Extra Basket

Chapter 318 305: Vorpal vs Wildcats (17) Phase 2

Hey everyone… your author here. I'm back, but not fully still fighting through being sick. It's been rough, honestly, but what keeps me going is all of you who read my stories, cheer me on, and believe in me even when I'm down.

If you feel like supporting me in a small way, even the tiniest donation helps more than you know. It's just a little thing to help me keep going, keep creating, and get through these tough days.

💛 LandBank Account: 1746358772

💛 GCash: 09657966902

Even just a kind thought or sharing my work helps more than money ever could. Thank you for sticking with me, I wouldn't be here without you.

ENJOY READING….

…

…

Apex True Sync — Phase 2

VORPAL 57 – WILDCATS 54

Miho stepped forward.

One quiet step.

But the hardwood seemed to recoil beneath his foot, as if the court itself recognized authority and shifted to accommodate it. The overhead lights hummed faintly, their glow sharpening, lines on the floor suddenly too clear—sidelines, arcs, angles converging into a single geometric truth.

The dribble slowed.

Not stopped.

Slowed.

A single, deliberate tap.

Tap.

The sound echoed not loud, but precise, metronomic, like the first tick of a device coming online.

Tap.

Armi's shoulders rolled back, spine straightening, weight redistributing to the balls of his feet. His breathing synchronized unconsciously with the bounce.

Tap.

Jun Seo sank into a predatory crouch, heels barely kissing the floor, hips low, eyes tracking not the ball but the spaces between defenders.

Tap.

Kenji's fingers settled around the seams of the ball the instant it returned to Miho's hand, touch feather-light, grip exact. His wrists flexed, already aligned for a pass that had not yet been chosen.

Tap.

Davis anchored himself in the paint. His massive frame coiled, knees bent, arms loose but heavy, like wrecking balls held back by chains. Sweat rolled down his temple, but his pulse was steady. Waiting.

And then

Silence.

Not absence of sound.

Compression of it.

The gym didn't go quiet, it held its breath.

Sneakers froze mid-squeak.

The scoreboard buzz faded into the background.

Even the crowd thousands strong fell into an instinctive hush, as though some deep animal part of them recognized a storm cresting just overhead.

Ethan felt it first.

A chill slid down his spine, sharp and electric, wrong in a way his body remembered from another life. Not danger. Not fear.

Inevitability.

"Lucas…" he whispered, voice barely breaking the air. "This isn't just True Sync."

Lucas's yellow eyes narrowed, pupils contracting to razor points. His grip tightened unconsciously, fingers curling like claws.

He didn't need Ethan to finish.

He sensed it too.

The rhythm.

The pressure.

The way Wildcats weren't reacting—they were aligning.

Miho wasn't just using True Sync.

He was evolving it.

Miho's Awakening

Miho raised his head slowly.

The movement was unhurried, reverent like a king acknowledging the battlefield before issuing the final command.

His eyes glowed.

Not literally.

But with terrifying clarity.

Every reflection sharpened inside them: defenders' stances, muscle tension, hesitation vectors, breathing patterns. Each variable layered neatly into place.

His voice was soft almost tender.

But beneath it, something hummed.

A blade sliding from its sheath.

"Wildcats—"

He paused.

Let the silence stretch.

"Apex Response Sequence…"

A breath.

"…engage."

The words were light.

Almost gentle.

But the effect

Immediate.

Armi moved.

Not fast.

Not explosive.

He glided, footwork smooth as if the floor itself carried him along a prewritten path. His cut wasn't toward space, it created space, bending defenders away like gravity.

Jun Seo didn't cut.

He materialized.

One heartbeat he was shadowing Louie.

The next, he existed perfectly in the seam between Louie and Evan, arms already angled to deny two lanes at once.

Kenji passed.

Not with power.

Not with speed.

But with obscene precision.

The ball didn't travel.

It arrived.

Slicing through the lane, threading between knees and forearms, snapping into Davis's hands as if magnetized by fate itself.

Ethan's breath caught.

The timing was wrong.

The angle was impossible.

The read

"What the hell…" Evan muttered under his breath. "That wasn't a read."

His eyes widened.

"…That was predetermined."

Lucas clenched his teeth, muscles along his jaw tightening until they trembled.

"No," he said, low and sharp. "He's not reading us."

His gaze locked onto Miho.

"He's reading the future of our rhythm."

Miho stepped into the arc.

Shadows flickered across his face as bodies moved, light refracting through motion.

His eyes weren't calm anymore.

They were lit.

Alive.

Predatory.

Awake.

"This," Miho murmured, almost reverently, "is the real True Sync."

The Attack

Davis surged forward.

The floor boomed beneath his first step.

Brandon braced instinctively, planting his feet, shoulders squared, arms out. His teeth clenched as impact slammed into him muscle against muscle, force against will.

"Hold him, Brandon!" Louie shouted, already rotating.

But Miho was already moving.

Not rushing.

Floating.

Guiding.

Controlling.

He didn't look at Davis.

Didn't need to.

His gaze tracked Vorpal.

Evan shifting left.

Lucas preparing to intercept.

Ethan anchoring the collapse.

Micro-adjustments.

Predictable.

A small smile ghosted across Miho's lips.

"Predictable."

Two fingers flicked.

That was all.

Armi withdrew half a step, dragging a defender with him.

Jun Seo rotated inward, sealing the help lane.

Kenji slid laterally, positioning himself not to receive but to threaten.

Davis spun.

A pivot so tight

so violent

so perfectly timed

that Brandon lost half a step.

Not much.

But enough.

Enough to feel gravity shift.

Enough to feel control slip.

Davis rose.

The rim trembled in anticipation.

Miho whispered

"Finish it."

BOOM.

The dunk shattered the air.

The backboard rattled violently. The rim screamed in protest. Davis's hands yanked down with feral authority, and for a split second the entire structure seemed like it might tear free.

VORPAL 57 – WILDCATS 56

The gym detonated.

Sound crashed back in—a tidal wave of screams, stomping feet, benches erupting.

The Wildcats' bench exploded.

And Miho…

Miho simply lowered his hand again.

Expression unreadable.

Not celebrating.

Not smiling.

Just calculating.

Waiting.

Awake.

Louie exhaled sharply, laughter edging into disbelief.

"Okay…yeah...that was illegal." He shook his head. "No way that was normal basketball."

Brandon wiped his mouth, chest heaving, lungs burning.

"He predicted every counter we had…"

Evan's fingers twitched violently, muscles buzzing with restrained energy.

"No," he said, voice tight. "He predicted every counter we would think of."

Lucas's eyes sharpened, yellow irises glowing like wildfire catching oxygen.

"So he's ahead of us."

Ethan's jaw clenched.

The noise faded again.

Patterns reassembled.

"Then we just have to get ahead of him."

Louie grinned, pressure sharpening his expression.

"Bet." He cracked his neck. "I owe Miho a magic trick anyway."

Brandon smirked.

"Let's see you juggle a fully awakened True Sync."

Evan stepped forward, voice cold, commanding.

"Reset. Recalibrate. We're not losing flow again."

Lucas inhaled slowly.

Ethan stepped beside him, grounding the rhythm, syncing breath with bounce.

Vorpal tightened.

The gym vibrated.

And Miho…

Miho lowered into his stance.

Eyes glowing.

Expression serene.

His voice barely cleared the space between them.

"Let's see your limit."

Seven seconds.

The world narrowed.

Ethan stood at the top of the key, the ball warm against his palms, pebbled leather biting gently into skin worn raw by repetition and regret.

The weight of an entire timeline pressed down on his spine.

Every missed chance.

Every loss he remembered from another life.

Every future he refused to accept.

Miho closed the distance.

One step.

Two.

Perfect angle.

Perfect timing.

Apex True Sync; Phase 2.

No wasted motion.

No hesitation.

Ethan's vision flickered.

[BASKETBALL SYSTEM: ACTIVE]

Threat Detected: Apex True Sync (Phase 2)

Analysis: Predictive team synchronization. Movement occurs before decision.

Ethan exhaled.

His heartbeat steadied.

"…So you're running ahead of time."

The HUD flared.

Cards Activated:

Temporal Read (Bronze) — Briefly see opponent's next optimal action

Perfect Plant (Bronze) — Instant balance and foot control

Deadeye Calm (Silver) — Eliminates mental lag

Clock: 5.2 seconds

Miho lunged.

Ethan smiled.

"Then I'll move before you."

The court slowed.

Not time.

Intent.

Miho's next move unfolded in Ethan's mind

Left hand high.

Right foot cutting the angle.

Jun Seo rotating to contest, half a beat late.

Ethan stepped inside the prediction.

Perfect Plant activated.

His foot hit the floor

solid.

Unshakable.

Miho's hand brushed air.

Three seconds.

Ethan rose.

Not a fade.

Not a rush.

A clean, vertical pull-up.

Deadeye Calm washed everything away.

No crowd.

No bench.

No past life.

Just the rim.

Temporal Read flickered one last time.

Jun Seo's contest

Half a heartbeat late.

Enough.

Release.

The ball spun.

High.

Pure.

The buzzer screamed.

BEEEEEP—

Silence.

The ball kissed the front rim.

Rolled.

Hung.

Then

Dropped.

VORPAL 59 – WILDCATS 58

The gym erupted.

Louie screamed.

"HE BEAT THE SYSTEM—!"

Josh collapsed backward, laughing hysterically.

"NO WAY!"

Coonie stared, breathless.

"…He counter-coded Apex."

Miho stood frozen.

Eyes wide.

Not in anger.

Not in disbelief.

But awe.

"…You didn't react," Miho whispered.

Ethan met his gaze.

"I didn't have to."

The scoreboard burned the truth into the air.

And somewhere deep within the system

A new path unlocked.

To be continued.