Extra Basket-Chapter 123 - 110: 4th Quarter

4th Quarter Begins

Score: Vorpal Basket — 74 | Portsmouth Vultures — 40

The gym felt heavier now — not because of the score, but because everyone knew this quarter was different.

No more testing the waters.

No more rotations.

It was the real deal now.

Both teams had sent out their starters their true weapons.

This was the battle that would define momentum for the rest of the season.

....

Team Vorpal Basket (Black and Gold)

Lucas Graves (#10) – Shooting Guard

Evan Cooper (#9) – Point Guard

Josh Turner (#8) – Small Forward

Ryan Taylor (#11) – Power Forward

Brandon Young (#15) – Center

These five stood in formation — calm, focused, and locked in.

Lucas bounced the ball once, catching Darnell’s sharp gaze across the court.

"(Let’s do this...)" Lucas thought, his yellow eyes narrowing.

"(Time to show them what we are)"

....

Portsmouth Vultures

Marcus Flynn – Point Guard Rico Harrow – Shooting Guard

Darnell Fox – Small Forward

Silas Green – Power Forward

Anwar Pafur – Center

The Vultures walked on with fire in their steps.

Darnell rolled his shoulders, his muscles tense but warm. He was sweating — but not because of exhaustion.

Because of hunger.

He wanted this.

Marcus slapped his chest and pointed to Rico.

"Let’s take it back. Play smart. No fouls. Just pressure."

Anwar cracked his knuckles and smirked toward Brandon, his matchup.

"Time for round two, big man."

..

12:00 on the Clock, 4th Quarter Tip-Off

The whistle blew.

Evan Cooper brought the ball up for Vorpal, his body low, guarded by Marcus Flynn.

Ethan, seated just off-court with a clipboard in hand, whispered to himself:

"Now the real data begins..."

Lucas moved fast, weaving along the sideline, brushing past screens set by Josh and Ryan.

"Darnell’s watching me..."

"But if I bait him left..."

Lucas cut hard right instead a perfect fake, and Evan saw it.

Bounce pass clean.

Lucas caught the ball near the elbow. He stopped. One dribble. Pull-up jumper.

Swish.

Nothing but net.

76–40.

The crowd roared.

...

Marcus didn’t waste time. He sped up the court, calling for a screen from Silas.

Lucas was already back on defense.

"Switch!" Josh called.

Rico cut into the corner, caught the ball, and shot instantly.

Clang — miss.

Rebound — Brandon.

Quick outlet to Evan. Fast break incoming.

Ryan ran up the left wing. Evan faked a pass — then no-looked to Josh Turner, who caught it mid-stride and hammered in a dunk with both hands.

78–40.

The gym erupted again.

..

Darnell walked slowly toward inbound, his face unreadable.

Then he shouted. "Enough warming up. Let’s go."

He clapped once. Loud.

BOOM.

The Vultures’ tempo changed.

Suddenly Marcus was attacking faster. Rico was cutting harder. Silas began playing more physical.

Darnell caught the next pass, one-on-one with Josh.

"You think you can stop me?" he said coldly.

He jab-stepped, crossed over hard, spun and elevated into the air.

Brandon jumped too late.

Darnell slammed the ball through with force.

78–42.

Even the Vorpal bench had to nod.

Lucas turned toward him.

"hmm..."

"...he’s getting good."

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

"I’ve seen enough."

"Lucas, it’s time to wake up."

..

Meanwhile — Portsmouth Vultures Bench

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the court echoed faintly behind them. Sweat clung to Jamie Lin’s jersey as he sat at the edge of the bench, still catching his breath from the intense third quarter. His eyes were fixed on the scoreboard:

4th Quarter: Vorpal Basket 78 | Vultures 42

He didn’t blink. Just stared.

Coach Ryland, arms folded and clipboard in hand, eased down onto the seat beside him.

"What do you think..." Ryland asked, voice low, eyes squinting at the court. "You think we could still win this?"

Jamie didn’t look at him. Just muttered, voice steady:

"It’s 50/50."

Coach Ryland groaned lightly, shaking his head.

"Again with the 50/50? You always say that."

Jamie finally turned toward him, sweat trailing down his temple.

"We still don’t know their real plan."

"And that Lucas kid... we know what he is. He can copy people. Their style. Their tempo."

"That’s not normal."

Ryland shifted. "Yeah, but even then, they beat Alec Storm with two people. Ethan was helping Lucas. That wasn’t a clean one-on-one."

Jamie gave him a look calm, certain.

"You’re wrong."

"Ethan stepped in at the end because he wanted to close the game."

"But even he knew... Lucas could’ve handled Alec solo."

Ryland went silent.

Jamie leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes narrowing.

"Based on my analysis, Lucas is different now. More calculated. He doesn’t just copy anymore..."

"He learns. He improves. He evolves."

They both watched as Lucas intercepted a pass on the court, then turned and launched a fast-break lob toward Josh, who slammed it home.

80–42.

Coach Ryland sighed. "...that’s not just copying anymore."

Jamie nodded slowly.

"Exactly."

"That’s instinct."

And from the corner of the court, Ethan Albarado stood with arms crossed, eyes fixed forward, already three plays ahead.

The Vultures might’ve been trailing...

...but Jamie knew this wasn’t just about points anymore.

It was about momentum. Growth. And something scary brewing in Vorpal’s core.

Maybe thanks to a certain indivual....

....

Back to the Court — 4th Quarter

Score: Vorpal Basket 80 | Vultures 42

Time: 6:45 left on the clock

The crowd’s cheers faded into a low, tense hum as Lucas Graves stood face-to-face with Darnell Fox, the Vultures’ ace and #0 the hot-blooded fighter with fire in his eyes.

Both players stood at the top of the key, the atmosphere electric.

Lucas dribbled calmly, the ball bouncing with rhythm. His yellow eyes were locked in reading every twitch, every breath Darnell took.

Across from him, Darnell widened his stance. Sweat clung to his brow, but his energy hadn’t faded. In fact, it surged. The moment he’d been waiting for had finally arrived.

"So you’re the one everyone’s hyped up," Darnell said, cracking his neck.

Lucas didn’t reply. He just smiled.

"Let’s see what you really got, Graves."

The crowd leaned in. Evan passed the ball in to Lucas. It was on.

Lucas took the first step sharp and clean.

Darnell responded immediately, mirroring it with a slide that covered ground fast. He was fast faster than Lucas expected but Lucas wasn’t just trying to break past.

He was measuring.

"(His stance... wide, aggressive. Trying to bait a drive left... too risky. I’ll feint it.)"

Lucas made a quick jab to the left. Darnell bit, shifting with it.

That’s when Lucas spun right smooth and sudden shifting his shoulder down and cutting toward the free throw line.

But Darnell recovered.

He didn’t fall for the spin. He planted his heel and shifted back, cutting off the lane like a wall of muscle and instinct.

"(He read that? Damn... he’s sharp.)" Lucas thought, tightening his grip.

Mid-range. No space. Darnell’s arms out. The pressure was on.

Lucas pivoted once then again and rose for a quick fadeaway jumper.

Darnell jumped with him.

Fingers grazed the ball. It changed its path slightly.

Clang.

The ball hit the rim.

Ryan scrambled for the rebound but Anwar Pafur boxed him out and pulled it down.

The Vultures had a chance.

"Not bad," Darnell said, jogging up the court. "You’re quick. But I already adapt your pattern. You’ll need more than that."

Lucas dusted his hands and smirked.

"Don’t worry. I change so fast."

..

Next play, Marcus Flynn dribbled it up and passed it to Darnell, who waved everyone off.

It was time for payback.

Lucas planted his feet in front of him, watching.

"(Let’s see how you move... come on, show me.)"

Darnell dribbled once, twice then exploded forward.

He wasn’t just fast he was violent with his motion. A mix of power and rhythm. Lucas held his ground, shuffled back, trying to stay in front.

Darnell spun.

Lucas stayed with him.

Then Darnell pump-faked, Lucas didn’t bite.

But Darnell’s footwork was slick.

One more pivot and he slipped under Lucas’s arm, laying the ball off the glass.

Bucket.

80–44.

..

As they jogged back, Lucas’s eyes sharpened.

"(His body control... perfect. His feints aren’t just tricks. They’re built into his movement.)"

From the bench, Ethan watched.

"This is it... Lucas is analyzing him now. He’s locking on."

...

Next possession, Evan passed to Lucas again. Darnell waited.

"Again?" he asked, raising a brow.

Lucas cracked his neck. "Yeah. Again."

This time, Lucas didn’t rush.

He just moved fluid, controlled.

He drove right, Darnell stepped in but Lucas pulled back with a stepback dribble and fired a clean jumper.

Swish.

82–44.

The crowd erupted.

Darnell stared for a second, then... smiled.

"Fucking monster"

...

....

Now Score: Vorpal Basket — 82 | Vultures — 44

Time: 6:10 remaining

Darnell Fox took a deep breath, dribbling the ball up slowly, eyes locked on Lucas Graves.

"(I thought that pattern was correct... tsk.)" he grit his teeth, flicking sweat from his forehead.

Lucas had just nailed a clean stepback jumper — a move Darnell had anticipated, but Lucas changed his rhythm at the last moment.

"(Looks like he really did change his pattern... he’s not just copying moves. He’s adapting mine... remixing them.)"

Darnell passed to Rico Harrow on the wing, then cut through to the baseline before circling back to the top. The ball came back to his hands.

Lucas followed steady, light on his feet, focused like a hawk.

From the Vultures bench, Jamie Lin watched the exchange closely, eyes narrow under his damp bangs.

"(So he’s shifting his learning mid-play. Not just copying... but evolving. Lucas Graves is a nightmare if you give him time.)"

Back on court, Darnell spun the ball in his hand, mind racing.

"(What should we do now, Jamie? You’re on the bench. It’s up to me now...)"

He lowered his shoulder and launched forward.

Lucas matched him stride for stride.

Darnell switched hands mid-dribble, then hit a behind-the-back fake crossover — the kind that made defenders stumble but Lucas didn’t bite. His yellow eyes didn’t even blink.

"(He’s seen it already.)"

Darnell pivoted into a fadeaway clean form, smooth arc.

Clang.

Off the rim.

Brandon Young grabbed the rebound and instantly outlet-passed to Evan Cooper.

Evan sprinted up, signaling a transition.

"Let’s go!" Evan shouted.

....

Lucas caught the ball at the wing. Darnell had already tracked back, panting slightly.

Ethan watched from the bench, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

"He’s testing Darnell now... Lucas isn’t just going for points. He’s breaking Darnell down."

Lucas hesitated just a millisecond before driving left.

Darnell chased, but Lucas stopped on a dime, turned his back, bumped once into Darnell’s chest, then spun over his shoulder and launched a floater off the glass.

In.

84–44.

Darnell stumbled backward slightly, eyes wide.

"(I didn’t even see the release point...)"

....

The gym thundered with cheers.

On the Vultures bench, Coach Ryland leaned forward.

Jamie didn’t say a word, just stared at Lucas.

"He’s changed completely since that time..." Ryland murmured.

Jamie finally spoke.

"He’s adapting with every second. And the more Darnell pushes him, the faster he learns."

.....

Back on the floor, Darnell passed the ball in to Marcus Flynn.

"Clear out," Darnell said, voice sharp.

He got the ball back at the top, and this time he didn’t hesitate.

He drove hard explosive right into Lucas.

Lucas didn’t flinch.

Contact.

Darnell bumped once twice then rose for a poster dunk.

Lucas jumped with him.

The crowd held its breath.

Their bodies collided in the air.

SLAM!

The ball thundered through the rim, but Lucas’s hand had grazed it.

And-one.

84–46.

Darnell landed hard and roared, adrenaline pouring through him.

Lucas hit the floor, slid slightly, but popped right back up.

He looked at Darnell, smiling.

Darnell stared at him, panting. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

"You’re good," Darnell said.

Lucas nodded. "You’re not bad either."

They stood there, locked in a silent challenge, as the crowd roared around them.

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

It was a battle of growth vs. will.

Prodigy vs. Ace.

And it was far from over.

To be continue