The next morning hit the Underground like a heavy hangover. The artificial light in the ceiling took its sweet time turning from a deep, bruised purple into that familiar, fake orange glare.

Inside the apartment, the bedroom still smelled of the wild, messy night before. Nash was already awake, sitting on the edge of the mattress while fastening his heavy racing trousers. His body felt completely recharged, not a single ounce of fatigue in his muscles.

On either side of him, the sheets were a total disaster, soaked through with sweat and rivers of dried white cream. Lina was dead to the world, snoring softly with her face buried in a pillow, her pink twin-tails tangled up across her bare, sticky back.

Sarra was curled up right next to his thigh, her glasses resting on the nightstand, her plush, voluptuous body still shivering slightly in her sleep as thick white lines of his previous loads continued to slowly seep out from her thighs.

Nash offered a smile, leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Sarra’s flushed cheek, another one on Lina’s forehead, and walked out into the cool morning air.

He took the keys to his Porsche, launching himself straight toward the team facility. It was time to show the lower sectors what a real superstar looked like.

The low, metallic rumble of the brand-new black Porsche cut straight through the dusty, industrial noise of Hangar 47. The sports car glided across the cracked concrete of the yard, looking completely out of place against the rusted sheet metal and decaying fences of the facility.

The exact second Nash killed the ignition, the sudden silence that followed felt incredibly heavy.

The entire maintenance crew and the yard handlers stopped exactly what they were doing. Within seconds, a small cluster of staff members slowly drifted toward the vehicle, their eyes wide, their mouths hanging open as they took in the flawless lines of the dark chassis.

"Damn, Nash! Look at this absolute monster!" one of them called out, letting out a sharp whistle as he stepped closer, careful not to touch the pristine paint. "We can tell those new contracts are finally starting to talk. You want us to roll her into the private, high-security slot inside the main bay while you run the session? Keep the dust off her."

"Yeah, do that," Nash said, stepping out of the driver’s seat. He adjusted the cuffs of his dark racing jacket, his face completely calm. "Take care of it."

He tossed the electronic key-fob over without breaking his stride.

The heavy sliding doors of the hangar opened, and the Blacklist roster emerged onto the concrete, already dressed in their tight training gear.

Jaz led the pack, a wide, grin splitting her face the exact second her eyes locked onto the black Porsche. She walked straight up to Nash, her long, heavy arm coming down on his shoulder with a firm, proud slap that would have knocked a normal man down.

"Stepping up the game, Nash?" Jaz laughed, her eyes watching the lines of the car before looking back at his sharp gear. "Damn. You look like a total king standing next to this thing. Everyone must be losing their minds trying to track your credits. You know what? You’ve inspired me. As soon as we get our cut of the next victory bonuses, I’m buying an imported model... with a custom One Thrust Man paint job!"

Nia and Alicia stepped up right behind her, both of them raising their eyebrows at the exact same time in complete confusion.

"What in the Hell is that?" Nia asked, her brow furrowing deeply. "Is that another one of your weird numbers porn mangas, Jaz? Knowing your tastes, it’s going to be something completely unhinged." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"Leave it alone, you guys just don’t understand high art," Jaz replied, rolling her eyes with an amused smirk. "Anyway, Nash, you promised we were all going for a ride after this. I’m taking the front passenger seat, direct."

"We’ll see about that after the work," Nash smiled, looking back at his roster. "For now, get your asses onto the hardwood."

The training block for the morning was a complete, brutal session of tactical and physical reconstruction. With Nia’s new resolution having boosted his ambition, Nash took total, absolute charge of the floor, moving far away from the standard, boring conditioning routines they usually ran.

He positioned the girls across the paint, breaking down every micro-movement, teaching them specific positioning tricks, sharp body feints, and raw, rapid-fire reflex drills. The intensity in the gym was heavy and suffocating, but the atmosphere remained locked, studious, and entirely connected.

"We are officially changing dimensions now," Nash said, his eyes on each girl to lock down their focus. "The contracts from the Surface mean we’re going to start facing absolute monsters on the circuit. Everyone needs to step up their game by ten levels. No exceptions."

Over on the far side of the bench, Mac and Jinzo sat completely still, their arms crossed tightly over their chests. True to form, they were playing the part of their eternal committee of resistance, completely refusing to look at Nash or engage in any of the new drills.

But in the millisecond when Victoria ordered the main security door locked for a three-hour closed-door tactical session, Jinzo gave Mac a brief, discreet nod.

Taking advantage of the general focus locked onto the complex offensive schemes, the two boys quietly slipped away into the dark, empty corridor leading to the private locker rooms.

Inside, Jinzo immediately began tearing through the lockers, moving the heavy gym bags around with a ragged, growing frustration.

"Hurry the hell up, Jinzo," Mac muttered nervously, his eyes darting back toward the entrance as sweat began to bead on his forehead. "If any of them catches us digging around in here during training, we’re fucking dead."

"Shut your mouth and keep looking," Jinzo growled, slamming a metal locker door. "There’s nothing here. And all their phones have fucking passwords."

Jinzo snatched the lock off the locker belonging to Jaz. Just as he pulled her bag forward, her phone screen lit up from a random network notification. The background wallpaper was a sharp, high-resolution selfie of Jaz and Nash, their tongues completely tangled together in a shameless display of provocative intimacy.

Jinzo felt a thick vein throb violently right against his temple. He slammed the device back into the locker with a muffled curse, his teeth grinding.

"Nothing. It’s totally blind."

Suddenly, the sound of loud laughter and footsteps echoed from the tiled hallway. The girls were coming back. Panicking, Jinzo and Mac scrambled backward, wedging their bodies tightly inside a locker at the very back of the room, packed together like the gayest sardines, completely holding their breath.

Jaz, Nia, and Alicia unceremoniously dumped themselves onto the wooden benches, panting heavily, their skin glistening with a fresh sheen of sweat.

"Seriously, those baseline recovery drills are completely cutting my legs off," Alicia sighed, using a clean towel to wipe down her neck and chest. "But at least you understand exactly why you got completely blown past in the last match."

"No kidding," Nia said, unlacing her high-tops with a tired grunt. "The guy doesn’t leave a single blind spot. Speaking of which... what do you guys think about that meeting he mentioned on the court? That thing with Rei tonight to watch the match?"

Jaz leaned entirely back against the wall, throwing her arms behind her head.

"Honestly, I think it’s pretty weird that Rei became so damn cool with him all of a sudden. The last time we saw her at the arena, she looked like she wanted to murder him. But hey, if it meay Baby-Boom and us are getting along, I’m not complaining."

"Yeah, well, I just hope Rei throws her entire focus on Nash and leaves the rest of us alone," Nia laughed loudly, tossing a bottle of body wash over to Alicia. "Her little lesbian tendencies the last time were funny when it was on you, but I’d much rather see her inspect Nash’s body than having to touch her abs again."

"Seriously, that girl is way too intense," Alicia agreed with a wide laugh, standing up to head toward the showers. "Come on, let’s hurry up. Victoria is going to kill us if we’re even two seconds late for the second half of the training."

Once the girls washed up and left the room, the heavy iron doors closed, Jinzo and Mac finally emerged from the dark gap, completely empty-handed and furious.

They slipped out through the rear maintenance door of the hangar, sifting through the shadows near the trash bins to make their call.

Over on the other side of the lower city, deep inside the Dust Dogs’ training ground, Saya was lounging on a heavy, weathered wooden crate. She was watching her own team train, or pretend to train.

The moment Jinzo’s voice crackled through the phone with his report, her heels began to tap a rapid, frantic rhythm against the wood. Her patience dropped to zero.

"What do you mean, passwords?" Saya hissed into her phone. "Are you two bums completely joking with me right now? I’m not paying you just to hear excuses from a couple of twelve-year-old schoolboys. It’s your fucking job to find a crack in Blacklist. Figure it out, imagine the passwords, I don’t know, but get me something concrete by tomorrow morning!"

She ended the call furiously. Sitting on her wooden crate, she let out a long, ragged sigh of pure rage, her heels tapping faster and faster against the wood as she muttered.

"Damn... Fucking useless pieces of trash," she growled. "Always surrounded by complete, dickless incompetents. Every single time."

Back in the alley behind Hangar 47, Jinzo slowly lowered his phone, the screen dark.

Mac leaned against the fence, letting out a heavy groan as he poked Jinzo hard in the ribs with his elbow.

"Man... we aren’t even getting paid for this shit. I mean, unless she’s planning on paying us back with her body? Is that what she means by paying us?" He offered a nasty grin, nudging him again. "Because if Saya’s offering a piece of that tight pussy to get this secret, I’ll tear those locker doors right off their hinges with my bare hands."

"Shut the fuck up, Mac," Jinzo snapped as he crossed his arms.

His mind was racing, turning the girls’ casual conversation over and over in his head. The meeting. Rei and Nash.

"Think for a second. Rei and Nash tonight. The last time we checked, Aiko was hovering around him. Now it’s Rei... It’s always Baby-Boom, isn’t it? Don’t you find that setup a little strange?"

"Come on, it’s just Nash," Mac scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "The guy literally jumps on anything that has a pussy. He’s probably just trying to clean out their roster for the hell of it."

"No, there’s something happening behind the scenes," Jinzo insisted, his instincts lighting up like a warning flare. "There’s something weird going on between him and Victoria. Plus... wait, the girls said they were meeting up specifically to watch a match."

Jinzo took out his phone and began to browse the Underleague game schedule of the evening. His eyes roamed across the screen of real-time information, passing the usual matches before he paused over the final entry on the list.

He audibly breathed out in shock.

Today was no ordinary qualifying match for Baby-Boom. They would be taking to the courts of the notorious Hell Gates stadium, the most savage, battleground arena in all of the Underground, and their opponents were one of the top contender of the league.

The Colossus.