CHAPTER 46: NO PULL-OUT, NO BACK DOWN

Nash didn’t have time to make the boy shut up before the noise exploded.

"Holy... Yo, is that Blaze?!"

"Blaze’s back? Hey, he’s here!"

"No way... yo, Blaze actually pulled up!"

One guy threw his hands in the air, nearly knocking his friend’s phone out. Another girl with blue braids and a busted tooth slapped her friend’s chest like she just saw the Messiah.

"Man, I told y’all! I TOLD y’all he was gonna show!"

"You’re late as hell, Blaze, but thank fuck you came!"

Nash exhaled. He was cooked. All eyes were already locked onto him: street kids, side crews, old rivals, random fangirls, probably future conquests... the crowd was a pack of wolves and he was the most delicious lamb.

But it wasn’t just him.

The wave shifted fast. Stares, gasps, then dead silence.

Zayela stepped forward, intrigued by the stir Nash caused.

All eyes switched to her before she even spoke.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Bro... I’m gonna bark."

"What the f... I mean... Oh my..."

"Who brought a goddess into the courtyard?"

She was a nuclear bomb. The kind that made men forget how to breathe.

Even some girls were frozen, blinking, eyes wide in part fear, part envy, part confusion.

A few boys couldn’t help themselves. They approached, casual but hungry.

"Yo, hey—what’s your name?"

"You new around here? Of course you are. No way we’d forget a girl like you."

"You ain’t like the others. Damn."

Their voices overlapped, playful and leaning too close. Girls nearby rolled their eyes, annoyed by the sudden switch in spotlight. Zayela stiffened under the attention, not used to being hounded. Her hand fidgeted at her side as she tried to smile, unsure how to respond.

Nash didn’t like the boys’ reaction and quickly stepped forward. His arm slipped smoothly around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Back off, creeps, she’s not here for any of you."

The boys blinked, taken aback. One chuckled nervously.

"Man, we just talking—"

"Don’t," Nash cut in. His eyes locked on the guy’s. "She’s with me."

The challenge sat there, lingering just long enough to spark a charge in the air.

The boys backed off, annoyed but grinning, forced to respect the shutdown.

Zayela blinked, caught off guard. The way Nash had stepped in, cool, protective, zero hesitation, it sent a small jolt up her spine. Again. It was the second time he’d shielded her like this, and something about it stirred her.

She smiled, softly. Said nothing. Just enjoyed the moment.

Around them, a few girls giggled and exchanged looks. The alpha was in the yard, and it wasn’t a children’s game anymore.

"Boo, Blaze gets all the pussy now."

"You were one of us, you bastard."

"Just because you’re better than us doesn’t mean you own the world."

But they were already backing off. Respect mixed with resentment. That dangerous balance the streets always walked.

Across the court, Blacklist had noticed too.

Jinzo’s grin widened like a wolf catching scent.

"Well, well, well," he murmured, licking his lips. "Look who finally decided to show his ghost face."

Jaz, quieter, narrowed her eyes. Something about Nash looked... different. He was more muscular and taller.

"Did he... bulk up?" she muttered.

Nia didn’t say a word.

She stood arms crossed, heels planted, eyes locked on Nash like she was analyzing a new piece of meat.

She’d been pissed the whole day, ghosted after inviting him personally, and she was ready to confront a cocky bastard today. But now... here he was.

Body better, face dazzling, taller, he looked like he could lift her and walk her around like a toy.

Her tongue slid along her lower lip without her realizing.

"...Maybe I won’t kill him just yet."

A sharp heel struck the pavement. The sound cut through the chatter.

The crowd turned.

The woman with pale yellow-blonde hair and long legs stepped forward from the sidelines. Her sleek glasses caught the fading sun, and her presence sent a subtle shiver through the group.

"Finally," she said. "You show your face."

Nash’s gaze flicked up, cautious.

She stared at him, not like Nia, not like girls who undressed him with their eyes. This was surgical. Every inch of him was being scanned, measured, and dissected for value.

She spoke again, slower.

"Tendon alignment... clean, ideal for fast, sharp movements. Muscle density in the legs and shoulders, built for repeated impact. Arm length’s just right for deceptive passes and reach control. You’ve got a hell of a body."

She stopped in front of him and smirked.

"You’re the one."

Nash blinked.

"The one... for what? What the hell’s going on here?"

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly behind her glasses.

"Nothing important. Just a side note in my schedule. I spent months building something. Raised it, trained it, shaped it, got its name. Then, just as I was finalizing my letter..."

She pushed her glasses down, revealing striking azurine eyes.

"I get word that my squad lost so badly... they surrendered. What a catastrophe."

Nash went still. He had enough hints to understand.

Blacklist. Her work. Letter...

"Oh..."

His eyes narrowed.

She was their manager.

She straightened and crossed her arms, her forearms pressing lightly under her generous chest.

"It’s hard to believe," she said, "that someone caused that much damage... while never even trying to score."

The crowd shifted. Nash felt their attention bounce between them.

She continued, rising one eyebrow.

"You must be very confident."

Nash frowned. Confident? Not exactly. He hadn’t tried to score for one simple reason: he was awful at it. He was bad before and his system just showed him how pointless it would be.

But now? With his new stats... with Disorder Shoot? Maybe...

"Yeah," he said. "I played a role in that asswhooping. Now what?"

Her pupils narrowed just slightly. It was like her brain clicked into a new gear.

"Now," she said, "I want to see it with my own eyes. Play. Go against them again. Show me what you can really do."

Nash followed her gaze to the court. Jinzo, cocky as ever. The two NPCs, throwing gang signs and trash talk. All waiting.

So that’s what this was. The reason the system sent him here.

Another match against them. Still it was strange that it brought him here for this specific match.

He used to have a word to say in his choice of opponents.

From here, his choice was obvious, and because of that, he thought about a way to make it more entertaining.

He looked back to her, smirking now.

"What’s on the table?" he asked. "I don’t hand out free shows. You want a performance, I need some motivation."

A pause stretched between them, like heat calm before the storm.

The street crowd froze. No one dared speak. Phones stopped recording. It was like time held its breath.

It was hard to describe her expression behind the glasses. Her arms still folded under her chest, chin slightly tilted down.

Nash didn’t flinch either. He knew she wouldn’t go that far just to give up in the end, and he was confident in his ability to make them eat the dust.

For a moment, it was silent warfare.

Then she smiled. A slow, razor-thin curve that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Greedy much, huh? I like that."

She pulled a black card from her blazer pocket and held it in front of her mouth.

"Impress me," she said. "And you get a free entry ticket to the Underleague."

Everything went quiet and the air felt heavy.

People gasped, whispered. It was like a wave passed through the crowd.

Nash was petrified.

This was the chance he used to dream about. The Underleague. The place where real careers started.

Where scouts watched. Where people became legends and could escape from the underworld to see the sun.

It was everything he worked for. Everything he had lost.

Thrown out of his team right before the final step. Just before it all could happen. He lost his team, his respect, his shot at the future. Almost lost Zayela too.

Now, out of nowhere, the chance came back. Like a gift from the sky. A door opening.

He felt it deep inside. It was the moment. The moment that would change his life.

Even the street felt different now. Everyone watching could tell. Things wouldn’t be the same after this.

Nash Blaze was really about to rise.

Zayela stared at him, wide-eyed. She blinked fast, then grabbed his arms.

"Oh my God... Nash! Is that true? Is that really happening?? Nash... this is it! It’s really happening!"

She shook him, bursting in joy and disbelief, but Nash didn’t move.

Slowly, his lips curled into a smile. He nodded slowly.

"Alright."

He turned to the crowd and scanned the street rats. Then he pointed to four guys he trusted. One tall shooter, one fast defender, one with steady hands, and one to fill the number.

People started moving, circling the court. Everyone packed around like it was the final of a season. Some sat on trash bins, others climbed cars or poles to see.

A kid stepped onto the court with the ball. He was maybe fifteen, holding it with both hands.

"Ready?" he asked.

Jinzo stepped up, grinning wide.

"I’m so gonna enjoy this."

Blacklist lined up. Jaz rolled her shoulders. The two extras smirked.

Nash just stared ahead, quiet. His body was there, but his mind was already beyond it.

The ref-boy raised the ball.

"Tip-off. Let’s go."

He tossed it into the air.

Game on.