CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER 204: 1 ON 1 AGAINST ETHAN

Darius’s gaze didn’t waver, his calm expression almost too steady to read.

"I want to play with you," he repeated, pointing directly at Ethan.

"They said... you’re what they call the genius."

The gym seemed to still for a moment. Ryan let out a low whistle.

"One-on-one against Ethan... damn."

Louie stepped forward, cracking his neck with a grin.

"Hey—if you wanna go at Ethan, you gotta go through me first."

Darius didn’t even flinch. His voice was even, like he was stating a fact rather than throwing a challenge.

"I didn’t come here for anyone else."

Ethan’s lips curved into a faint smile.

(This is the perfect time to put my training to use.)

Coach Fred glanced between them, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, looks like we got ourselves a little warm-up before the real drills start."

Ron folded his arms, watching closely, but his eyes flickered briefly toward Ethan.

(Let’s see what you’ve got, kid...)

The ball bounced between Ethan’s hands, the hollow thump-thump echoing through the gym like a countdown.

Across from him, Darius stood loose and calm, knees bent slightly, arms relaxed at his sides, but there was a weight in his gaze steady, unshakable, confident.

"How many points will it take to win?" Ethan asked, rolling the ball from palm to palm.

"Twenty points," Darius replied without hesitation. "One point for a normal shot, two for a three-pointer."

Ryan muttered from the sideline, "This is gonna be fun."

Louie crossed his arms, grinning. "If Ethan wins, dinner’s on Darius."

Coach Fred gave a small chuckle but stayed silent. Ron leaned against the wall, eyes sharp, soaking in every detail. (He’s got skill, but let’s see how he handles real pressure.)

Darius said with a grin "You go first"

Ethan nodded and said with a smile "alright"

Then the match began.

Ethan dribbled forward slowly, rocking the ball between his hands, eyes locked on Darius. The gym was quiet except for the sharp squeak of sneakers on polished wood. Darius’s stance was textbook low hips, bent knees, arms slightly spread, gaze fixed not on the ball, but on Ethan’s torso.

(He’s disciplined... he won’t bite on feints easily.)

Ethan jab-stepped right, then pushed the ball left into a quick crossover. Darius didn’t flinch—he mirrored the move with ease, his center of gravity never wavering.

"You’ll have to do better than that." Darius said evenly.

Ethan smirked, stepped back hard to the two-point line, and let it fly. The ball arced high and clean—swish.

"One–zero!" Ryan called out.

(Good start... but he didn’t even contest that. He’s gauging me.)

Darius took the ball at the top of the key, dribbling once before exploding forward. His first step was lightning quick, Ethan’s feet scrambled, but he stayed in front. Darius’s crossover was tight, shoulder dipping low, the ball nearly brushing the floor. Ethan shuffled quickly enough to stay chest-to-chest, but when he leaned in, Darius planted, rose, and released a mid-range jumper. The shot was smooth, unhurried swish.

"One–one." Ryan called again.

(He’s quick... he’s testing my lateral speed just like I tested his shooting range.)

Ethan faked a slow walk-up, then suddenly burst to the right. Darius slid with him, but Ethan stopped short and spun back left. The ball skimmed the hardwood during a behind-the-back crossover before Ethan drove into the lane. Darius’s arm reached across to block him, but Ethan used his shoulder to carve space and dropped in a floating layup off the glass.

"He’s sharper than before." Lucas muttered.

Darius didn’t waste a second. A hard jab left made Ethan lean, and in that split-second, Darius spun right, powering toward the hoop. Ethan recovered well, contesting at the rim, but Darius’s strength showed, he absorbed the contact and banked it in.

(He’s got weight on me... can’t give him the lane.)

Ethan brought the ball up again, rocking side to side with a tight crossover. Instead of stepping back, he burst toward the left baseline. Darius moved to cut him off—Ethan stopped cold, pivoted, and nailed a fading jumper from mid-range.

"That’s it! Keep him chasing you!" Louie shouted.

Darius faked a drive next, hopping toward the free-throw line. The move pulled Ethan’s weight forward, and in that instant, Darius leaned back and drained another jumper.

(His shot form’s too solid... even under pressure.)

Ethan played it casual, bringing the ball up slowly then, without warning, launched a deep three. The ball hit the rim, bounced high, and dropped through.

"Four–three!" Ryan called.

"Damn... cold-blooded." Josh muttered.

Darius answered immediately, driving hard before pulling back at the free-throw line and stepping sideways into a quick jumper. The net barely moved.

"They’re just trading buckets right now." Kai chuckled.

Ethan tested Darius’s reaction with a quick in-and-out dribble. The moment Darius overstepped, Ethan crossed to his right and attacked the paint. He hung in the air just long enough to avoid the swipe of Darius’s hand before laying it softly in.

"He’s way more explosive than before." Evan said, arms crossed.

Darius responded with a more physical approach, backing Ethan down from the top of the key. Ethan tried to hold his ground, but Darius spun sharply, hooking the ball over and in.

"Quiet... just watch." Brandon murmured to Ryan.

Ethan came back with pace, not giving Darius time to settle. He blew past on the right, switching hands mid-air to finish softly with his left.

"What a monster..." Coonie breathed.

Darius slowed things down, dribbling patiently. The moment Ethan shifted his weight, Darius crossed left, spun back right, and pulled up from mid-range swish.

The score in Ryan’s mind read 6–6. Both players were breathing harder now, sweat glistening on their skin.

"Don’t let him breathe, Ethan!" Louie yelled.

"He became so much better compared to before..." Lucas murmured.

"But how? I mean, he was in the hospital back then, remember?" Aiden asked, frowning.

Evan smirked. "Well... it’s Ethan Albarado we’re talking about."

Josh shrugged. "Can’t argue with that."

Kai and Jeremy simply grinned, the air between them thick with tension as the game continued.

Ethan bent forward slightly, palms resting on his knees as he caught his breath. Darius was doing the same, but his eyes never left Ethan’s.

(He’s not winded enough... he’s pacing himself. If I try to go all-out now, he’ll wait for me to burn out.)

Ryan bounced the ball back to Ethan. "Your ball."

Ethan nodded, dribbling slow at first, testing the weight in his legs. He stepped right—hard forcing Darius to slide, then spun left, the ball snapping low past his hip. Darius recovered instantly.

(No opening... fine, I’ll create one.)

Ethan faked a drive, stepped back behind the arc, and let it fly. The shot kissed the front rim, bounced high, and dropped in.

Ryan said "Eight–six, Ethan."

Darius smirked as he took the ball. "Nice one. Don’t think you can spam that."

Ethan only smiled back, rolling his shoulders.

Darius dribbled forward with patience this time, rocking the ball between his hands.

Suddenly, he lunged in a blur of muscle and intent. Ethan tried to cut him off, but Darius’s shoulder bumped him just enough to clear space. Layup, clean off the glass.

Ryan said look at Ethan "Eight–seven."

(Strong drive... he’s mixing power with precision. If I match him physically every time, I’ll drain faster.)

Ethan attacked next with a hesitation dribble, his eyes locked on Darius’s midsection. He feinted left, cut right—then, at the last second, rose for a floater over Darius’s outstretched arm. Swish.

Ryan said "Ten–seven, Ethan."

From the sidelines

Louie cupped his hands: "Again Keep the pace high!"

Aiden leaned on the fence. "Ethan... he’s sharper than before. He’s not just faster, he’s reading Darius.

"

Jeremy nodded. "Yeah... that’s why he is the best"

Coonie crossed his arms. "Well... He doesn’t follow the normal rules."

Josh chuckled. "Again...Can’t argue with that."

Kai and Jeremy just exchanged knowing grins.

Coonie whistled under her breath. "What a monster."

Brandon gave her a side-eye. "Be quiet for a second. This is getting good."

Back on court—

Darius came harder now. He jabbed left, spun right, and rose for a fadeaway jumper. The arc was perfect. Swish.

Ryan said with awe "Ten–nine."

(His balance is insane... barely any wasted motion.)

Ethan’s turn, he blew by Darius with a quick first step, but Darius recovered just in time, forcing Ethan into a reverse layup attempt. It hit the backboard, bounced twice on the rim... and dropped in.

Lucas murmured "Twelve–nine, Ethan."

Darius narrowed his eyes, wiping sweat from his brow. "Alright... no more warm-up."

Ethan grinned. "Bring it."

Darius’s next possession was brutal

three strong dribbles, a sharp spin, and a pump fake that made Ethan twitch. In that split second, Darius stepped in and finished with a two-handed power layup.

Louie murmured "Twelve–ten."

The match had shifted. Every exchange now was sharper, heavier. Both were breathing hard, sweat dripping onto the asphalt. Neither wanted to give the other momentum.

This will be remember throughout history

To be continue