Nash was completely dominating the game, but even with his stats so up, absorbing consecutive hits from seven-foot monsters was starting to wear down his reserves.

The Raptors had finally stopped chasing him like mindless animals. Realizing they couldn’t stop his fluid, unpredictable movements individually, their coach had ordered a brutal, suffocating full-court double-team.

Every time Nash crossed the timeline, Jax and another forward were instantly in his jersey, physical, sweaty, and desperate. They weren’t even trying to steal the ball anymore; they were trying to grind him down to the bone.

Worse, the Raptors began completely ignoring the NPCs, Mac and Jinzo included. They effectively cut off Nash’s passing lanes to Jinzo and Mac, who were already visibly exhausted for some reasons, their shoulders slumped as the sheer physical pressure overwhelmed them.

Nash’s breathing grew heavier, a sharp burn tightening in his lungs. He attempted to execute a lightning-fast crossover to split the double team, but his response time was a fraction of a second too slow. His left pivot foot dragged slightly rather than exploding off the hardwood.

Jax noticed the hesitation, lunging forward to tip the ball away.The loose ball bounced right into the hands of a Raptors guard, who immediately ignited a fast break. Jinzo and Mac tried to hustle back, but they looked like they were running through wet cement, completely outclassed and slow.

The Raptors guard effortlessly drove past Mac, drawing the defense before dropping a flashy, behind-the-back pass to Jax, who rocked the rim with a ferocious two-handed dunk.

Raptors 68 – Blacklist 81.

"What? What’s happening?" Alicia muttered from the bench as she leaned forward. "He’s... He’s slowing down."

"He’s getting tired," Jaz added, as she watched Nash wipe sweat from his eyes. "No matter how strong his body is, those guys are too much for he alone. He can’t keep carrying this weak lineup forever."

On the next possession, Nash tried to organize the offense, but his limbs felt like lead. He fired a quick laser pass toward one of the NPCs cutting to the basket, but the ball lacked its usual pinpoint velocity. It floated just enough for a Raptors defender to read the trajectory, leap into the passing lane, and pick it off cleanly.

The Raptors pushed the pace again. The NPC who turned it over didn’t even attempt to run back, drawing loud boos from the arena. The Raptors swung the ball around the perimeter, completely embarrassing Jinzo with a basic ball-fake before burying a wide-open three-pointer from the corner.

Raptors 72 – Blacklist 81.

"Get those fucking scums off the floor!" a fan roared from the front rows. "They’re completely dragging Blaze down! He’s doing everything out there!"

"Pass the ball to someone who actually knows how to play breakball!" another spectator screamed, venting their frustration at Jinzo and Mac, who looked completely lost.

The arena was in a frenzy. The massive cushion Nash had built was evaporating under the weight of his growing exhaustion and the sheer incompetence of his current teammates. The Raptors smelled blood in the water.

Jax intercepted another weak hand-off from Mac, driving the length of the floor. Nash tried to sprint back to contest, but he couldn’t close the gap in time, his strides shorter and visibly heavier. Jax finished a tough, contested layup through a foul, converting the old-fashioned three-point play at the line.

Raptors 78 – Blacklist 81.

With only twelve seconds left in the third quarter, Nash took a deep breath. His legs felt like jelly, but he knew he had to do something, right now, or the last quarter would be hell.

He wiped sweat from his forehead, then suddenly, he went left. The way he moved was kind of impossible, one second Jax was right in front of him, the next second Jax was just standing there like a statue, completely fooled.

The whole crowd went "Oooooh!" at the same time. Because Nash wasn’t just running, he was almost floating toward the basket, his body leaning sideways like one of those action figures mid-air. It looked cool, like something from a movie where the hero does a slow-motion jump.

But then, one desperate Raptors player totally lost it. He wasn’t even trying to get the ball anymore. Nope. Instead, he just shoved Nash with both hands while Nash was still in the air.

BAM.

Nash crashed straight into the metal pole holding up the hoop. The sound was so loud it echoed everywhere. The whistle blew like crazy, but Nash was already on the ground, sliding a little before stopping. And just like that, the quarter ended.

"Hey! Ref, that’s a fucking assault!" a spectator screamed from the third row, standing up and slamming his fist on the railing.

"Are you blind?! They’re trying to murder him because they can’t guard him!" another fan roared. The crowd had completely turned against the Raptors. They had been utterly captivated by Nash’s flawless, unorthodox style, and they refused to see a masterpiece ruined by thuggery.The head official didn’t hesitate, rushing over with his hands raised.

"Flagrant Foul Penalty 2! You’re ejected! Get off the floor!"

On the Raptors’ bench, the manager looked physically ill. His face was entirely drained of color, his hands shaking as he clutched his hair. Losing Vance earlier was bad, but losing another starter to an ejection meant severe league penalties and an absolute disaster for the franchise.

"Are you fucking idiots insane?!" he screamed at his players, his voice cracking with desperation. "Breathe on him wrong again and I will personally terminate your contracts! Lower your goddamn intensity and just play defense! You’re destroying our entire season!"

Nash slowly pushed himself up, refusing to stay down. The arena erupted into a standing ovation as he calmly limped to the free-throw line for the quarter’s final penalty shots. He sunk both with perfect precision.

Swish. Swish.

Raptors 80 – Blacklist 83.

As the buzzer went off with that loud, annoying beep, Nash dragged himself back to the bench where the Blacklist team was sitting.

His chest was moving up and down fast, like he’d just run a marathon.

Jaz was the first one to move. She grabbed a towel, the big fluffy kind, and draped it over his shoulders. Her fingers lingered for a second, like she was checking if he was okay without actually saying it.

"You were playing with fire out there," she said. "It worked, sure, but if you get hurt, we’re screwed. Like, actually screwed."

Nia sat down next to Nash, not saying anything at first. She was always the one who thought too much, who saw stuff the others didn’t. And right now, she saw exactly what Nash had done: throwing himself into danger because the rest of them weren’t good enough yet. Her hands were clenched into fists.

"We let you take too many hits," she muttered, staring at the floor like it had personally offended her. "Because we weren’t ready. Sorry about that, it won’t happen again."

Alicia, who usually acted like she didn’t care about anything when she wasn’t shining, was suddenly right there, her face pale. She reached out, her fingers hovering over Nash’s elbow like she was afraid to touch it.

"You’re such an idiot," she said, but her voice shook a little. "You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m going out there, and I’m gonna prove I belong on this stupid court with you. So stop trying to break yourself, okay?"

Behind them, Jinzo, Mac, and the other two NPCs just sat there, heads down. They looked like they wanted to disappear.

Then, before Nash could even open his mouth, the whole bench went dead quiet.

Victoria walked over.

Everyone moved back like she had some kind of force field around her. She stopped right in front of Nash, close enough that he could see how cold her eyes were. For a second, no one breathed. They were all waiting for her to rip into him, to yell about how reckless he’d been.

"You went out there with a bunch of dead weight," she said, flat as usual. "You let those guys treat you like a punching bag just to get two of them kicked out."

Then, out of nowhere, her face softened. Like, actually softened. She reached up, her fingers surprisingly soft and gentle as she brushed a strand of sweaty hair away from Nash’s forehead.

"Your plan to piss them off was brilliant, and it worked," Victoria murmured. "But it will be an absolute disaster if you get permanently injured for this. Do you understand me? I care about the win, and your presence means winning. Don’t do that again."

Nash blinked. He was ready for anything... but this?, It surprised even him. Because Victoria? Showing emotion? That was new.

The fourth-quarter buzzer rang through the arena. Nash blinked sweat out of his eyes and turned to look at Jaz, Nia, and Alicia. His chest rose slowly, he was tired, like his lungs were on fire.

He watched his team standing there, their shoulders tense, their faces tight. His arms and legs throbbed like he’d been punched all over. And their eyes... Shit. Their eyes were wide, nervous, flicking between him and the court.

He swallowed. Okay. Yeah. Maybe he’d pushed too hard this time. Maybe he needed to chill the hell out before someone got hurt.

Nash dragged a hand through his damp hair and forced his voice to sound calm.

"Alright, that should do it. I’ll need to lower my game for a little bit. I’m counting on you all for the last stretch," he said.

The girls instantly ignited.

"Yeah!" they shouted together.