammed it powerfully into the hoop!
Eastwest scored first!
And more shocking than the perfect dunk was that it came from a player barely 170 centimeters tall. The entire crowd fell into a stunned silence, all eyes fixed on Avira’s nonchalant demeanor.
The brown ball bounced on the floor as Whitewall Mountain’s players finally snapped back to their senses. By then, Avira had already returned to her position.
That eerie speed and presence…
Could that small player be possessed by Nightrius?
Sitting on the sidelines, Sam Yanzi’s expression also reflected his astonishment.
If Asake’s arrival had already surprised him, then the performance of this seemingly unassuming player was downright unbelievable.
Eastwest’s small forward, number 7—Avira—was someone completely unheard of in basketball circles.
Scoring so decisively with the first play immediately dampened Whitewall Mountain’s morale. But as athletes with pride, they wouldn’t allow themselves to lose so easily. Despite their uncertainty, they began putting all their effort into blocking Eastwest’s offense.
George’s abilities were well-known to them, but simply knowing wasn’t enough to stop him!
Whitewall Mountain’s players managed to break through Eastwest’s defense and cut into the paint. George was already stationed there, waiting.
A few steps away from him, one of Whitewall Mountain’s players bent his legs and jumped, thinking that his sudden, unpredictable move might earn him a point against George.
“That’s going to get blocked!”
As his teammates shouted warnings, George, who jumped later, had already risen higher. Just as the ball left the opponent’s hand, he slammed it down with force, executing a powerful block!
“George, as dashing as ever,” Orson teased, skillfully dribbling the ball. His smile was like a mischievous sprite of the night, but his tone carried genuine delight and admiration.
George nodded slightly, long accustomed to Orson’s playful remarks. But thanks to their recent training, the growing sense of camaraderie had erased the distance and rejection that once lingered between them.
Shifting his focus, Orson eyed the two Whitewall Mountain players who had once been his teammates. Their faces bore expressions of unmistakable shock. His smile deepened, tinged with a hint of wickedness.
“You guys… still think George and I are the same players we were when we left your team? You’re underestimating us. Nobody… stays stagnant forever.”
After all, if you want to be with someone important to you, you have to get stronger!
