No Touch, All Tingle

Jinzo's face crumpled like he'd just bit into a lemon rind.

"The fuck you mean, you're done?!"

Nia just stood there, arms crossed tight, chest heaving, way too fast. But her voice didn't waver.

"I'm out. That's it."

Mac and Drex, the other Blacklist guys, whipped around so fast you'd think someone fired a gun.

Mac threw his hands up, all drama.

"Yo, deadass? We're already down, you dip, we lose you, we're toast!"

Drex's turn.

"We can't run four-on-five, Nia. You quitting over some weak-ass injury?"

Nia shook her head, eyes flicking to the bleachers, then away.

"No injury. Just... done."

Her voice was weirdly flat. Not pissed, not embarrassed. Just over it. Like a light went out.

Jinzo stomped up, chest puffed, arms swinging like he was about to start shadowboxing.

"You can't fucking quit right now! We got a rep, rats are already talking shit, crowd's watching, what, you folding like some stray in heat?!"

She didn't even blink.

That silence? Harsher than getting cussed out.

Jinzo spun to Jaz, grinding his teeth.

"Babe. C'mon. Talk to her."

Jaz looked like she'd just been smacked with a two-by-four. Still hunched over, hands on her knees, sucking wind.

Nia gave her a glance, just a flick.

Jaz stared at Nia. Then Jinzo. Then back to where Nia'd dropped.

"O-oh… I, uh…"

Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, still sounding like her soul was lagging behind.

"I think maybe… like… she sprung a leak or something?"

Jinzo stared like she'd sprouted antlers.

"What the actual fuck?"

Jaz straightened up, six feet plus of pure intimidation, abs on display, arms like telephone poles. But she sounded like a rookie who forgot her lines.

"I'm just sayin'. She ain't faking. She's not soft. She just… fried, man. That dude's weird."

She flicked her eyes at Nash, standing cool at midcourt.

"Something's up with him," Jaz muttered, scratching her head. "Legs went spaghetti. No joke."

Nash couldn't help it; one eyebrow shot up. Jaz, built like a tank but talking like she'd barely scraped by gym class.

Big girl, not so big on words.

Still, loyal as hell.

Jinzo jumped in front of her, yelling now.

"You too? Don't you dare check out! You're a fuckin' wall, babe, we finish what we start!"

Jaz sniffed, shook her head.

"Nah. I'm tapped. Like… nothing left. Not with that dude out there."

She jerked her chin at Nash again.

Jinzo lost it.

"You both bailing 'cause some sweaty baller with nice cologne made you feel weird?!"

Drex spat on the court. Mac just shook his head, defeated.

Nia's voice cut through, sharp as a slap.

"It's over."

Jaz nodded, lips all tight, like she was trying not to crumble.

"Yeah. Sorry, babe."

And just like that, the crowd detonated.

Cheering, screaming, people leaping over the benches, phones up, pure chaos. One would think they'd won the finals.

"Yo, we did it!"

"We smoked a pro squad!"

"Yo, film this shit! RECORD!"

Fans swarmed Nash and his crew, hoisting them up, yelling, losing their minds. A pro team, humiliated, right there.

"He torched them all!"

"Who the hell is that dude?!"

All noise. All hype.

But some eyes drifted to Nia.

She just stood there, looking like she'd been hit by a truck. Tank top soaked, chest heaving, legs shaking.

She looked more like a walking mating signal than a player at that point.

The smell of her climax was still in the air. As her flushed face turned toward the crowd, something primal cracked in them.

Some guys in the crowd got bold, reaching for her arms, hips, whatever.

"Yo, lemme get a taste!"

"Damn, girl, you leaking?"

One hand went for her shorts, but Jaz was on him in a blink.

"Back the fuck off!"

She checked the guy sideways, then squared up to another, ready to go feral.

"She's not here for your jokes, you thirsty assholes!"

Jaz glared at the mob, arms out, bodyguard mode.

Nia didn't even react, just spaced out, lost somewhere deep inside.

Meanwhile, Nash wiped sweat from his jaw, exhaled like he'd just dumped a mountain off his back.

His interface lit up with messages, nonstop.

REWARDS RECEIVED

Cash Reward:

Base Win: +250C

MVP Flex: +500C

Crowd Hype (Tips): +275C

Stacked Total: +1,025C

STAT BOOSTS

Basketball Stat Boost (MVP Bonus):

+12 Agility → (Now 58)

+10 Reflex → (Now 52)

+8 Focus → (Now 61)

+6 Strength → (Now 33)

+4 Court Sense → (Now 85)

+4 Movement IQ → (Now 61)

+5 Defense → (Now 33)

+5 Short Shot → (Now 52)

+3 Long Shot → (Now 33)

+3 Rebound → (Now 37)

Body Stat Bonus (Overheat Triggered):

+4 Body Points

+5 Muscle Mass Index → (Now 50)

+5 Flexibility → (Now 61)

+3 Recovery Speed → (Now 55)

Seduction Stat Gains (from Overload Effects):

+6 Control → (Now 53)

+5 Tease → (Now 31)

+4 Domination → (Now 23)

+4 Charisma → (Now 40)

+2 Endurance → (Now 19)

You received 3 Stat Crystals (Randomized)!

Crystals can be consumed to unlock random passive or active skills.

3 Random Stat Crystals dropped! Would you like to open them now?

 [Crystal #1: ???] [Crystal #2: ???][Crystal #3: ???]

(Note: Consuming a crystal now may cause immediate stat increases, skill unlocks, or trait evolutions.)

Skill Unlocked:

Exclusive Passive – Aura Presence I

Your presence now carries weight. Opponents within 3m feel pressure. Females with Lust >40 become subtly distracted near you.+5% effectiveness to intimidation, seduction, and post-play staredowns.

[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED – Untouched Climax]

Make a female opponent climax mid-game without direct contact.

REWARD:

+2 Seduction Points

+1 Rare Skill

[PERFORMANCE BONUS – GAME BREAKER]

Triggered when causing multiple opponents to mentally or physically forfeit.

+1 Bonus Skill Point

+1 Bonus Body Point

New Passive Skill Acquired:

Climax Trigger I

Engaging in sexual intercourse has a 20% chance of inducing climax.

Cooldown: 5 minutes per target.

New Passive Skill Acquired:

Command Flow I

[Your court instincts activate a state of deep focus. When triggered, you enter the Zone, slowing perception, heightening awareness, and anticipating enemy plays with intense clarity.]

[Updated Stats: Pending Integration…]

[Your performance has redefined the tier ceiling for a Shrimp-class candidate. System recalibrating eligibility for Class Ascension…]

Nash yanked his shirt down, eyes slicing through the chaos.

People mobbed him, shouting his name, gripping his arms, trying to dap him or maybe just touch a piece of him.

The court was electric. Sweat, heat, hunger... it felt like the whole damn place was breathing.

Girls from the crowd closed in. A couple already flushed thanks to his new passives, now all but melting against him.

One girl with big hoop earrings and another rocking a low-cut jersey latched onto him. Their hands played across his shoulders, eyes glassy, breathing like they just sprinted a mile.

"You're not leaving alone tonight," one whispered, voice all honey and promise.

The other leaned in so close her nose nearly grazed his neck.

"Damn, your sweat smells... unreal."

Nash stayed cool. Didn't have to do a thing. His aura was doing all the heavy lifting.

A girl straight up grinded herself against his side, moaning at the contact. Another mashed her chest to his back, biting her lip, the whole scene dripping with heat and aftershocks. He was the center of gravity, and these girls? Lost in orbit.

[Daily Quest Complete: Social Edge & Arousal Control]

Reward: +3 Seduction Points

He blinked at that. Wait, that counted?

He mentally rewound the day, maybe it started with Zayela, that heated moment in the street. Or Nia, he never even touched her, technically, but she was blushing like crazy. Could this count as a flirt? Jaz, too. And now these girls, all decked out, practically drooling.

Was it the aura? His sweat? Just the way he played?

Then it hit him. His scent.

All that passive stuff just radiating off his skin. That's what pushed it over the edge.

Honestly, a little freaky.

If just standing there set girls off like this… How was he supposed to talk to anyone without starting a riot?

Could be worse problems, though. He'd learn to handle it.

The girls sure weren't complaining. One with bubblegum-pink braids traced his wrist like it was some holy relic.

"You're not leaving without promising something," she purred, biting her lip, eyes full of mischief. "Not a chance."

Nash grinned.

"Relax, I'm not bouncing. You'll get your shot if you're still hungry later."

Another girl, all gloss and attitude, leaned in, her breath warm on his chin.

"Don't you dare ghost, superstar. Bring the pills and bills, too."

That made him pause. Pills and bills, huh?

Right then, he got it. This was the turning point.

When the underworld crowd started seeing you as more than a player. You were a ticket. A shortcut.

A flame they could cling to just long enough to rise out of whatever gutter they were trapped in.

They saw him as a walking golden pig. And it wasn't exactly false; he had a thousand credits in his bank account now.

And still, his face didn't shift.

"Later sounds fair," he said simply. "Let's call it overtime."

They giggled. One whispered she'd be waiting in the back alley behind the taco truck. Another gave him a wink like a bribe.

He was about to speak, to say something his charisma would turn into gold, when she appeared.

Nia.

She was strutting like the world was her catwalk, and honestly? Everyone noticed.

Her hips had that slow, hypnotic rhythm, like she'd figured out the exact speed to make a crowd part, no words needed.

People didn't even realize they were moving, they just... did.

It wasn't fear she inspired, more like this unspoken warning, look all you want, just keep your hands to yourself.

She had some kind of don't-mess-with-me energy.

Yet, she looked so vulnerable.

Her tank top was basically glued to her by sweat, and her legs were still doing a little post-adrenaline tremble. Sweat trickled down her spine.

She caught Nash's gaze and just held it, like she was testing him or daring him to blink.

She stopped right in front of him, close enough that the air between them felt thick, loaded.

At first, she didn't even bother talking. Just stood there, breathing. Taking her damn time.

Then, when she finally spoke, her voice came out low, all heat and challenge.

"You like making girls weak in the knees, huh?" she said, lips curling. "Well, congrats. You got me. I haven't felt like this in forever."

She leaned in, her breath hot against his cheek.

"Corner of 9th and Ember. Top floor. Midnight," she whispered. "Don't punk out. Or I'll make it a whole lot worse for you."

She pressed her lips to his cheek, quick and just a bit rough.

Behind her, her crew was frozen. Jinzo looked like he'd swallowed his tongue. Jaz was gaping, eyes wide, mouth open like she'd forgotten how to close it.

Nia didn't gave so much as a glance back. She just strode off, hips swinging with that same swagger, like she'd lost something crucial and was dead-set on getting it back.

And the place she'd named? Yeah, that was no ordinary address.

That building was basically a neon-lit shrine to the city's dirty secrets. Glass walls, red lights, velvet everything.

Ran all day, every day, stacked with escorts working in shifts. Inside was a mashup, nightclub, brothel, spa, all rolled into one. Every floor had its own vibe. Soft and slow, wild and rough, pick your poison.

They called it the 'Midnight Rest,' but sleeping was the last thing on the menu. If you had the cash, you could get whatever you wanted, no names, no questions, just satisfaction.

The top floor? That was the big leagues. VIPs only.

And Nia had picked it for a damn reason.

Jaz trailed after her, sneaking glances back at Nash, like maybe she was trying to figure him out.

Nash just stood there. Didn't move. Didn't say a thing. He watched Nia walk away, watched the way her ass bounced, all attitude and intention. The way she moved, it wasn't just sexy, it was practiced, like she'd spent years perfecting it.

And then, it clicked.

She didn't just throw out a random address. She gave him a time, a place, a floor.

That wasn't a dare. That was an appointment.

She worked there.

She was one of them.

A top-tier escort from the Midnight Rest. A real pro. The kind you hear about but never actually meet.

And now, all that skill, all that experience, that body, she was aiming it right at him.

He'd gotten her so hot she dropped the act mid-mission. Now she wanted him, on her turf.

Should he be flattered? Worried? Hell if he knew.

Probably a bit of both.