Chapter 251: All Out War: Blacklist VS Raptors

In a VIP lounge way up in a skyscraper, three men wearing expensive suits sat around a glass table covered with gadgets, half-drunk whiskey glasses, and papers. The whole city sparkled behind them through the huge window like someone spilled glitter everywhere.

The bald guy with a thick gold watch spun his drink around in his fingers before speaking.

"So, those number for next season look pretty good," he said, sounding bored but also kind of pleased. "If we sign that energy drink deal, we are looking at twelve percent more money."

The older silver-haired guy leaned back in his chair laughing, the leather creaking under him.

"Nice. But honestly? I just want to know if you are watching the game tonight."

The youngest guy, who clearly did not care, glanced at his watch and sighed. "Underground Breakball again? I have work tomorrow morning. All those matches look the same after a while."

The silver-haired guy’s grin grew wider, like he knew something juicy.

"No no no, this one is different. People are going absolutely crazy over it. Blacklist versus the Raptors. Some new hotshot guy versus an actual murderer on the court."

That made the younger guy pause. He stopped playing with his cufflinks.

"Hotshot? Who?"

Now the bald guy got excited, leaning forward so fast his drink almost spilled.

"Nash Blaze. The guy has barely played any games and already owns the whole Underground scene. The way he runs? The crazy passes? Nobody has seen anything like this in years. Sponsors are fighting each other to put his name on their products. Tonight is his first real fight against someone who might actually wreck him. If he beats the Raptors? Boom. Everyone will fight to buy anything with his name on it."

The younger guy actually smiled.

"Everyone loves him? Oh, maybe sweat money isn’t so outdated after all. Alright, fine. Show me this guy."

Meanwhile, deeper in the Underground, in a hangar, the Crimson Talons team and coaches were packed into a room.

Assistant Coach Lena Voss, a strict-looking woman with glasses, stood in front of a floating screen full of game clips. She clicked through Nash’s highlights with a remote, looking serious.

"They will be our next opponent, so this will be the perfect opportunity to learn about their game," she said flatly. "Yes they lost their shooter yesterday. On paper they should be weaker now. But do not be stupid. Everything runs through this guy."

The screen zoomed in on Nash doing some impossible pass between three defenders without even looking.

"How he moves. How he sees the court. The guy barely sits out, meaning his stamina is insane. He can go full on the entire game."

One of the players, a giant guy named Kruger who looked like he ate trucks for breakfast, raised his hand lazily, grinning like an idiot.

"Hey miss, can we see that huge chick again? The tall one. Forgot her name."

"Jaz," Lena said through clenched teeth. "And focus."

Kruger shrugged, still grinning.

"Just saying... she is like a damn building with a big ass ass and big ass boobs. Kind of hard to concentrate, you know?"

The whole room burst out laughing. Lena’s eye twitched like she was counting to ten in her head.

"The fuck is a big ass ass?" A slim guy laughed, slapping Kruger’s back.

Their head coach rubbed his temples like he had a migraine coming on.

"You guys really want to take this lightly? They are new, but they have momentum."

Another player laughed.

"Coach, come on. They are babies who already lost someone important. They will crumple the second we hit them hard. That’s the usual sauce." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Kruger raised his hand again.

"Speaking of sauce... what was the tall girl’s name?"

More laughter.

Lena slammed her ruler on the table so hard it cracked. Everyone shut up immediately.

"I knew you would act like idiots," she said quietly at first, then her voice got sharp. "That is exactly why we are watching tonight. So you know exactly who is coming for your silly’s asses." She stared them all down one by one. "We will see if he is a joke... or the real damn deal."

Outside, the arena was going crazy.

Thousands of fans pushed through the gates, half wearing Blacklist’s black and silver, half in Raptors green and gold. Ticket scalpers screamed prices while shoving each other. Street vendors sold glowing junk and overpriced beer that smelled like piss. The air stank of greasy food and sweat and pure hype.

"BLACKLIST! BLACKLIST!" some teenage fans chanted by the doors, their faces painted with Nash’s number.

Some Raptors fan wearing a dinosaur mask yelled back, "You all are going to be fossils after tonight!"

Inside, the noise was so loud one’s ears could hurt. People stood on chairs waving signs that said dumb stuff like:

- "Nash Blaze=Next God"

- "Raptors Chew Up Newbies"

- "BL∆ZE WØRLD"

At home, thousands more crowded around TVs in dirty bars and tiny apartments eating cheap snacks.

"This is it!" The commentator screamed on screen. "The bloodbath is about to begin! Can this golden boy survive getting eaten alive?!"

Up in her fancy private lounge even higher than the VIPs, Monique sat like an evil queen on her velvet couch, legs crossed, waving one of those golden fans.

Baby-Boom’s girls plus their staff were all crammed around a huge screen looking uncomfortable.

"Ohhhh," Monique sighed dramatically, fanning herself way too hard. "I simply cannot wait to see that little pute’s team crushed tonight. After this joke is over, mes chéries, all you must do is win. Then that stubborn fool will finally understand," she snapped her fan shut with a sharp noise, "that he will have much better pussy waiting here than in that filthy dump she calls an empire."

The Baby-Boom girls exchanged nervous glances. Aiko clenched her jaw hard, pressing her fists against her thighs. The others fidgeted but kept quiet.

The arena was alive like a giant animal growling in the dark.

Eighteen thousand people all screaming at once, like, actually screaming, not just cheering. The stands were packed tight, people waving those stupid glowing sticks, turning the whole place into a flashing mess of silver and black versus green and gold. The air smelled like sweat, spilled beer, and something electric, like right before a thunderstorm hits.

Down in Section 112, Lina and Sarra were losing their minds, faces painted up with silver streaks and Nash’s number scrawled across their cheeks in messy paint. A few rows over, Amara waved one of those stupid little fans with Nash’s face printed on it, drowning in a jersey that was way too big for her.

And then there was Roam, arms crossed like someone pissed in his coffee, scowling at nothing. Next to him, Saya had her eyes glued to the tunnel where the players would come out. Even Drex showed up, hood pulled up, sitting alone in the nosebleed seats, staring down like he wanted to murder someone.

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

This was something else.

Inside the Blacklist locker room, Victoria stood in the middle like the second evil queen. Wearing a designer black dress to a breakball game, with old jewelry glinting, sunglasses halfway down her nose so you could see her saphir eyes, she looked like she was about to give a speech at a fancy dinner, not pump up a team.

"The lineup is simple," she said. "Nash, Jaz, Nia, Alicia, Mac. The rest of you? Benchwarmers. Try not to make me regret this."

The guys who didn’t make the starting five crossed their arms, pretending they didn’t care, but you could tell they were pissed.

Victoria pushed her sunglasses all the way down, and her voice got even colder.

"Listen up. If you screw up out there, it better be because the other team was just that much better. If I see lazy, half-assed trash? Might as well call yourself the next Drex."

And then she just left. No pep talk, no bullshit. Just walked out like she had better places to be.

Nash finished tying his shoes and stood up. The girls looked tense, shoulders stiff, fingers tapping against their legs, eyes darting around. He stepped into the middle of them.

"Chill," he said, voice calm, like he wasn’t about to walk into a war. "Same as any other game. Doesn’t matter how bad it looks, we’ve dug ourselves out of worse in practice. Just play like you know how. I’ve got your backs."

Jaz let out a slow breath and nodded. Nia grinned and cracked her knuckles. Alicia gave him this little smile, like she was ready to set the world on fire.

They looked better. Not relaxed, but ready.

"Alright," Nash said, clapping his hands once. "Let’s go."

The hallway leading to the court was loud, really loud. The crowd noise echoed off the walls, vibrating through the floor. Both teams lined up, waiting to be announced. The air was thick, heavy, like before a storm.

And the Raptors?

Holy shit, they were huge.

Like, three of them were taller than Nash and Jaz, all muscle and scars and tattoos, the kind of guys who looked like they bench-pressed trucks for fun. Next to them, Alicia and Nia looked tiny. Mac? He looked like a kid standing next to them.

Nia swallowed hard.

"They’re... huge," she whispered.

One of the Raptors, a smug asshole with tattoos crawling up his neck, grinned at her, tongue swiping over his teeth.

"Hey, shortstack. You girls here to actually play, or just to look pretty under us?" He laughed, like it was the funniest joke in the world. "We didn’t even get the usual pre-game call. What happened? Your team is too cheap to pay for proper motivation?"

Another one snorted, eyes raking over Alicia.

"Especially you, sweetheart. Bet you’d look real nice bent over, taking it."

"Then show us how you look bent over." Nash moved before anyone else could, shoving their captain, Jax, hard in the chest.

The big man stumbled back a step, face twisting into rage, but the second his eyes locked onto Nash, he froze.

Because Nash wasn’t as forgettable as a certain cuck captain.

He was planted. Broad shoulders, arms thick with muscle, stance solid like he could take a hit from a freight train and not budge. His eyes were cold, dark, like a predator staring down its next meal.

Jax swallowed, then forced a laugh, trying to play it off.

"Relax, golden boy. Just messing around." He smirked, but it was weak. "Lucky bastard, surrounded by all these hot girls every day. Hey, how about you hand one over after the game? Maybe we’ll go easy on you."

The Raptors chuckled behind him.

Nash didn’t laugh, didn’t smirk. He just stepped closer, forcing Jax to tilt his head back slightly. The tunnel went dead silent.

"Who needs a handicap to beat you?" Nash asked. "Save the trash talk for when I actually need motivation. You’re lucky this is just a game... because the only ass-whooping you’re getting tonight is on the court."

He turned back to his team, giving one last glare to the Raptors, like he’d rip someone apart if they even thought about touching his girls.

The girls relaxed, just a little, like they remembered Nash wasn’t just their captain, he was their shield in this world.

Jax rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck.

"Big words, rookie. We’ll teach you a lesson."

Then the lights in the arena cut out.

Everything went black, just for a second, before a single spotlight hit the tunnel entrance.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... YOUR BLACKLIST STARTING FIVE!"

The crowd exploded.

Nash led them out first, jogging onto the court with the girls right behind him. Mac was there too, just... less noticeable.

The roar was deafening, like standing next to a jet engine. Silver lights flashed everywhere, and suddenly the whole place was chanting his name.

"NASH! NASH! NASH!"

Then the Raptors got announced, and their side of the crowd answered with just as much fury.

Both teams lined up at center court.

Jax glared at Nash like he wanted to stab him. Nash just stared back, completely unshaken.

The ref stepped between them, holding the ball.

"Captains, shake hands."

But neither moved at first.

They kept staring at each other, adding fuel to the crowd’s hunger.

Then Jax stuck his hand out with this stupid, mocking grin. Nash gripped it, hard, hard enough that Jax’s smirk flickered for half a second.

Oh yeah. That grip wasn’t your average Roam’s.

The ref tossed the ball high.

Both of them jumped, muscles straining, hands reaching, and the whole arena held its breath.

The war had officially begun.