Chapter 23: The genius  

 [Scoreboard Update:]

4:40 minutes left

Orlando Hoops – 96

Vorpal Basket – 87

Jaxon Wells stood at the baseline, gripping the ball firmly. He scanned the court quickly before making a sharp inbound pass to Alec.

Alec caught it, his movements fluid as he started dribbling up the court. He didn't hesitate—he knew who was waiting for him.

Lucas.

Standing firm, eyes locked onto Alec, Lucas was in full defensive stance. His yellow eyes burned with intensity, reading Alec's every move.

(Tsk.) Alec clicked his tongue in frustration.

He wasn't in the mood to deal with Lucas's suffocating defense again. Without a second thought, he swung the ball toward Mason Hayes, who was positioned near the wing.

Mason caught it smoothly.

The moment the ball landed in his hands, Evan Cooper was already in front of him, low and ready.

Mason didn't waste time. He immediately executed a quick crossover, shifting the ball from right to left in an attempt to shake Evan.

But Evan was locked in.

His footwork was sharp, his stance solid. He didn't fall for the move.

Mason's eyes narrowed.

(He's improving.)

He could feel it—Evan was reacting quicker than before, reading his movements with more precision. This wasn't the same defender he had been dealing with earlier.

A few feet away, Ethan Albarado was locked in a one-on-one battle with Ethan Blake. The two Ethan's mirrored each other, every movement calculated.

But Ethan Albarado wasn't focused on just his matchup.

He was watching. Analyzing.

His sharp gaze followed Mason's movements. He saw the crossover, saw Evan keeping up. A small smirk crept onto his lips.

(He probably thinks he's improving.)

Ethan's eyes flickered toward Evan.

(Well, of course, he's improving.)

Ethan knew the reason.

His cards. His skills.

[LEADERSHIP COMMAND ACTIVE.]

[TEAM SYNERGY CARD ACTIVE.]

Even if the boosts weren't massive, a boost was a boost.

And in a high-level game like this, every advantage mattered.

Meanwhile, Julian Watson had possession of the ball, and Ryan Taylor was the one assigned to guard him.

Julian was crafty, unpredictable with his movements. He dribbled with a smooth rhythm, his head up, constantly looking for gaps.

But Ryan wasn't backing down.

He kept his stance strong, moving laterally with Julian's every step.

The battle continued.

And Ethan?

He was watching everything.

Because in the end, this wasn't just about physical skill.

This was a game of minds.

…..

Ethan's eyes scanned the court like a predator analyzing its prey. His mind was sharp, calculating every movement, every weakness in the Orlando Hoops' setup.

His focus shifted toward the paint. Inside, Jaxon Wells and Brandon Young were battling for position.

Meanwhile, Ryan Taylor's attention flickered toward Alec, who was being locked down by Lucas.

Ryan's expression hardened.

(That number 10… Graves. Tsk.)

Lucas's relentless defense was frustrating even their best scorer.

Ryan knew Alec wanted the ball, but passing it now was too risky. He turned back and made a quick pass to Mason instead.

The moment the ball left Ryan's fingertips.

Ethan moved.

Like a shadow slipping past its counterpart, Ethan broke away from Ethan Blake.

Blake's eyes widened.

"Shit!"

Too late.

Ethan read the pass perfectly. He lunged forward, fingertips barely grazing the ball before tipping it away.

The loose ball bounced toward Lucas.

Lucas caught it cleanly.

Alec's reaction was instant—he sprinted after Lucas, determined not to let him get away.

But the moment Lucas gained possession—

"FAST BREAK!!!"

Ethan's voice roared through the court.

And just like that—Vorpal Basket exploded forward.

The moment Ethan's voice rang through the court, Vorpal Basket ignited.

Lucas pushed the ball forward, his yellow eyes locked onto the path ahead. Alec was on him immediately, his speed matching Lucas stride for stride.

(He's not letting me go easy.)

Lucas didn't panic. He controlled his dribble, keeping Alec at his hip as they charged toward the basket.

Behind him, Ethan sprinted, reading the court in an instant. Jaxon Wells was trailing behind, trying to catch up. Mason and Ryan were also retreating, but Vorpal had numbers.

A 3-on-2 advantage.

Lucas had options.

Alec was sticking to him like glue, trying to force him into a bad decision. Mason was stepping up to cut off his drive.

Lucas smirked.

Crossover.

Lucas shifted the ball from his right to left hand, forcing Alec to react.

Then—a quick Behind the Back dribble!

Alec lunged right but Lucas was already gone, shifting left.

(Too slow!)

Lucas dashed into the paint. Mason stepped in front.

Lucas faked a layup…then whipped a no-look bounce pass to Ethan!

Ethan caught it at full speed, just outside the key.

One dribble.

Ethan saw Jaxon Wells rotating to contest the shot.

But Ethan wasn't stopping.

He took one step… elevated—

Pump Fake!

Jaxon bit. He jumped.

Ethan smirked. (Gotcha.)

He shifted mid-air, adjusting his release—

One-hand floater.

The ball arced high…over Jaxon's outstretched fingers—

Swish!

The crowd erupted.

96 – 89.

Lucas jogged back, grinning.

"Nice finish."

Ethan chuckled. "You set me up too well."

Alec gritted his teeth.

They were closing the gap. And fast.

….

BEEP!

The sharp sound of the whistle cut through the tension in the gym.

Timeout – Orlando Hoops.

Coach Corson rubbed his chin, his sharp eyes scanning the court. His team had the lead, but momentum was slipping. Fast.

His mind ran through every defensive scheme possible—Full-court press? Man-to-man lockdown? Zone traps?

None of them would work.

Because of him.

Number 20.

Ethan Albarado.

Corson exhaled through his nose. He knew Coach Fred, the so-called head coach of Vorpal Basket, was useless. That guy couldn't strategize his way out of a paper bag.

No.

The one dictating the game?

That was the kid.

Yellow hair. Blue eyes. Number 20.

Ethan Albarado was running the show.

Corson turned his gaze to the team's manager—Rhiana.

A teenage girl with sharp brown eyes, long dark hair, and a confident posture. She wasn't just any manager—she was meticulous. Corson had assigned her one task before this game.

"Did you do what I asked?"

Rhiana nodded, flipping through her tablet.

"Yes, Coach. I looked into Ethan Albarado like you requested."

Corson leaned forward. "And? Anything special?"

Rhiana hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.

"Not exactly. But… his background is interesting."

She scrolled down on her screen and continued.

"His father, Alfred Albarado, is a former basketball champion. He won multiple titles back in his prime. Now, he works as a sports analyst for BAC—Basketball Asian Company."

Corson's brows twitched. A former pro? That explained some things.

"And his mother?"

"Elle Albarado. A kindergarten teacher."

Corson frowned. A pro-athlete father and a schoolteacher mother?

Then it clicked.

"Tsk… so that's it."

Rhiana looked up. "Coach?"

Corson exhaled.

"His father was a champion—he inherited his basketball IQ from him. His mother's a teacher—so he knows how to communicate and guide his team. That kid…"

He crossed his arms.

"…he's the real deal."

…

Meanwhile Alec side

Alec wiped the sweat from his forehead, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

He glanced at his teammates, then at Coach Corson, who stood deep in thought, arms crossed.

Then his eyes landed on her.

Rhiana.

She was watching.

Alec felt his stomach tighten. It wasn't that he was afraid of losing. No, he wasn't the type to get scared over a game.

But this was different.

Rhiana wasn't just some spectator. She was his girlfriend.

And she had been analyzing the match, breaking it down, dissecting every move, just like she always did.

For a moment, a nervous thought crept into his mind.

(Is she disappointed in me?)

He clenched his fists, looking away. He hated feeling like this—like he wasn't good enough.

But then—a soft smile.

Rhiana's lips curved up, her brown eyes filled with warmth.

She wasn't disappointed. Not even close.

If anything, she looked… proud.

She gave him a small nod—her way of saying, "I believe in you."

Alec's heart pounded.

(Damn it… Now I really can't lose.)

She wasn't just watching. She was supporting him.

And if she was backing him up, then there was no way in hell he was going to let Ethan

Albarado walk all over him.

Not now. Not ever.

…

On the bench, as the players huddled together during the timeout, many audience look at them but one figure stood apart from the rest. Noah Davies, a teenager with a sharp gaze, had his eyes locked onto the court. His focus was unshakable, despite the noise of the cheering fans around him.

Noah wasn't just any ordinary spectator…he was the manager for the Chicago Raptors, a highly-regarded basketball team that was scouting players, keeping tabs on talent, and making their moves in the background.

Though he was young, only a middle school student, his understanding of the game was beyond his years. He was already known among scouts for his deep analysis of player strategies and his ability to see what others often missed. Today, though, his eyes were trained on the Vorpal Basket team.

As he watched Ethan Albarado sit on the sideline, drinking water during the timeout, Noah couldn't help but mutter under his breath.

"This guy…" he said, shaking his head in awe, "his strategy is unique. The way he orders them—there's something else to it."

Noah wasn't the type to be easily impressed, but this game was different. The way Ethan handled the team, his decisions, his ability to shift the flow of the game—it was as if he was playing chess while everyone else was stuck on checkers.

The Chicago Raptors were no strangers to smart tactics, but Ethan's ability to adjust mid-game and manipulate the pace was something else entirely. Ethan was a tactician, not just a player. He could read the court like a battlefield and always knew where to strike.

His mind then shifted to the player Lucas Graves, who had the ball in his hands just moments ago.

Noah's eyes narrowed as he watched Lucas on the court. "And this guy…" he said, impressed, "he can mimic the players. He's a walking chameleon. He copies Orlando's best…Alec Storm, their ace, their leader perfectly. Every move, every step."

He was amazed by Lucas's ability. The way he copied Orlando's star player made him seem like a monster on the court. Lucas wasn't just playing—he was learning in real-time, evolving, adapting. To Noah, it was almost like watching a prodigy in action.

Then his thoughts shifted again, this time to Alec Storm.

"Alec Storm…" Noah whispered to himself. "He's their ace. But he's up against something more than just a strong opponent. This man, Graves number 10, he's no ordinary copycat. He's an adaptive force."

But Noah's mind wasn't done. His gaze drifted to Ethan, sitting quietly, his presence still commanding the sideline. There was something in the way Ethan sat that spoke volumes.

"...But Albarado…" Noah continued, eyes locked on the young tactician, "this guy... he's a general on the court."

Noah felt it. He couldn't hear what Ethan was telling his team, but he could see it in their eyes. The trust in Ethan's leadership. The way the players responded to his commands without hesitation. They weren't just following instructions,they were following a leader.

"The way he orchestrates his team, how he moves the pieces on the court…" Noah said thoughtfully. "This guy is a genius."

Noah's eyes flitted back to Ethan, his respect growing with each passing second. It wasn't just about the game for Ethan, he was playing on a higher level. He could read the court, read his opponents, and create situations where his team was always one step ahead. That wasn't just skill—it was pure genius

"If we ever face them," Noah thought, his mind racing, "it's not Number 10 I'm worried about…it's Number 20. He's the one we need to watch out for."

Ethan Albarado, with his deep understanding of the game, wasn't just a player. He was a mastermind, and that made him dangerous. Noah could already tell that Ethan wasn't just someone you'd outplay. He was someone who would outthink you.

And as the game continued, Noah knew one thing for sure: the Vorpal Basket team, led by Ethan, was no ordinary team. They were a force to be reckoned with.

To be continue