Nash drifted down the street, solo. Streetlights buzzing up above, painting everything in that sickly yellow haze on the pavement, while the underground cab carrying Amara vanished around the corner like a closed chapter.
He didn't rush. Didn't check his phone. Didn't fix his hair or adjust anything about himself. He just walked, thoughts turning over in his chest like slow water.
He had just had sex.
For the first time.
Not the pretend kind. Not the stuff you do in your head or under a blanket at 2 a.m. Not the fake bravado, not the porn soundtrack echoing in your skull.
Real. Actual. Sex.
Skin on skin, breath tangled up between bodies, hands everywhere, hips, moans, heat, sweat, mess, all of it, only the kisses missing.
And it was…
Phenomenal.
He hadn't known it would feel like that.
Not just physically, though, even if that was crazy enough. His whole insides were fireworks. Warmth, her breasts moving under his hands, her body sliding against his, no guessing, no imagining, just raw, unfiltered reality.
The grip of her thighs, the hot slide of her hips against him, the sound of her breathless whimpers as she clenched around him, real. The moment of release, thick and loud and sticky, buried in heat so viscous it felt like drowning in ecstasy.
He could still feel the shape of her ass in his hands, soft but full, bouncing under his grip like some kind of dream he'd never forget. He looked at his fingers, half-expecting to see fingerprints made of memory.
He knew it then; he couldn't go back to who he was before. Not to "nice guy" mode. Not too innocent. He'd tasted something fierce, something that made you want. And he'd want it again.
He'd been a virgin, what, a week ago? Some awkward dude too scared to even ask for a kiss. Always sure he'd screw it up, get laughed at, just fade into the background. On the court? Invisible. With the girls? Ghost. Terrified to admit he wanted more.
Now he'd jumped right in. Not even fancy, no slow jams, no scented candles, no cutesy love talk. Just opportunity, seized. Like a play, a tactic, a bet, and he'd won.
That easy.
Wait... was it supposed to be that easy?
Shouldn't your first time be, like, epic? Special? Some movie moment?
Hell if he knew. His body was still buzzing, still basking, still warm in places that had nothing to do with the air.
He grinned.
Whatever people said it should be, it felt good. It felt real.
And he hadn't panicked. Didn't freeze up. He took the lead. Actually led.
He carried that with him. A little pride, tucked away in his chest, burning steadily.
The system didn't show it yet, but he wasn't that little shrimp anymore.
He pictured his old teammates, those people who'd mocked him, made him the butt of every joke. Imagined them seeing him now. Strolling down the street, post-game, post-sex, post-victory.
They'd have lost their minds.
He slowed, looked at his hand again.
Yeah, something had changed. And, for once, it wasn't just about touching a girl's ass.
It was a win.
Not just in his head. This wasn't about some petty, "I'll show them" fantasy.
Now, he could do things. Pull cash out of nowhere. Bulk up. Bend people to his will. Seduce, intimidate, whatever. Everything he'd never had? Just stats and upgrades away. If he could just increase his Breakball game enough…
He could be the best in the world.
Not just on the court. In the whole system.
And he had the weapon to bring anyone to their knees. Women were already reacting to him, his smell, his stare, that heat rolling off him.
He made a fist, feeling the weight. Not just power, possibility.
He opened his interface.
Stats Available:
• BP: 8
• SP: 20
• PP: 5
• Funds: 1,105C
That walk, that talk, the way she radiated sex like it was cologne.
She wasn't new either; she was a damn veteran. Easily triple digits, probably. Heartbreaker. Virgin hunter.
And Nash? One-for-one. Rookie stats, big dreams.
So, how do you beat the pro?
He thought about it.
You don't out-tech her. You don't just hang in there and hope.
You hit where it counts.
Control. Stamina. Make her chase you. Flip the script.
Don't get swallowed up.
Make her think she's the one getting played.
He tapped his stats.
Time to fight a legend on her turf and conquer her.
The first thing he did was zero in on the SP pool.
"Alright," he grumbled, cracking his knuckles. "Let's not kid ourselves."
At 30 virility and 19 endurance, he might as well have been a dude who could get hard but would fizzle out faster than a dollar-store firework. Total "shows up to a gunfight with a pool noodle" vibes.
And for tonight, up against Nia of all people? Not even close to enough.
He hovered over the size upgrades for a second, length, and girth, but then paused.
What was the point of a bigger dick if he finished during foreplay? What good was an appeal if he gassed out before the real game started?
No. That could wait. First, he needed to last. Control it. Own it. He didn't even need to be above average. Not for today, at least, he made Amara his girl just in one minute after all.
He allocated his points methodically:
+5 Endurance → (24): Buy him time. More than anything, he needed that buffer to ride the storm. +4 Virility → (34): Raise the floor, make his body bounce back faster, bring drive and recovery. +4 Domination → (27): Give him some presence. Let him push back when she took control. +3 Tease → (34): Because he needed to know how to mess with her first. Let her feel the heat build. +4 Control → (57): Anchor it all. Keep his head in the game.
SP spent: 20. All in.
Next: PP. Performance Points were Breakball-oriented. Still, some spillover applied.
+2 Strength → (35): Could help with positioning, both on the court and on the bed. +1 Stamina → (49): Marginal gain, but it counted. +2 Defense → (35): Because why not? Might as well level the mental game now than being ridiculous in the game.
PP spent: 5. Locked.
Then BP.
+2 Muscle Mass Index → (52): Just to bulk a bit. Lean wasn't bad, but more was more. +2 Recovery Speed → (57): Never hurt to bounce back quicker. Especially after Amara. +2 Flexibility → (63): If he was going to adapt mid-act, this mattered. +2
BP spent: 8.
After the changes, something strange happened.
His body sharpened in the mirror of his mind, shoulders broader, chest firmer, eyes more intense. He blinked, surprised by the clarity. He actually looked better.
But not just looked, he felt it too.
Something had clicked. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands. And then, like a wave crashing in, the messages started to pour in front of him, system prompts lighting up one after another.
Visual Impact Rating: ★★★☆☆
Titles Updated: [Gym Rat], [Breakball Hustler], [Natural Talent]
Tier Ascended → Tier: Rookie
Tier Bonus – Rookie:
• +15% Appeal in public and private interactions
• +10% Attraction radius (in both social and sexual zones)
• +10% Credit Gain from matches, quests, and crowd tips
• +1 Bonus Stat Point per completed quest
• +5% Boost to all XP and Performance stat growth
• +10% Initial Arousal when engaging in new sexual encounters
• Slightly enhanced stamina recovery after an effort
Nash just stared at the glowing words, brain short-circuited.
He blinked. Once. Then again, slower, like maybe if he squinted hard enough it'd change.
Nope. Still there. He slumped back against the wall, lungs catching on the way out.
"What the actual..."
Not disbelief. More in a weird, silent freakout. A gut-punch moment that says, Hey, reality's optional.
He'd been whining about the system treating him like a shrimp, and just a second later? It listened.
Tier: Rookie.
He read the bonuses again, mouth hanging a little open.
+15% Appeal? +10% Attraction radius? Credits, stat points, all that jazz?
His whole set-up just got a cheat code. And that last bit, enhanced recovery and extra arousal when things got spicy?
He let out a shaky breath, lips tugging up into this slow, cocky grin.
This was real. He was changing. Not just playing the game, he was in it now.
Euphoria crept in, not loud or flashy. Just that low, electric buzz, like a storm building up somewhere deep.
He raked a hand through his hair, heart jackhammering.
"Alright," he muttered, half to himself, "what else you got for me?"
His eyes darted back to the screen.
Unopened Crystals:
• [Crystal #1: ??] • [Crystal #2: ??] • [Crystal #3: ??]
All of them filled with an infinity of possibilities.
He poked at the Crystal #1.
The screen flared up, dumping violet light everywhere.
[Crystal #1 Opened!]
Passive Trait Unlocked: Aphrodisiac Generator
Your semen becomes a potent aphrodisiac. Upon climax during sex, target's arousal spikes (+25% Lust), with lingering aftereffects increasing affection and susceptibility for the next hour. Increased semen flow with each release.
Nash's jaw about hit the floor.
He let out a breath, almost a laugh.
"No way..."
That wasn't just a good skill. For a guy who'd barely popped his cherry? That was god-tier. Insane.
He mulled it over, eyes narrowing. Usually, cumming was the closure of every sexual intercourse. But with this...
One finish could actually be the start of the battle.
Could he keep going? Would they want it more? Could he just roll right through exhaustion? Consent? Would one mistake turn into an invitation?
The real deal was that she might want more, but he would be too toasted to give her more. But beside, it was actually kind of scary. He was a walking, talking addiction now.
He clenched his jaw, grinned anyway. Gonna have to play it smart.
"This thing's wild..."
He tapped Crystal #2.
[Crystal #2 Opened!]
Active Skill Unlocked:
Break Sync
For 6 seconds, enter a reactive state where your dribble rhythm and footwork can't be read. Opponent's movement prediction is nullified. While active, +30% agility and movement speed. Cooldown: 3 minutes.
Nash read it once. Twice. Then just snorted, shaking his head.
"Holy shit, these crystals are just perfect."
Six seconds of being a total ghost. In Breakball, that's death for anyone trying to keep up. Although 3 minutes was a problem, this could reduce his lack of talent in dribbling.
And more than anything, it was only the beginning.
He slammed a finger on the last crystal.
[Crystal #3 Opened!]
Recovery Boost: +10% Stamina Recovery Speed, 25% chance to instantly bounce back after physical or sexual effort.
And then, the doors of Heaven opened, or maybe Hell.
"Recover... Fuck yes!!!"
He blurted it out, fists up like he'd just won the lottery. This was it, the upgrade he'd been praying for.
This boost, this was what any sportsman dreamed of. Although, it was his second priority.
This skill was the ultimate weapon for a 90-seconds guy.
Now? Didn't have to hold back. He could blow his load right off the bat, didn't matter, he'd be good as new in no time.
He could go again. And again. Hell, maybe more if he pushed it.
There was more behind these math, but he was too satisfied to consider the frequency of a probability of 25% to happen.
To him, it was like someone installed a reset button in his body.
And with what was coming tonight?
That was more than good.
He checked the time. Still early, late afternoon at best. Perfect.
No way was he wasting daylight. Not when he had this momentum, this fire in his veins, this raw new edge he was just starting to understand. The kind of edge that needed pressure to sharpen.
He gritted his teeth and took off toward the court, fast, hungry.
Screw waiting. He had hours to grind. Time to stack more buffs before nightfall.