Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball

Chapter 281: Going Down Together

Jinzo and Mac slipped into the city streets, walking in a quiet way, as if the streets had eaten up all the noise. For block after block they did not say a word to each other. There was only the sound of their feet hitting the pavement, fast and nervous, even though no one was following them.In the Underground, it never rained, yet it felt like rain was coming down on them. They had their hoods up and jackets zipped up all the way, collars up. They were trying to stay warm and dry, even though it was not really cold or wet.

Mac kept looking over his shoulder, expecting something or someone to jump out of the shadows. He was really scared.

"You just do not get it," Mac whispered to Jinzo. "Victoria is not some girl you can talk sweet to. She knows things. I swear, she is going to do something to us."

Jinzo slowed down, breathing out slowly. He was not paying attention to Mac; he was just tired of his complaining.

"Shut up," Jinzo snapped. "Stop being a bitch. If you were going to get scared, you should have shut up before we got mixed up in Saya’s plan. It is too late now. Deal with it, Mac."

Mac swallowed hard, feeling sick. He had to run a few steps to keep up with Jinzo’s pace.

"Yeah? How do you expect us to do this without getting caught?" Mac asked. "We do not have a plan, fake IDs, or anything."

Jinzo clenched his fists in his pockets. Mac was being stupid, but Jinzo not. He knew they were just pawns in Saya’s scheme. They were caught between Nash’s power struggle and the Dust Dogs’ business with him, just nobodies doing all the dirty work.

"We do not need a plan," Jinzo spat, rubbing his nose. His eyes looked like he had not slept in weeks. "We just need to upload the thing. Nash closes the deal in two days. In two days, Victoria get rid of us. In two days, we are back on the streets with nothing. We are fucked anyway, Mac. So who cares about Victoria?" Jinzo laughed, but it was not a happy sound. "Either way, we are in deep shit... so I won’t let them have it. We will take down Nash’s crew, so nobody wins."

Mac let out a gulping sound when they reached the subway stairs. The old stairs creaked under their feet. Mac stopped on the step, staring at Jinzo with scared eyes.

"Then... are we skipping practice?" Mac asked, his voice shaking. "We should not show up at the hangar if we are going to do this right?"

Jinzo stopped with him, standing on the grated metal like it was the edge of the world. He looked at the wall for a second.

"Nah," Jinzo said finally. He pointed his chin toward the platform and shrugged. "We are not running away like cowards. We are doing it there, right where they can see us. When the shit starts, they will not know what hit them."

They pushed through the turnstiles, the sound of a train coming through the tunnel screaming in their ears.

At Hangar 47, the usual tough routine had completely fallen apart. The staff was busy everywhere. On the floor, people were unpacking brand-new sports equipment, cleaning the training areas, and moving boxes around. The whole place felt alive with all the new money coming in.

Upstairs in the office, Dahlia was giving Victoria her report.

"The paperwork for the relocation is done," Dahlia said. "We are on track to move Blacklist into the facility in the upper corner of the Underground. The construction team is ahead of schedule on the courts and the security system. The money really sped things up."

Victoria leaned back in her chair, staring out at the hangar’s ceiling.

"Everything is going well for Blacklist," Dahlia continued with a smile on her face. She leaned closer. "Tomorrow is the day, Ma’am. Once we buy their contracts, nobody will be able to touch us. You will finally be completely free."

Victoria kept her face blank. She simply stared ahead, keeping her emotions locked down.

"Let’s get through tomorrow first," Victoria said.

Before Dahlia could respond, a timid knock came at the office door.

"Come in," Victoria said smoothly.

The door crept open, and a low-level staff member stepped inside. He nervously held a clipboard, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Um, Ma’am?" the guy stuttered, keeping his eyes down. "You... you asked to see me?"

Victoria did not answer right away. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and just stared at him. The silence stretched for seconds, heavy enough to make the guy break into a sweat.

Finally, a slow smile spread across Victoria’s face.

"Indeed," Victoria said, her tone casual. "You are ugly as hell."

Dahlia let out a cough to mask her laugh. The staff member blinked, completely lost, staring at them in confusion.

While the deal was happening behind Victoria’s office door, the rhythm of balls bouncing on the hardwood echoed from the main floor of Hangar 47. Down on the courts, the atmosphere was rather tense, far removed from the success Dahlia was celebrating upstairs.

Watching the Colossus, especially Seth, absolutely demolish Baby Boom in their last match had completely shattered Nash’s vision of the game. Breakball was a sport built on bizarre rules and wild, dirty strategies, like the seduction strategy. Yet, the Colossus were one of the rare teams Nash had seen dominate without using a single dirty trick.

They played with a raw, unstoppable power that relied entirely on the fundamentals of the sport that gave birth to Breakball in the first place: basketball, as it was called in the old days.

During his shrimp days, Nash had been a secret nerd for basketball in its purest form. He studied its history, its geometry, and its classic tactics. It was the reason he often saw the game differently from other players in the Underground, and exactly why he knew precisely which style suited each player’s profile.

He knew he could never win this war alone, and seeing the Colossus had made him realize that his current team was lightyears away from that level. If they were going to survive the upcoming battle for the crown, he had to rebuild the girls around the ancient discipline of true basketball.

So, with that awful feeling twisting in his gut, Nash turned the morning practice into hell. He pushed Jaz, Alicia, and Nia until they couldn’t breathe. Heavy medicine balls slammed against the walls, like someone punching metal. Sneakers squeaked as the girls ran suicide sprints until their legs felt like wet sandbags.

They were already gasping for air, but Nash’s voice boomed across the facility, asking them to move faster because a real challenger wouldn’t give them time to breathe.

Without letting them rest for even a second, he immediately dragged them into the paint to channel that exhaustion into tactical precision. Nash used his own massive frame to push Jaz to her absolute limits, slamming into her under the rim to simulate the brutal physicality she would face as a Power Forward. He shoved her back, barking at her to stop thinking about the gender difference and to tear down every rebound like she was breaking through a brick wall.

As soon as Jaz reached her breaking point, Nash shifted his aggressive focus to the perimeter, chasing Alicia around a chaotic maze of screens. He threw his long arms directly into the her face to contest every single catch-and-shoot drill, forcing her to speed up her release while shouting that a split-second delay against Seth meant her shot would be swatted into the third row.

Finally, he turned his relentless pressure on Nia on the wing, testing her instincts as a Small Forward. He forced her into rapid-fire drives, making her read his defensive stance in the blink of an eye so she could either pull up for a lethal mid-range jumper or explode straight toward the rim with everything she had, acting as the perfect bridge for his offense.

By the time Nash finally ended the session, the results of his fury were written in the complete collapse of his teammates. All three girls dropped onto the bench, their bodies trembling from pure exhaustion, their jerseys completely soaked through with sweat.

Nash stood over them, arms crossed. The tense look in his eyes had faded a little, replaced by something softer, something like pride. He grabbed a clean towel and tossed it onto Nia’s lap, giving her a quick nod.

"Good job today," Nash said. "Most people would’ve given up way earlier... not like I have any record beside you anyway, but you guys stuck it out."

Nia wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, still breathing hard. She looked up at him.

"Honestly, Nash... that was awful. But also... kind of different? Like, the drills actually clicked today. Feel like it will be interesting in a month or two."

Alicia and Jaz, still slumped against the bench, nodded in agreement. Nash couldn’t help the slow grin that spread across his face. He wasn’t ready to tell them yet, not about the Baby-Boom girls joining the team soon.

"Well, just wait. Things are gonna get way more interesting soon. And the actual matches? Those are gonna be something special. Can’t wait to see what happens when everything comes together."

Jaz dragged her jersey sleeve across her face, smearing sweat everywhere, but she still managed a tired smile.

"Man, I like seeing you like this. Happy, I mean. It’s weird, but nice. Something good happened?"

Nash chuckled, glancing around the court, the old hangar they used for practice, soon to be replaced by a better facility.

"Can’t blame me," he said. "Stuff’s just going well right now. Feels like it’s all falling into place."

The girls exchanged looks, eyebrows raised. And just like that, despite being completely wrecked, their tiredness melted into curiosity. They leaned forward, elbows on their knees, grinning.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Alicia said, nudging Nia’s shoulder. "What’s ’going well’? You hiding something?"

"Yeah, come on, spill!" Jaz laughed, pointing at him. "What ’pieces’ are you talking about?"

Nash just smirked, shaking his head as he took a few steps back toward the court.

"Nice try. Figure it out yourselves." Then he tapped his wrist, like checking a watch, and his playful tone switched back to serious coach mode. "You got two hours to drink water and recover. Because we’re doing this all over again this afternoon. Don’t be late."

All three girls groaned at the same time, slumping dramatically against each other like the world had ended. Nash just laughed, already walking away.

While everyone else was resting on the courts, Jinzo and Mac sneaked off like shadows into one of the back hallways of Hangar 47. Nobody saw them go, they were that good at moving silently. The door to the tech room was right where they remembered, and they opened it fastly, shutting it right behind them.

It was suddenly really quiet in the room like someone had turned off the sound. The only light came from the blue and green lights on the servers in the corner. Victoria’s money bought all of it, and now they were gonna wreck her plans with it.

They froze for a second, just standing there, hearts pounding.

Mac’s hands were shaking bad when he pointed at the row of monitors. "Which one do we use?" he asked. "That one by the window? Or the big one in the corner? If we pick wrong, the security thing’s gonna notice us, right?"

Jinzo rolled his eyes and shouldered past him.

"Relax, jackass. Use the one in the middle," he muttered, jerking his chin at the screen already glowing with a login screen. "Sit down and start typing."

Mac didn’t move. He planted his feet wide, arms crossed, glaring at Jinzo like he wanted to punch him.

"Hold up. Why do I gotta be the one typing? You write the stupid forum post. I’ll watch the door."

Jinzo’s face went flat.

"No way," he snapped, keeping his voice low. "You’re too jumpy, Mac. If you stand by that door and see anything move, you’re gonna freak out and do something dumb. And if you screw up lookout duty, we’re both dead. So sit your ass down, type the damn thing, and let me watch the door."

Mac opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. Jinzo was right. If either of them messed up, Nash and Victoria would make sure they disappeared forever. No second chances.

He groaned, dragged the heavy office chair out with a loud scrape, and dropped into it. His hands were shaking so bad he could barely grip the mouse. The screen flared bright white as he pulled up the Underground forums, and the light made his face look even paler, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Jin," he whispered, fingers hovering over the keyboard like he was scared to touch it. "Keep your eyes on the hall, okay? Don’t look away. If someone comes down those stairs, we gotta bail."

Jinzo was already leaning against the doorframe, shoulder pressed to the wall like he was part of it.

"I’m watching. Just type."

Mac swallowed as he started hammering out the leak that would blow up Blacklist’s whole deal. Every detail, the money, the plan, even the messed-up way they rooted for the Colossus to tear them apart. He dumped it all into the text box, his breath coming fast and shallow.

"Jin?" His voice cracked. "You still there? Tell me nobody’s coming."

"Nobody’s coming, Mac. Keep typing."

But behind Mac’s back, Jinzo’s calm face twisted into something else. Silent as a ghost, he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He dimmed the screen all the way down, lifted it up, and aimed the camera right at Mac’s back.

A tap. The little red recording light blinked on, invisible in the dark.

Jinzo zoomed in slow, capturing every terrified twitch of Mac’s shoulders, every shaky finger-stroke as he typed out their betrayal.