Basketball Soul System: I Got Westbrook's MVP Powers in Another World! Chapter 25 :“FXXK DARIUS!” — Darius: “Their Way of Saying Th

Wednesday. 7 PM. Blackrock Mining Arena.

The seats weren’t full, but the energy in the arena was undeniable.

The Roarers erged from the tunnel.

As the cara panned to Ryan, his face lit up the four-sided jumbotron hanging over center court. A wave of boos rolled through the crowd.

Couldn’t be helped. The dia had run wild earlier in the week with his quote—sothing about "Guarantees 40 Against Boulders"

Ryan shrugged it off. What caught him off guard was the reaction when the caras found Darius.

The boos doubled. Then tripled. Then the entire crowd erupted into a thunderous, synchronized chant:

"FXXK DARIUS! FXXK DARIUS!"

Ryan shot his teammate a look. "What the hell?"

Darius grinned. "Noze fans are passionate. This is their way of saying they love ."

Ryan stared. "You serious?"

Kamara laughed. "Don’t let him bullshit you. This goes back three years..."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? There’s lore?"

"Oh yeah." Kamara leaned in. "Three years ago, final ga of the regular season. The Boulders just needed one win to make their first playoff run in eight years."

He looked at Ryan.

"And?" Ryan prompted.

"And this asshole—" Kamara slapped Darius’s shoulder, "—back when he was still with the MixtFoxes—decides to go full try-hard mode. The ga ant nothing for them; their fourth seed in the West was locked. But he went off anyway."

Ryan didn’t even need to ask. Kamara continued:

"0.8 seconds left. Darius hits a logo-range three—ga winner. Ice cold. Boulders eliminated. Ever since, every ti he plays here, the crowd greets him with the sa warm chant."

Ryan was surprised—Kamara had a freakish mory for drama and old grudges. Then he squinted. This story... sounded weirdly familiar.

He turned to Darius. "Tell you did a full 90-degree bow to the crowd after that shot."

Darius froze. Then his eyes lit up like he’d just discovered fire. "That sounds badass. I’ll do that next ti I hit a ga-winner."

Kamara grinned. "Try it tonight and see how many beer cups your head catches."

7:30. The buzzer sounded.

The Roarers sent out their usual starting five: Darius, Malik, Lin, Kamara, and Gibson.

Both teams leaned heavily on the 1-5 pick-and-roll to generate offense. But tonight, Malik ca out blazing—aggressive, locked in, and more importantly, giving the Boulders’ cornerstone big man Axton real problems on both ends.

Three minutes in, the Roarers led 12–5. Malik had already racked up 4 points and 3 boards, edging out Axton’s 2 and 2.

A minute later, Malik converted an and-one. 15–5. The Boulders called ti. The clock froze at 7:13.

Coach Crawford made no imdiate adjustnts—just told his starters to hydrate and breathe.

But when play resud, sothing unexpected happened: Axton was subbed out. A backup center took his place.

The Roarers’ bench took notice.

The coaching staff exchanged glances.

"What’s this? Four minutes in and he’s out? He was holding his own." one assistant muttered.

"Injury? Fatigue?" another guessed.

Crawford’s eyes locked on the Boulders’ bench. "They’re staggering Axton’s and Malik’s minutes to minimize their overlap."

"Staggering?" they echoed.

Crawford smirks. "Axton’s playing fine, but Malik’s on another level tonight. They’re minimizing overlap—trying to maximize Axton’s impact when Malik sits."

BEEP!

A whistle cuts through. Malik drives, the backup center steps in and takes the foul rather than give up the bucket.

"Co on," an assistant scoffed. "If Axton can’t handle Malik tonight, how’s a bench guy supposed to?"

Crawford didn’t flinch. "Exactly. They know they can’t stop Malik either way. So they’re throwing the sub at him just to soak up the damage."

They kept their eyes glued to the ga.

Four more minutes ticked by, and the Roarers were cruising at 30-15. Malik had already dropped 15 points, and anwhile, the Boulders’ backup center had already picked up three fouls trying to contain him. Yet the Boulders hadn’t called a tiout.

Finally, Crawford made a move during a dead ball with 3:02 left—a routine rotation.

Usually around this ti, Stanley and Sloan, the two swingn, would sub in for the oldest starters—Malik and Gibson—with Sloan temporarily filling in at center. Then, early in the second quarter, Darius, Lin, and Kamara would get their turn to rest.

But tonight, with Ryan in the rotation, Crawford went deeper. He pulled Darius, Gibson, and Kamara all at once.

An assistant coach asked, "Why isn’t Malik getting a breather?"

Crawford shrugged, "He’s on fire tonight. With Axton still on the bench, let Malik keep pushing to widen the gap."

Just before checking in, Ryan pulled up his system interface.

[WESTBROOK SYNC RATE: 73.2%]

"System," he muttered under his breath,

"First ti running the second-unit bridge... Where’s my reward unlock or sothing?"

The response was instant:

[SORRY. NO REWARDS. THIS ISN’T A MILESTONE WORTH CELEBRATING.]