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... he midday sun baking the asphalt as Ryan Carter squared off against the masked man.
A crowd of forty-plus packed the chain-link fence, phones up, filming every second.
The six-foot-eight stranger, cap low and mask hiding his face, dribbled with a slow, menacing rhythm, his linebacker build looming over the faded lines.
First to seven, make-it-take-it, no fouls—pure street rules.
The masked man smirked behind his face covering.
"You’re the pro, so I’ll take ...
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