Extra Basket-Chapter 84 - 71: White (27)

Somewhere Deep Underground...

The room was cold — not because of the temperature, but because of the metal.

Steel walls, steel floor, steel cuffs around wrists and ankles.

Chains rattled softly each time they shifted, like ghosts whispering.

Aiden White sat slumped against the wall, his arms bruised and bound behind his back.

Beside him, his mother, Panny, was equally shackled. Her long black hair clung to her tear-streaked face, eyes red, heart aching.

In front of them, a small flickering monitor was the only window to the outside world.

The screen displayed the underground game — but not just any part.

Noah White.

Sprinting down the court.

Crossing defenders.

Pulling up from deep.

Bang.

A clean three-pointer ripped through the net.

Aiden lifted his head, eyes trembling.

He whispered.

"Noah... Brother..."

His voice cracked under the weight of emotion.

On screen, Noah smiled.

Not a smirk. Not forced.

But genuine happiness — something Aiden hadn’t seen in years.

Beside him, Panny’s lips quivered.

She stared at the monitor, mouth covered by her chained hands, holding in a sob.

Then... she broke.

"He did it, Aiden... Your brother... Noah, he really—"

Tears ran freely down her cheeks.

"He’s smiling.

It’s been so long... since I’ve seen him like this..."

She gritted her teeth, her voice trembling.

"After the injury... he shut down.

That light in his eyes — it disappeared.

He always blamed himself. Always.

That he ruined his future, that he made me suffer..."

Aiden looked at his mother.

For the first time in a long while, there was hope in her eyes.

And maybe... freedom on the horizon.

"Mom..." Aiden said softly.

"We... we could finally be released from here."

Panny nodded, slowly.

"We just have to pray."

The chains still bound their bodies.

But their hearts — for the first time in a long time — felt just a little bit lighter.

And on the screen, Noah, carrying all their burdens in silence for so long,

was finally moving freely again.

...

Back to the Game

4th Quarter – 2 Minutes Left

VENGANZA – 22 | ORDINARY – 24

The court had turned into a battlefield of broken bodies and willpower.

The noise of bouncing balls and screeching shoes had slowed — replaced by heavy

breathing, stumbles, and the silent question on every player’s face:

"Can we keep going?"

...

Every member of Venganza was feeling it now.

The second pill. The rush was over. The crash was here.

Kaia wiped sweat from her brow, her vision flickering at the edges. Her gaze landed on Zeke — the unbreakable brute — now hunched, chest heaving.

"Tsk..." Zeke growled, trying to mask his fatigue, but his legs were jelly and his arms dragged with weight that hadn’t been there a minute ago.

Silas staggered as if gravity had doubled.

(Something’s wrong... This isn’t normal... That second pill—did it mess with my balance?)

......

Dante’s head spun.

His vision was doubled. Sweat poured down his face like rain.

He blinked fast, trying to lock eyes with Ethan.

"Ethan!!!" Dante shouted, almost pleading.

Ethan turned his head calmly, watching him.

Dante’s breath hitched — the weight of pressure, the screaming in his body.

He passed the ball towards Vin Cruz.

And then he snapped.

"How did you analyze us?! What the hell is your secret?!"

Ethan didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

His silence was louder than any taunt.

....

As the ball hit Vin’s hands, he took a single step.

Then another.

His legs gave out.

"Gghkk—!!"

He dropped to his knees.

His fingers clenched into the hardwood.

A splatter of blood painted the court as he vomited violently.

Gasps. Silence.

Even the enemy froze.

And Ethan’s eyes widened. He stormed toward Vin, fury and horror battling in his face.

As Vin Cruz lay on the court, his body trembling — not from fear, but from complete system failure.

(The third pill... it was too much.)

And now, as he coughed up blood and gasped for breath, everything felt like it was slipping away.

Ethan knelt beside him, ignoring the stunned Venganza players.

"I could help you with this." he muttered, showing the small container.

The ointment.

But the others didn’t let him get closer.

Dante stepped in, hand outstretched.

"Stay back."

Silas, Kaia, and Zeke — now recovering, their bodies sweating but stable — stood in his way too.

Their eyes no longer filled with pride or hunger.

Only worry. Regret. Shame.

"It’s fine..." Vin rasped.

His voice cracked as he turned his head toward Ethan.

"Let him be..." he whispered again, even as Dante’s lips trembled and his fists clenched.

"Brother..." Dante said, brokenly.

Vin’s body barely moved now — yet his gaze locked on Ethan.

"What’s your... mo...t...ve...?" Vin asked, struggling to breathe.

Ethan’s face twitched. He wasn’t angry because they were enemies.

He was angry because it didn’t have to be like this.

"Don’t talk," Ethan said softly as he reached forward again, placing a hand on Vin’s shoulder.

Vin stared into Ethan’s eyes — and what he saw wasn’t scorn.

It was something deeper.

A fury aimed at the system. At whoever let this happen. At whoever told kids they had to ruin themselves just to matter.

And in that moment, Vin understood.

As Ethan helping Vin he then shouted

"Hey!! Fucker!! If you can still hear me — STOP THIS FUCKING GAME!"

"Your team can’t handle this anymore! They’ll die out here!"

His voice cracked.

Not from fear but from anger. From desperation.

....

The Ordinary team have their all Eyes on Venganza

Louie, looked around at his teammates — all of them are exhausted.

His hands trembled. Not from fear, but realization.

Lucas, barely standing, blinked the sweat out of his eyes and stared across the court. Even with his lungs burning, his legs twitching from cramps, he saw the cracks in the other team.

Charlotte, sitting on the bench, clutched her knees, her fingers white with tension.

Her eyes were locked not on Vin...

But on Ethan — his voice, his fire, his refusal to let even his enemies fall like this.

Noah, catching his breath near half-court, watched in silence.

He wasn’t thinking of the score.

He was thinking of the kids across from him...

Just like him. Once hopeful. Now trapped in something too far gone.

The referee didn’t blow the whistle.

But the air itself was frozen.

This wasn’t a game anymore.

It was a wake-up call.

for those higher up

Then the rest of Ordinary approached slowly.

Lucas Graves, limping, barely upright, was helped across the court by a pair of slender hands.

"Sis..." Lucas breathed.

Charlotte Graves had tears brimming in her eyes. She tried to act like it didn’t shake her, but her voice cracked as she held him up.

"You..." she said, voice trembling.

"You did your best, brother."

Lucas grinned weakly, blood on his teeth.

"Did we win yet?"

"Or are we still being dramatic?"

Charlotte chuckled through her tears, gripping him tighter.

..............

Monitor Room – Aftermath of Collapse

The room, once filled with cold calculation and digital buzz, now simmered with tension.

As the Big screen flickered with real-time footage:

— Vin Cruz, collapsed.

— Ethan helping him.

— Lucas being supported by Charlotte.

— Noah White, standing tall, tears in his eyes.

They had won.

Not with dominance. But with heart.

Monitor 6, arms crossed, voice dripping with disdain:

"Oh, so this is it... Looks like you lost, Greg."

Monitor 8, the smug one, broke into uncontrollable laughter.

"Pffttt—HAHAHAHAHA! I can’t! I can’t!"

He started mimicking Greg’s voice, mockingly deep and theatrical:

"Beat them in a basketball match... and I’ll let you all go. That includes Aiden and your mother, Noah White..."

"Pfft—Ahahahahaha!"

Greg stood stiffly, his jaw twitching. His eyes were glued to the main screen. His lips barely moved.

"They... they can... they can still..."

But Monitor 1, the oldest — bald, wrinkled, and deeply authoritative — slammed his desk, silencing all other screens.

His voice boomed:

"Enough.

You lose, Greg.

You know what to do."

Silence fell.

Everyone turned to him.

Monitor 4, face unreadable, simply stared.

Monitor 7 and 3 nodded grimly.

And then... Monitor 5 buzzed to life.

A middle-aged woman with steel in her gaze and hair pulled into a flawless tight bun appeared on the screen.

Her cold voice sliced through the room.

"Greg. Remember what I said. I’ll kill you myself if you ever bring damage to our organization — or act without clearance."

Greg’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the edge of the desk.

(These bastards... they never cared about me. About the damage the White family caused me...)

His mind raged.

(All they care about is order. Image. Obedience. Money...)

He glanced sideways.

The red emergency panel.

The override door leading to the containment level.

He gulped, breath shallow.

His thoughts spiraled. Twisted.

(I never meant to let them go...)

(Not when those damn Whites took everything from me.)

He stood up slowly. Cold sweat dripped down his spine.

(If I can’t win the game... I’ll end it my way.)

He reached for the override key.

Somewhere below, Aiden White and Panny White remained chained.

Unaware that the true danger... wasn’t the game.

It was Greg.

The man who made the promise...

And never intended to keep it.

....

VENGANZA – 22 | ORDINARY – 24

The underground court felt like a world suspended in time.

Fluorescent lights buzzed weakly above, casting long, flickering shadows across the polished black floor. Sweat and blood had been spilled on this court. Pride had been shattered, then reborn. And now, in the hushed tension, two battered teams stood facing one another — warriors who had passed the edge of endurance.

The scoreboard ticked quietly.

But no one moved.

....

Team Venganza stood huddled together, clearly shaken.

Their bodies trembled from the side effects — the cost of the pills they’d taken to fight tooth and nail.

Though their immunity helped lessen the damage, their muscles still twitched involuntarily. Their lungs burned. Their vision blurred. The price wasn’t fatal — but it wasn’t cheap either.

Vin Cruz remained kneeling, one hand clutching his chest, the other pressing to the floor as if to ground himself. Blood still stained his lip. His younger brother, Dante, stood close by, pale and speechless. He didn’t know whether to yell or cry.

On the other side, Team Ordinary stood worn but upright — barely.

Lucas Graves leaned on his sister Charlotte, who was half-carrying him with that big-sister fire in her eyes.

Evan Cooper, though calm as ever, had his hands on his knees, gulping air.

Louie, their wild-card streetball genius, casually dribbled a ball between his legs like he wasn’t half-dead from adrenaline.

Meanwhile, Ethan Albarado knelt beside Vin Cruz, gently dabbing the blood off Vin’s chin with a cloth. His movements were calm, calculated, like someone who’d been through far worse.

Dante, fists clenched, looked at Ethan with confusion and disbelief.

"How did you... analyze us back then?" he asked, voice raw.

Ethan didn’t look at him at first. Just stared at Vin.

"You still askin’ questions?" he muttered.

"Just answer me." Dante demanded.

Ethan finally met his eyes.

"I saw everything. That’s all," he said quietly. "Movements. Timing. Instinct. You were strong — but predictable. And when I notice Vin movement that’s when the day it completely changed your rhythm."

Dante stepped back slightly, looking more awed than offended.

...

Zeke, hands on his hips, looked toward Lucas Graves. His pride was shattered. His mouth was dry.

He glanced at Charlotte. A fading scar was still visible on her forehead — a mark from the second quarter when he’d accidentally elbowed her chasing a loose ball.

"Graves," Zeke said quietly, "...I’m sorry. For what I did to your sister."

Lucas blinked. For a moment, it looked like he might explode.

But instead, he let out a long breath... and smiled — a tired, golden smile that somehow still carried his usual sunshine warmth.

"It’s okay now... I saw you hesitate before that hit. You didn’t mean it. he said. "And you apologized. That’s enough."

He turned to Charlotte.

"You good, sis?"

Charlotte nodded. Her voice was calm, but firm.

"I forgive you. But next time, Zeke — I will dunk on your face just to even the score."

Zeke laughed nervously.

"Fair enough..."

....

Nearby, Kaia — the timid girl with tired, wide eyes — crouched by the bench, rocking slightly. She mumbled to herself.

"Zaia says we lost because of me..."

Then, in a sharper voice — higher-pitched, eerie:

"I love ripping them apart..."

Silas, sitting on the floor catching his breath, looked at her with worry.

"Kaia... You okay?"

Kaia blinked a few times and slowly nodded.

"Yeah... Zaia’s just tired."

Silas exhaled deeply, brushing sweat off his forehead.

Even he — the brute-force monster of the court — had reached his limit.

....

Then a sharp whistle pierced the strange silence.

The referee, who’d just been watching the whole display, arms folded, finally spoke up.

His tone was flat

"What are you all doing?

The game’s not over.

There’s still a minute and a half left."

Everyone looked at the scoreboard.

Still 1:30.

Still time.

Still a chance.

But no one moved.

The tension crackled — not from rivalry, but from a shared understanding that the game, in its truest sense, had already ended.

Vin, still on one knee, raised his voice — hoarse, broken.

"Let’s all stop this..."

He looked around at his team — Zeke, Silas, Kaia, Dante.

"...I’m done."

.....

Silence again. A deep one.

Then Louie broke it, spinning a ball on one finger, shrugging with a cocky grin:

"Well, I didn’t think this is how it’d end. But hey — guess even beasts know when to call it quits."

Lucas nodded solemnly.

"We didn’t come here to kill each other. Just to prove something.

I think we all did."

Evan simply whispered:

"Yeah... it’s enough."

.......

And for the first time since the match began —

Two teams stood as equals.

Broken, but together.

In the chaos, they had found something that mattered more than victory:

Understanding.

To be continue