CHAPTER 218: CHAPTER 205: ETHAN VS DARIUS

Ethan bounced the ball at the top of the key, his breath steady despite the pounding in his chest. The asphalt was hot under his sneakers, the smell of sweat and faint dust lingering in the summer air. Darius was crouched low, arms spread, his eyes locked in.

"Alright... time to turn that dream into reality," Ethan thought, his hands shifting into a slower rhythm dribble. His gaze softened—not because he wasn’t paying attention, but because the Lucid Awareness Engine was already mapping Darius’s micro-movements: the twitch in his left calf, the fraction of weight shifted forward.

He jab-stepped right. Darius didn’t bite.

"He’s disciplined. But I know that stance. He’s ready to cut my drive—so I’ll make him want to."

Ethan exploded left, a clean first step—Celestial Crossover snapping gravity like an elastic band. Darius’s feet slid just enough for Ethan to slip inside, but instead of going straight to the rim, Ethan slowed, stepping back in one fluid pivot.

Kobe Fadeaway EX.

The ball left his fingertips with that legendary, impossible arc. Swish.

Louie’s voice rang out: "Fourteen–ten."

Darius grabbed the ball and chuckled, shaking his head. "you are really stronger compare to those video I seen."

"Well...I’ve been training," Ethan replied, smiling faintly.

Darius’s possession.

He came in hard, pounding the ball three times before launching into a spin—the same one that got him the last bucket. But Ethan’s Absolute Court Vision had already painted the move before it happened. He slid into Darius’s landing spot, chest firm, forcing him mid-air to twist awkwardly.

The layup clanked. Rebound—Ethan.

Ethan pulled back beyond the arc. Darius was late to close the gap. "Two points for a three... let’s make this hurt."

With Sharpshooter’s Soul, Ethan replicated Ray Allen’s quick release—the ball snapping out before Darius could even contest.

Swish.

"Seventeen–ten."

Darius was breathing heavier now. Still dangerous, still in it. He attacked again, this time faking left and taking a hard right baseline. Ethan stayed close, but Darius used his shoulder to shield and finished a tough reverse.

Seventeen–eleven.

Ethan’s ball.

"(I need three to win. Don’t give him a single opening.)"

He walked it up slowly, testing dribbles, until the Phantom Flow State settled in—movements effortless, body light.

Ankle Breaker Supreme.

The rhythm of the dribble fractured, then snapped—ball bouncing just off-tempo enough to throw Darius’s internal timing into chaos. A sudden crossover left him stumbling, one hand touching the ground.

Ethan stepped back beyond the arc. Wide open.

Perfect Power Shot.

The ball cut through the air like a laser net barely moved.

Louie’s voice cracked with excitement: "Game! Twenty–eleven!"

Ethan exhaled, letting the ball fall into his hands again. "(That’s the result of my training... and my dream)."

Darius laughed, walking over for the handshake. "Guess I underestimated you."

"Guess you did," Ethan said, smiling already thinking about the next challenge.

"YES!" Louie exploded, leaping from the bench. "That’s my boy! I told you, I told you, Ethan’s the real deal!"

Lucas crossed his arms, but the smirk on his face was impossible to hide. "Guess he is still not rusty."

Ryan just shook his head with a half-smile. "Calm down, Louie. You’ll give yourself a heart attack before the real season even starts."

Brandon clapped slowly, his voice quiet but firm. "Solid game."

Josh folded his arms, eyeing Ethan. "Heh ...I could do that... on occasion"

Aiden gave a thumbs-up, grinning. "Looked like you had fun out there. Keep that up."

From the bench, Coonie whistled. "Pfft, show-off. But fine... you did good, Ethan."

Jeremy was already muttering numbers to himself. "Twenty points in a one-on-one, shooting percentage around eighty... if that translates to a full game, he’s a scoring machine."

Kai slapped Brandon’s arm. "Man, that was awesome! You guys feel that? We’re gonna crush it this season!"

On the sideline, Coach Fred Mason stood with arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Looks like all that training’s paying off, Ethan."

But right beside him, Coach Ron Darius’s coach kept his expression unreadable, though his thoughts were far from calm.

(Ethan Albarado... truly a genius. I’ll admit it now. This match against my team... it’s going to be hard. Very hard.)

Ethan, still catching his breath, glanced at Darius. The taller boy had a faint grin despite losing.

Darius said simply. "Next time, though... I’m taking the win."

Ethan smirked back. "Then you’d better train harder. Because I’m only getting better."

That statement hung in the air, sharp and confident. A few Vorpal teammates whistled in approval from the sidelines. Louie pumped his fist. Brandon gave a rare nod.

From the corner, Lucas Graves stepped forward, spinning a basketball lazily in his hand as his yellow eyes gleamed with interest. He stopped beside Darius, his expression unreadable for a moment then he grinned.

"How about a match with me... Ethan."

The words caught Ethan’s attention instantly. His smirk widened, tilting into something a little more playful but no less competitive.

"Hoh... seems like someone’s eager to show his skill." Ethan’s voice carried a teasing edge.

Lucas shrugged with mock innocence, still bouncing the ball with casual rhythm. "Can’t help it... it feels like you became much stronger than before." His gaze sharpened, his grin turning sly. "Can a comatose patient become that much stronger...? Are you training in your dreams or something?"

Ethan froze for half a second just a flicker before his eyes narrowed. Inside, his thoughts clicked into place. (Damn... as expected of the protagonist, he’s really sharp.)

But on the outside, he only let the grin return wide, shameless, and borderline cocky. "Well... I don’t know. I guess I’m just that guy."

Manager Ayumi muttered under her breath, "Here we go... ego wars, round two."

The tension between them was electric part rivalry, part mutual respect. The Vorpal team leaned in, sensing the sparks. Even the benchwarmers like Kai Mendoza and Coonie Smith stopped chatting to watch the exchange.

This wasn’t just talk. This was the setup for something bigger.

To be continue