Basketball Soul System: I Got Westbrook's MVP Powers in Another World! Chapter 62

Team Vess inbounded. No timeout. This wasn’t regulation—it was the Rising Stars Challenge, and the heat of the moment was electric.

Nobody was going to kill the tempo just to draw up a play. The crowd would’ve booed them back into the locker room.

Yates dribbled past halfcourt, cool as ice. He’d flashed early—a logo three and a slick layup for 5 points—but Yates wasn’t here to hunt buckets. He was a playmaker, happy to set the table. Tonight, the spotlight burned on Ryan and Frye, the MVP a two-man race. Yates knew it.

He could feel it in the air—the tension, the weight of eyes, the moment swelling like a storm before the break.

He flicked the ball to Frye on the right wing and jogged to the corner, clearing the stage.

Ryan slid over to guard Yates, while Amin stepped up, chest-to-chest with Frye. Frye’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

Not Ryan? He smirked, ego flaring.

"Nah, I want you," he barked, waving Yates for a screen.

The crowd sensed blood, their "MVP!" chants surging.

At the broadcast booth, Richard Mason’s voice thundered: "Frye’s calling for Ryan! Vega’s golden boy wants the kill!"

David Wilson growled, "Ryan’s playing chess, but Frye’s hunting checkmate!"

Yates set the screen, his compact frame barely slowing Amin.

Frye exploited the moment, rolling hard off the pick, forcing Ryan to switch.

Frye charged the paint, a freight train, his sneakers pounding.

Ryan stayed glued, legs pumping, refusing to give ground. But Yates’ screen was weak—his small stature and shaky pick-and-roll game left gaps.

Amin, a defensive pitbull, fought through like a knife through butter, squeezing past in a flash.

His feet never stopped moving, every muscle wired, tracking Frye like a predator locking onto prey.

Suddenly, it was two-on-one: Ryan and Amin swarming Frye in the paint.Frye froze, eyes wide, not expecting Amin’s speed. Trapped, he tried to pivot, ball high, searching for an out.

Amin’s hand darted like a viper—smack!—cleanly poking the ball free. It bounced loose, and Ryan pounced, snatching it mid-stride. The arena gasped, Vega’s "MVP!" chants choking.

Ryan snagged the loose ball mid-bounce and was off like a shot. He was gone, a red blur streaking downcourt.

No one back. The lane was a runway.

He hit the paint, legs coiling, and launched. High. Higher.

His right arm cocked back, ball gripped like a warhead. With a primal roar, he slammed a one-handed tomahawk dunk, the rim shuddering like it’d been hit by a sledgehammer.

The ball ripped through the net.

The buzzer screamed. Game over.

Team Nealson takes it.

Rising Stars Challenge, decided.

The arena erupted, a seismic wave of chaos. Nealson’s fans roared, drowning Vega’s stunned silence.

The Zentron Celestial Arena was electric, still buzzing from Team Nealson’s heart-stopping 40-37 win over Team Vess in the Rising Stars Challenge.

The court, a sweat-soaked battlefield just moments ago, now pulsed with a different energy—joy, respect, and raw pride.

Up in the stands, Jamal was on his feet, veins popping, screaming, "Ryan, MVP!"

His voice cut through the roar, a beacon for Iron City’s faithful. Beside him, Eddie grinned ear to ear, his eyes gleaming like he’d hit the jackpot. Ryan Carter’s performance tonight—16 points, clutch plays, that game-sealing tomahawk dunk—was gold. His stock was skyrocketing, fame and fortune on the horizon.

On the court, the vibe was loose, almost brotherly. This wasn’t a Finals bloodbath; it was a showcase, and the rookies had delivered a masterpiece.

Players from both sides mingled, grinning, trading fist-bumps and hugs.

The crowd, still buzzing, soaked it in—a high-octane show from the ABA’s future stars.

At the broadcast booth, Richard Mason’s voice boomed: "What a game, folks! Ryan and Frye went to war, but it’s all love now!" David Wilson added, "This is why we love the Rising Stars—fire on the court, respect off it."

Frye stood at midcourt, staring at the scoreboard. His 15 points had nearly stolen the night, but Nealson’s last-second surge burned. He shook his head, a mix of frustration and respect, then jogged over to Ryan, who was catching his breath.

Frye’s eyes locked on his rival’s. "Next time, Tigers versus Roarers, we settle this," he said, voice low but fierce, a promise of battles to come.

Ryan met his gaze, a grin tugging his lips. "Bet," he said, pulling Frye into a quick embrace, respect sealed in sweat.

The crowd roared, sensing a rivalry born.With 16 points, 3 assists, and the game-clinching dunk, Ryan was the undisputed MVP of the 2025 Rising Stars Challenge.

Team Nealson, champions of the night, swarmed the court as officials rolled out the championship trophy—a sleek, silver spire gleaming under the lights.

The squad went wild, McCale hoisting the trophy first, Amin clowning for photos, Zeke flashing a rare smile. Cameras popped, capturing Nealson’s triumph, their red jerseys a sea of joy.

Then came the moment everyone waited for. ABA Commissioner Carla Reyes strode to midcourt, a spherical MVP trophy in her hands, its polished surface catching the arena’s glow.

The crowd hushed, then erupted as she spoke: "For his leadership, clutch plays, and that monster dunk, the 2025 Rising Stars MVP is... Ryan Carter!"

The arena exploded, "Ryan! Ryan!" chants drowning out lingering Vega boos.

Jamal lost it, waving his jersey like a battle flag, while Eddie clapped, beaming.

Ryan stepped forward, chest still heaving, eyes wet with fire. He took the trophy, its weight grounding him, and thrust it skyward, flashbulbs bursting like supernovas.

In his mind, a vow roared:

This is my first MVP. Next, I’m taking the ABA MVP, the Finals MVP.

The crowd didn’t hear his vow, but they felt it—in the way he raised that trophy, in the fire behind his eyes. Their cheers shook the rafters, Iron City’s rookie owning Vega’s stage.

Mason screamed, "Ryan’s crowned! Iron City’s got a new king!"

Wilson growled, "Sixteen points, three dimes, and a star is born!"

As Team Nealson posed for one last photo, Ryan stood center, MVP trophy gleaming. Frye, across the court, gave a nod—respect, but a promise of revenge.

A rivalry was born, but tonight, Ryan Carter was the Rising Stars’ undisputed champion.

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