Same Afternoon (At the Basketball ground )
"Ainz, suit up," Arsh called, stretching his arms lazily as if this were nothing more than a casual afternoon game.
Ainz adjusted his Armors, tightened his gloves, and stepped into position with determination blazing in his eyes. "Hey, Ainz, " "Let's add a new rule. You can't score using the opponent's basket anymore. You have to score only through your own."Arsh said.
Ainz scoffed, his pride wounded and his confidence rising. "Seriously?" he said, squinting at Arsh. "You think I'm that easy to beat? You're standing ten meters away like this is a joke. You didn't even bother taking off your watch, and now you're adding rules?"
Arsh smiled, calm and unreadable. "Let's just play. Show me what you've got."
OSAI's mechanical voice echoed, "Match commencing in 3... 2... 1... Start."
The whistle blew.
Ainz launched forward like a bullet, his leg jets activating with a hiss of pressure. He muttered under his breath, Five minutes? No. I'll do it in five seconds. I'll prove I'm not weak.
In a flash, he reached the basket, soared into the air with perfect form, extended his hand—
But the ball vanished.
"What?" Ainz gasped, spinning midair.
Arsh was already across the court, the ball swishing effortlessly through the net.
"Goal" . Score: 1–0," OSAI announced.
Ainz landed with a grunt, his expression stunned. "How…? I didn't even see you move! Did you teleport?!"
"Shut up and don't make any excuses now," Arsh said with a smirk, strolling back into position like nothing had happened.
The whistle blew again.
Ainz grabbed the ball and darted forward, pushing his body to its absolute limit. He muttered: Arsh's speed's insane… at least 5x mine. But he's overconfident. He doesn't even move until I'm right at the rim. That's my opening.
He jumped—this time, throwing the ball with all his strength before reaching the basket.
But again, the ball disappeared.
"Goal. Score: 2–0," came OSAI's voice.
Ainz turned to see Arsh standing casually by his basket, spinning the ball on one finger like a street magician.
"You seriously came, took the ball, ran back, and scored before I even landed?" Ainz asked, his voice cracking in disbelief.
"You're the one who thinks my speed isn't enough. Prove me wrong," Arsh replied with a teasing smirk.
Another whistle.
Ainz caught the ball and muttered, Enough! Speed isn't everything. He raised his arm. Drones zipped into formation, forming a solid net of surveillance and obstruction around Arsh.
"If you have speed, then I'll just make sure you can't move."
Ainz leapt, aimed, and yelled, "I win!"
The ball vanished again.
He turned, and there was Arsh again—calmly spinning the ball beside the basket. Goal. Score: 3–0.
Ainz stared, slack-jawed. "What the hell? How did you even—?"
"You used my own drones against me," Arsh said, chuckling. "But I know exactly how they work. Their frame-per-second vision couldn't register my movement. According to their data, I never left that spot. And you only told them to stop me, But they can't stop something what they can't even see."
Ainz clenched his fists. Dammit… I keep underestimating him.
The game restarted.
This time, Ainz didn't even have a plan. He just ran. I can't lose. I won't lose. His heart pounded louder than the drone engines. He jumped—but before his fingers touched the ball, it was gone.
"Goal. Score: 4–0," OSAI announced.
Ainz fell to his knees, panting. Time ticked down—only 1.5 minutes left.
Arsh suddenly pulled out his phone. "Let's take a short break. That was an urgent call."
Ainz sat down, drained. Sweat soaked through his shirt. He grabbed his water bottle and took a long sip before looking at OSAI.
"…Hey. Be honest with me. Am I really that weak?"
"No," OSAI replied calmly. "Arsh is just too strong."
Ainz lowered his head. "…Is there even a way I can score? Even once?"
"Well," OSAI said, its voice taking on a softer tone, "he's not even using his full potential right now. He's using this match to teach you something."
"What?"
"He's teaching you control. Even in battle—or in a game—you must not lose focus. I mean see yourself he's still wearing his heavy Osmium watch. His shoes are also to hold him back. He's holding back."
Ainz looked up, shocked. "He's not even serious?"
"No. But if you want to 'win'—at least in his eyes—I have a plan."
"…Wait, you're serious? Even if I don't score, I can win?"
"Correct. If you can surprise him—just once—and force him to lose control even slightly, that will be enough. He'll acknowledge it."
Ainz leaned in. "Okay… what's the plan?"
OSAI hovered close and whispered its strategy.
A moment later, Arsh returned, pocketing his phone. "Sorry. That was urgent. Let's wrap this up quickly—I've got to go to the café after this."
"Alright," Ainz said with renewed fire in his voice. "Let's finish it."
They stood at opposite ends of the court.
The whistle blew.
This time, Ainz didn't sprint immediately. He stood still, surrounded by a swarm of drones. The drones didn't just block Arsh—they adapted in real-time, their vision enhanced by OSAI's upgrades.
Then, Ainz sprinted forward.
Instead of running directly, he stepped onto a hovering drone—bouncing off it like a springboard—then another, then leapt horizontally toward the basket, twisting midair and catching the ball.
Arsh tried to move.
But the upgraded drones tracked him with higher precision. His usual tricks wouldn't work.
Ainz launched toward the basket like a missile. This is it, I win! he thought, feeling the wind rush past him.
But in the blink of an eye—Arsh moved.
With one push, Arsh used a drone as a stepping point, launching himself with explosive speed toward Ainz. Just before Ainz could release the ball, Arsh plucked it midair with barely any effort, and landed.
Ainz and all the drones attempted to block him.
But Arsh, smiling wide, flipped over them, tossed the ball into the air, caught it again while suspended upside down, and slammed it into the basket.
"Goal. Score: 5–0. Time's up."
Ainz dropped to the ground, panting, covered in sweat. He clenched his fists. The defeat was heavy.
Arsh landed softly and walked over, sitting next to him.
"That was impressive," Arsh said, his tone sincere. "You really surprised me that time. If you had just ordered the drones to block and steal the ball, I might've actually lost."
"…But I didn't," Ainz muttered, disappointed.
"You still did better than anyone else has in years. I haven't had that much fun in a game since… forever." Arsh stretched. "If I'm being honest, I had to push myself more in this match than during most Demon Beast fights."
Ainz looked up and managed a tired smile. "Thanks. but I know I lost, but next time, I'll win. I swear."
"I believe you," Arsh said with a nod. "And I'll be waiting for that rematch."
He stood up. "By the way, I need your help. I've been put in charge of the upcoming Summer Festival."
Ainz blinked. "Wait, what?! You? Did the president find out who you really are?"
"Nope. He just had to leave for training—something important for his future. So he handed me the reins."
Ainz sighed. "Do you even know how to organize a festival?"
"Not really. That's why I'm asking for help—from you and Luna."
"Alright. I've got club responsibilities too, but I'll help however I can," Ainz said.
"What's your club planning?"
"Well, as you know summer festival is a four-day event. Day one we have to participate in a parade, day two is games, every eyes are on us because we are pros, day three we showcase our work with a big presentation… and on the fourth day, we're doing 'Challenge Matches'."
"Challenge matches?"
"Yeah. We set up a basketball booth. Anyone from the college or visitors can challenge us—or their own team—against ours. If they score even one point, they win a big prize. We also sell tickets to spectators."
"Clever," Arsh said. "But won't that mostly attract guys?"
"Last year it did. But we still made a lot from ticket sales. Well… except when Alex showed up. He beat our team, scored, and ruined our shot at the 'Best Club' award."
Arsh smirked. "Honestly, that sounds like your most entertaining match."
"…Yeah. You're right. Every other game, the stands were half empty. But during that match, we sold out."
"Then don't treat that loss like a failure," Arsh said. "It gave your audience what they came for. That's a win in itself."
Ainz nodded slowly, thinking. "Yeah… we'll make this year even better."
Arsh started walking away. "Alright. Clean up the court. I've got to head to the café."
Ainz groaned. "But I'm hungry! And tired. I didn't even eat lunch!"
Arsh tossed him a lunchbox over his shoulder.
"Eat, clean, and rest. You're on backup duty with Noar later."
He vanished into the distance, leaving Ainz smiling despite the exhaustion.
"…One day, I'll beat you for real," Ainz whispered, clutching the lunchbox.