Extra Basket-Chapter 88 - 75: One Week Later

Location: Lucas Gym

Time: 7:50 AM

Date: July 13, 2010 – Monday

The sun hadn’t even climbed fully over the Virginia hills, but Lucas Gym was already buzzing with the rhythm of basketballs slamming against hardwood. The sound of sneakers squeaking, grunts of effort, and the whistle of drills echoed within the tall brick walls.

Ethan Albarado stood at the entrance, the gym lights casting long shadows behind him. His eyes scanned the court with quiet intensity.

It’s been one week since Greg’s tragic death.

One week since Ethan’s late-night encounter with that masked figure on the monitor—the one who promised they’d "meet again... in the tournament."

But today wasn’t about cryptic threats. Today was about the team.

The Vorpal Basket squad.

He watched them warm up from a distance, noting each movement, each improvement. He had poured everything into them this past week. Sweat. Hours. Harsh truths. And growth.

..

Evan Cooper — Point Guard

The steady engine. Still the most dependable.

Since training with Ethan, Evan had sharpened like a blade. His passes now carried

intention, his crossovers sliced deeper, and his pull-up jumper found the net more often than not.

He barked out plays with new confidence, no longer just executing—he was leading.

...

Josh Turner — Shooting Guard

Still wrapping his leg, still limping slightly, but not broken.

Ethan didn’t go easy on him. Reps. Form. Footwork. Mental reps again.

Josh’s shot was tighter now, his form more compact. He hit corner threes like clockwork during scrimmages.

There was fire in his eyes again.

He didn’t want sympathy—he wanted minutes.

...

Aiden White — Small Forward

Lighter on his feet than a week ago.

His explosiveness wasn’t back, but his hunger was.

Ethan helped him center his balance, calm his thoughts.

Now, when Aiden pulled up for a jumper, there was intent, not hesitation.

And on defense? He made up for lost bounce with sharp reads and fast hands.

...

Ryan Taylor — Power Forward

Once a wild, uncoordinated ball of energy.

Now?

Focused.

Ethan drilled footwork, taught him angles, and forced him to watch tapes late into the night.

His post moves weren’t pretty, but they worked.

He boxed out harder. Crashed the glass smarter. And for once—Ryan didn’t just play hard. He played smart.

..

Brandon Young — Center

A walking mountain who used to trip over his own feet.

No more.

Ethan had simplified things: Catch. Turn. Finish. Protect. Repeat.

Brandon’s hands were better now. His screens were cleaner.

And every block he made in practice came with a growl.

The team finally had a rim protector—and Brandon knew it.

..

The Bench – Forged in Fire

Coonie Smith

Still flashy. Still unpredictable.

But Ethan slowed him down—just enough.

Now he picked his spots, stopped turning the ball over every other play, and started making smarter reads.

He was still chaos—but now he was controlled chaos.

Jeremy Park

The silent worker.

Ethan had pushed him harder than anyone else, and it showed.

He boxed out. Made sharp cuts. Set perfect off-ball screens.

He didn’t score—but coaches smiled when he was on the court.

Glue guy.

Kai Mendoza

The wildest of them all.

Ethan had made him redo drills until his legs gave out.

Now, Kai played like a live wire on defense.

Still unpredictable—but now he dove for loose balls, disrupted passing lanes, and brought energy that could flip games.

Used right—Kai was a grenade.

....

And then, standing off to the side, finishing a set of drills with sweat dripping from his brow...

Louie Gee Davas — #5

Just 13 years old.

But his streetball skills were raw brilliance—handles like an artist, creativity like a storm.

But this week, Ethan taught him control.

How to read spacing.

When to pass instead of pull up.

How to make his flash serve the team—not just his ego.

And Louie absorbed it.

Not easily. Not quietly.

But surely.

He still spun defenders, still threw no-look dimes, still scored with circus layups.

But now—he listened.

"You’ve got the gift," Ethan told him during one midnight workout.

"I’m just here to make sure it doesn’t burn you alive."

...

And finally...

Lucas Graves — #10

Ethan’s eyes landed on him last.

The anomaly.

The unpredictable variable in a world, the protagonist in this world.

13 days since gaining Absolute Mimicry.

13 days of evolution.

Lucas wasn’t just copying anymore.

He was creating.

Ethan had watched it happen in real-time—moves borrowed from legends, stitched together in real-time like a jazz solo.

Now?

Lucas could go from a William hesitation to an Iverson euro, finishing like Jordan—all in a single play.

His first step—a blur.

His handles—unreadable.

His stamina—unrelenting.

And then there was the new skill Ethan had only seen once...

Iverson Speed Burst.

When it activated, Lucas would vanish from defenders’ eyes.

Like pressing a turbo button.

But it came at a cost.

Each use took a toll.

"(He’s still human,)" Ethan thought.

"(But that power is turning him into something else...)"

....

Ethan exhaled, finally stepping fully into the gym.

The team noticed him.

Ball movement slowed.

Eyes turned.

Lucas smiled faintly from the far end, dribbling without looking down.

Ethan nodded at them all.

"(This...)" he thought, "(We are now ready.)"

He clenched his fists slightly.

"This... is the beginning of something bigger."

.......

Meanwhile...

Location: Crescent Ridge – Chicago Raptors Training Facility

Date: July 13, 2010 – Monday | Time: 8:20 AM

Sweat clung to the court like a second skin. The sound of squeaking sneakers, bouncing balls, and echoing grunts filled the polished gym floor.

Jalen "Flash" Carter sprinted from end to end, dribbling two balls at once while dodging cones.

"C’mon, Flash! You ain’t fast—you’re just loud!" Tyrese Lang called out from the sidelines, leaning lazily against the wall.

Jalen didn’t miss a beat. He crossed both balls behind his back, spun around a cone, and shouted back, "Loud enough to drown out your bricks!"

Tyrese snorted, picked up a ball, and casually swished a corner three.

"That was for the haters," he muttered.

(Okay... that was clean) Jalen thought, trying not to let his surprise show. He fumbled one of the balls mid-dribble and quickly recovered.

Malik Ryker walked past him holding a resistance band like a belt. "Stop flirting and get back to work."

"Who’s flirting?" Jalen shot back. "If I was flirting, I’d at least comb my hair."

Tyrese, without missing a beat: "You’d need hair for that."

Everyone in the gym groaned.

"OOOH! Cooked you!" Malik laughed, high-fiving Tyrese.

(Why do I even talk to them?)

Meanwhile, at the far end of the court...

Zion Vale stood silently, watching tape on a tablet while shooting one-handed free throws with his left hand. The ball bounced off the rim, but he didn’t look up.

"Zion," Jalen called out, "You even miss like it’s on purpose."

Zion didn’t blink. "I calculated the bounce trajectory. I wanted a 47° angle to test backspin impact."

The gym fell quiet for a beat.

Malik scratched his head. "Man, just say you missed."

........

Jalen "Flash" Carter – PG (#2)

Age: 15 | Height: 6’2"

Lightning quick. The playmaker. The firestarter.

He dribbled in rhythm, eyes narrowed, as if already seeing the future.

"(I can’t wait for the game,)" he thought, ball bouncing steadily. "(I’ve been waiting for this.)"

Then he turned to his brothers-in-arms:

The Starting Five

Tyrese Lang – SG (#3) "The Ghost Shooter"

Age: 16 | Height: 6’1"

Moves like fog. Shoots like a machine. Can erupt for 10 points in a flash.

3PT Shooting: 23

Off-ball Movement: 21

Composure: 20

Malik Ryker – SF (#9) "The Lock"

Age: 16 | Height: 5’10"

A defensive wall with spring-loaded legs. Can shut down your best scorer, then dunk on the break.

Defense: 22

Driving/Dunks: 21

Lateral Speed: 20

Zion Vale – PF (#8) "The Chessboard"

Age: 15 | Height: 5’11"

Sees three moves ahead—offense or defense. Smooth and surgical.

Basketball IQ: 23

Passing: 21

Versatility: 22

Kobe "Tower" Morales – C (#11) "Twin Pillar"

Age: 16 | Height: 6’4"

The anchor. Quiet. Cold. Dominates the paint with calm cruelty.

Shot Blocking: 23

Post Defense: 22

Rebounding: 21

Jalen’s eyes swept over them. His team. His weapons. His war-ready brothers.

He spun the ball in his hand once, then caught it.

"Alright everyone," he said, voice steady and sharp.

"Let’s do this."

......

Meanwhile Inside Lucas Graves’ Gym – 12 noon

The overhead lights buzzed softly above the polished hardwood floor, casting a clean reflection of the half-folded futons, the stacked cones in the corner, and a massive Vorpal Basket banner pinned over the far wall. This wasn’t just a gym—it was home, headquarters, and hideout all in one.

The scent of teriyaki chicken, garlic rice, and a faint trace of sweat-soaked effort clung to the air like an invisible curtain.

A folding table, dented from years of use and covered with half-eaten takeout containers, stood at the center. The Vorpal Basket starters crowded around it, legs draped over benches, chairs stolen from mismatched corners of the gym, chopsticks clicking in sync like a strange percussive beat.

Lucas Graves sat cross-legged on the bench like a monk mid-meal, mouth full of rice.

"Don’t drop rice on the court," he mumbled. "My sister will make us run suicides just for disrespecting the floor."

Ethan, sitting across from him, raised an eyebrow and gave a short chuckle.

(That’s not even a joke. She will.)

Louie, digging into grilled vegetables, looked up, unimpressed. "You’re eating with your shoes on, and I’m the problem?"

Lucas paused mid-chew, then slowly stared at his own feet.

(...He’s got a point.)

Ethan smiled and nodded, stifling a laugh. The quiet bond between them—rooted in grind, rivalry, and respect—was always charged with playful chaos.

Ryan Taylor poked at his vegetables like they’d committed a crime. "Why we always eating healthy here? I swear this broccoli is looking at me."

Aiden White leaned back, laughing. "It is looking at you. That’s guilt. It knows you tried to trade it for an energy bar earlier."

Josh Turner smirked and sipped from his bottle. "You know Louie got a meal plan from a nutritionist, right? I heard they analyzed his blood and told him he’s 70% Gatorade."

Louie casually wiped his mouth. "Wrong. I’m 70% ambition, 30% pettiness. Y’all better be ready for Saturday."

Evan Cooper, still chewing, leaned back in his chair. "Why, you transforming into buff boy or something?" he said with a smirk.

The whole table burst into laughter.

"Don’t tease him too much." Ryan wheezed, clutching his stomach. As he laughs the most out of them.

"You’re the one who laughed the loudest!" Louie pointed with a chopstick, grinning.

The bench players were posted near the wall, finishing their food a little less chaotically—but still very much part of the rhythm.

Kai Mendoza, arms crossed, stood like a commander surveying a war table. "Ethan," he called out. "Are the team we’re fighting on July 28 confirmed yet?" freёnovelkiss.com

Ethan wiped his mouth with a napkin and nodded. "Well... Coach is on it now."

Coonie, his arms covered in tape from earlier drills, rolled his eyes. "That pig of a coach is always incompetent."

Jeremy Park raised a hand dramatically like a philosopher. "Indeed. What can we do? He is... a pig coach."

Laughter erupted again, even from the starters.

Lucas nearly choked on his rice. "Jeremy! You can’t just... bro..."

(I’m gonna get kicked out of my own gym at this rate.)

Brandon clapped once. "If he hears this, he’ll make us run drills till our legs fall off."

Louie, still chewing, shrugged. "I’m good. I’ll just Gatorade-rehydrate my ambition."

The air stayed thick with food, jokes, and a sense of tense relaxation—a calm before the storm. Somewhere, deep beneath the joking, every player felt it.

To be continue

Jalen "Flash" Carter – Point Guard (#2)

Height: 6’2"

Age: 15

Team: Chicago Raptors (Pro Youth Division)

Position: Point Guard

Nickname: Flash

...

Background:

Jalen Carter isn’t just a phenom—he’s the standard. Born with absurd talent and an obsessive work ethic, Jalen became a household name before he was old enough to drive. He’s played against pros in private runs and dominated nationally ranked high school seniors since he was 13. Scouts, coaches, and players alike speak of him in the same breath as generational names.

Raised on the West Side of Chicago, Jalen learned to combine survival court instincts with disciplined fundamentals. Every move he makes is intentional. Every step, calculated. He’s not just flashy—he’s efficiently devastating. No wasted motion. No fear. Just pure, overwhelming control.

[Core Attributes – All Above 20]

(Note: 20 is considered peak pro. Jalen breaks that ceiling.)

[Offensive Attributes]

Shooting Accuracy: 23

Unreal precision. Can hit from anywhere—fadeaways, logo threes, one-footed sidestep jumpers. Double teams don’t matter.

Layup Skill: 24

Think Kyrie Irving at his absolute best—then elevate it. Air control, ambidextrous finishing, and split-second improvisation that stuns defenders.

Dunk Skill: 22

Despite his height, he defies gravity. Posterizes centers, launches off one or two feet, and finishes with power or finesse.

Dribbling Skill: 25

Unstoppable. Handles like water. Moves so sharp they look like illusions. Can break double-teams with nothing but footwork and a flick of the wrist.

Passing Skill: 22

Sees plays five seconds ahead. Can thread passes through needles, bounce alley-oops off a defender’s shoulder, or fire full-court bullets with either hand.

....

[Defensive Attributes]

Defense: 21

Locked-in every possession. Can guard multiple positions. Reads offenses like a coach and moves with surgical precision.

Blocking Ability: 20

Can reject shots from behind or time blocks perfectly on floaters and layups—even against bigger players.

Steal Skill: 23

Predicts dribble patterns, intercepts passes, and pokes balls loose with invisible hands. Makes turnovers look inevitable.

...

[Physical Attributes]

Stamina: 24

He doesn’t just play the whole game—he controls it from start to finish without a dip in energy.

Endurance: 22

Can go game after game, minute after minute, under full pressure. Recovery rate is freakishly high.

Speed: 25

His nickname "Flash" is literal. First step explodes like a missile. End-to-end, he’s a blur—and yet totally under control.

Signature Ability: "FLASH WORLD – Overclocked Tempo"

Jalen manipulates the flow of the game in ways that feel unreal. When activated, Flash World causes the game to feel like it’s moving in slow motion for Jalen—while his body operates at hyper-speed.

Effects:

• Enhances entire team’s timing, making passes and plays feel automatic.

• Opponents experience reaction delay—he’s always one decision ahead.

• Vision expands to cover full-court awareness.

• Boosts dribbling, passing, and speed to peak +5 levels during activation.