Extra Basket-Chapter 138 - 125: Loan Shark (1)

The air in the dimly lit room was thick with cigarette smoke and the scent of stale beer. Empty takeout containers littered a scarred wooden table. At its head sat Big King, a hulking man whose bald head gleamed under the single bare bulb, a jagged scar pulling at the corner of his left eye. He slammed a massive fist onto the table, making the cheap plastic cups rattle.

"Fuck that kid!" he roared, his voice a gravelly rumble that filled the small space. "He said he’d pay us in a week. Now what the fuck is this?!"

Brick, the tallest of the thugs, stood nervously before him, shifting his weight. "Boss, that Ethan... Jeremy said didn’t pay us. We went to the gym like you said, but the kid wouldn’t cough it up."

Big King’s good eye narrowed, fixed on Brick. "He wouldn’t pay? What, did he think this was a charity, huh? We’re not running a charity!" He leaned forward, his knuckles white. "You telling me you let some high school punk walk all over you?"

Brick flinched. "No, Boss, it wasn’t like that. He had a whole team with him. And that kid who is shorter than us he looked ready to fight. And the yellow eyes freak kid, too. They looked like they meant business."

"A team?" Big King scoffed, leaning back in his creaky chair. "Basketball players? You let basketball players scare you off?" He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "This isn’t some game, Brick. This is money. My money."

He pulled a half-smoked cigarette from an overflowing ashtray and lit it, inhaling deeply. "So, the Ethan kid thinks he’s a hero, huh? Thinks he can stand up to Big King?" A slow, predatory smile spread across his face, revealing a missing front tooth. "Let’s see how much of a hero he is when his little team starts losing more than just games."

He took another drag, then exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Jeremy owes us. And if Jeremy can’t pay, then his ’team’ will. One way or another."

Big King pointed a thick finger at Brick. "Go back there. But this time, don’t go empty-handed. I want that money, or I want something valuable they care about. And I want it by tomorrow."

Brick nodded, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. "Yes, Boss. We’ll handle it."

As Brick and the other two thugs turned to leave, Big King took a final, long drag from his cigarette, extinguishing it in the ashtray. He leaned back again, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

"Let’s see if this ’Ethan’ is as tough as he thinks he is."

...

The worn linoleum floor of the apartment building lobby felt cold beneath their sneakers as the Vorpal Basket team stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of old cooking and a faint, lingering dampness. They found the stairs, a grimy concrete structure leading up into the dimness. Each step echoed in the quiet building as they ascended to the third floor.

Ethan stopped in front of apartment 3B. The door, a dull green, looked as weary as the rest of the building. He could hear the faint murmur of a television inside, and the distant, happy sound of children’s voices. His heart ached. Jeremy was in there, putting on a brave face for his siblings, while battling a nightmare all alone.

He raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. What would he say? How do you tell a friend, trapped in a desperate situation, that you know his secret?

Lucas stepped up beside him, his hand gently touching Ethan’s shoulder. "We’re here for him, Ethan. Just... tell him that."

Louie Gee nodded from behind them, his usual swagger replaced by a rare seriousness. "He needs us."

Taking a deep breath, Ethan finally rapped on the door. Once. Twice.

The murmuring inside stopped. A few seconds later, the faint sound of shuffling feet approached. A small eye-level peephole darkened, as if someone was peering through.

Then, the door opened a crack, revealing a small, hesitant face. It was Jeremy’s little sister, her eyes wide with curiosity, clutching a faded teddy bear.

"Hi," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Hi there," Ethan said softly, forcing a gentle smile. "Is Jeremy home?"

The little girl blinked, then slowly opened the door wider. Inside, the apartment was small but tidy, though showing signs of wear. A small boy, Jeremy’s little brother, peeked out from behind the living room couch, clutching a well-loved basketball.

And there, standing in the middle of the cramped living room, was Jeremy. His eyes, usually bright, were downcast, and his shoulders slumped. He looked thin, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He wore a faded t-shirt and old sweatpants. When he saw Ethan and the entire team standing in his doorway, his eyes widened in shock, then immediately filled with shame.

"Ethan? And everyone... I get about Ethan, but you guys... what are you guys doing here?" Jeremy stammered, his voice cracking. He tried to close the door, but Ethan quickly put a hand out to stop it.

"We know, Jeremy," Ethan said, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. "We know about the loan sharks. About your dad. About me."

Jeremy’s eyes widened, and he flinched as if struck. The words seemed to physically drain him, and he slowly sank to his knees, his face crumpling. "Ethan... I, uh, sorry... for everything. I told them about you. I told them that they should find you in case I’m nowhere to be found." Tears streamed down his face as he repeated, "I’m sorry. I’m sorry."

Ethan looked down at his friend, his expression unreadable for a moment. The betrayal stung, yes, but seeing Jeremy like this, broken and ashamed, overshadowed any personal hurt. He knelt too, meeting Jeremy at eye level. "Well, although I’m disappointed and hurt, I’m just trying to understand you, Jeremy. After all, it’s hard to do what you do."

Jeremy looked up at Ethan, his eyes still brimming with tears but now also filled with a profound look of gratefulness.

"Anyway, why didn’t they raid your house?" Louie asked, breaking the heavy silence. His voice, usually loud and boisterous, was softer, reflecting the seriousness of the moment.

Jeremy sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "Uh... like I said... they should find Ethan for one week. They said if he didn’t pay, then they would take whatever they wanted from my house." He swallowed hard, his gaze drifting to his little brother and sister, who were still watching from the living room, their innocent faces filled with curiosity. "I thought if I worked and did some side gigs, I could gain money in just a week and pay them back. But my father’s life suddenly got worse. The hospital bills worsened, and my mother had to work multiple jobs and was stressing out."

The small apartment hung heavy with unspoken tension. The weight of Jeremy’s situation pressed down on everyone, a tangible thing in the stuffy air. The joyful sounds of children’s cartoons from the television seemed jarringly out of place.

Lucas broke the silence, his voice low and serious. "What should we do, Ethan?" He looked at their leader, a silent plea for guidance in his eyes.

Coonie and Kai, still bearing the marks of their encounter with the thugs, exchanged worried glances. Evan and Aiden and Josh looked at each other, their faces etched with concern. Even Brandon and Ryan, usually the team’s jokers, were somber. Ryan, however, seemed to want to ease the tension, a nervous energy bubbling beneath his surface.

"Well," Ryan started, attempting a weak smile, "at least we know what we’re doing tomorrow. We’re not playing basketball; we’re playing ’Get Jeremy’s Money Back From Scary Loan Sharks’!"

His joke fell flat, met with silence. He quickly sobered.

Ethan, who had been silent, his gaze fixed on Jeremy, finally spoke. "We’re going to help him."

It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. His voice was calm, but a steely resolve shone in his eyes.

"We’re a team," he continued, his gaze sweeping over each of their faces. "And teams don’t leave their own to fight battles alone. We’re going to figure this out, together."

He turned back to Jeremy, his expression softening. "First things first, Jeremy, we need to know everything. How much do you owe? When is the deadline? What did those thugs say they would take?"

Jeremy hesitated, his voice trembling slightly. "I... I owe them five thousand dollars. The deadline is tomorrow. They said... they said they’d take whatever they wanted from my house if I didn’t pay."

Five thousand dollars. The amount hung in the air, a daunting sum. It was more money than any of them had ever seen, let alone possessed.

Ethan’s mind raced. He knew they couldn’t come up with that kind of money overnight. They needed a plan, and fast.

"Okay," Ethan said, his voice firm. "We need to think. If the deadline is tomorrow, and they said they’d be back... I’d say we have until tomorrow night, at the latest."

"That’s not a lot of time." Ayumi said, her voice tight with worry.

"No, it’s not," Ethan agreed. "But it’s enough. We’re not going to let those thugs take anything from Jeremy or his family."

He looked at each of his teammates, his gaze unwavering. "We’re going to fight for Jeremy. Just like we fight on the court. We’re going to use our strengths, our skills, and our teamwork to get him out of this mess."

A flicker of hope ignited in Jeremy’s eyes, mirroring the determination in Ethan’s. For the first time since this nightmare began, he felt a glimmer of relief, a sense that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone after all.

"We need a plan," Ethan repeated, his voice firm. "And we need it now."

Lucas, his mind already racing, asked, "What’s the plan, Ethan?"

Evan, usually quiet, spoke up, his voice hesitant but thoughtful. "Ethan... maybe..."

Ethan turned to Evan, his expression encouraging. "Maybe what, Evan?"

Evan took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Maybe we can use what we’re good at. Basketball. We can raise the money somehow."

Louie Gee’s eyes lit up. "A game? We challenge those thugs to a game?"

Ethan considered this, his brow furrowed. "A game... it’s a start. But five thousand dollars is a lot. We’d need something big."

Evan shifted his weight, then blurted out, "I, uh, found this... big shot. He said his super team is stronger, and he says if we won, we get ten thousand dollars."

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up. "Super team? Did other prodigy or monster teams beat them?"

Evan shook his head. "Those teams didn’t pay attention to his clout... after all, they have something to do. And those who did pay attention always got beaten."

A murmur went through the team. Ten thousand dollars. That was double what Jeremy owed, enough to cover his debt and perhaps even help with his father’s medical bills. But a "super team" that no other "prodigy or monster team" had beaten sounded like a dangerous proposition.

Ethan’s mind churned. This wasn’t just about winning a game; it was about saving Jeremy. It was a risky play, but the stakes couldn’t be higher.

"Evan," Ethan said, his voice measured. "Tell me everything you know about this ’big shot’ and his super team. We need details, every single one."

To be continue