Simulation Game: Heat Vs Pistons Part II

*Sound Effects*

**Language**

'Thoughts'

"Dialogue"

(Point of View)

| Setting |

[System]

(1st Person - Javi)

Taking a brief break in the locker room, I pondered the surreal experience of simulating real games. Despite the somewhat human interactions, I knew it was all just a simulation.

My thoughts raced through the shots I had passed up, realizing the mistake as my team struggled to convert. Even with my 10% shooting bonus from 'On The Laces' when passing, they couldn't seem to capitalize.

The lack of synergy or their dip in performance puzzled me. As the game neared, I joined the team on the court for warm-ups, resigned to the possibility of having to bare the burden once again for the 2nd half.

"Looks like it's up to me," I mused with a sigh, grabbing a ball to start warming up.

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(3rd Person)

Starting the second half, Javi remained determined as he received the ball for the opening possession. With a deadly calm, he slowly dribbled up the court, undeterred by the roaring atmosphere.

Seemingly less affected by the pressure, Javi felt an unusual sensation, as if his senses were numbed. Ignoring this, he crossed half court, locking eyes with Haslem, who had switched to defend him for the quarter, hoping to contain Javi's scoring threat.

Approaching with a couple of crossovers to gauge Haslem's reaction, Javi noticed the defender staying stationary, not biting on any fakes. Using this to his advantage, Javi chose to drive right, forcing Haslem to adjust.

Strangely, Javi felt a shift as time seemed to slow down, looking at Haslem, he noticed Haslem had just stepped.

Javi, knowing that Haslem wouldn't be able to stop his momentum, he pulled back and rose up for a three-pointer, feeling an inexplicable certainty that the shot would go in, despite 'Oracle's Gaze' not having activated yet.

True to his feeling, the ball swished through the net.

'What was that?' Javi thought as he got back on defense.

Confused by the strange feeling, Javi refocused on defense, but the sensation persisted as he got the ball back off a missed three pointer from Wade. Taking the ball, Javi drove to the basket on the next possession. With Shaq looming, Javi once again felt the same strange phenomenon occur as he executed an incredible layup, barely eluding the block while absorbing the foul.

'Holy shit' He thought seeing the amazing basket he just made, still confused about what was happening.

Despite his confusion, Javi continued to excel, scoring basket after basket with uncanny accuracy. Ignoring his curiosity, he embraced the sensation as he saw a surge in his abilities, transcending his usual performance.

The game pressed on, and despite the Heat responding with another basket, Javi felt unstoppable. He entered a peculiar state of mind where missing seemed inconceivable.

Despite enduring bumps and slaps, he maneuvered to his preferred spots on the court, converting basket after basket with unwavering accuracy. He seamlessly swishing the next 5 baskets for his team without a single miss in between.

Javi disregarded his curiosity and embraced the inexplicable phenomenon, feeling as though he had transcended his usual abilities. He attempted moves he wouldn't typically make in real games, yet they effortlessly found their mark. It wasn't until he sat on the bench at the end of the third quarter, with time to reflect, that he realized the magnitude of his performance.

Surveying the stats, he saw that he had scored 20 points in the quarter alone. "What was that?" he murmured, as the surreal sensation slowly faded.

Despite Javi's tremendous impact, the Heat remained within striking distance, trailing by just 9 points, as their entire team rallied against his scoring outburst. Going into the fourth quarter, Javi's tally stood at 38 points.

As the final quarter commenced, Javi rose to his feet, feeling more fatigued than usual after his exertions in the third quarter. Yet, he knew that once he stepped out, any hopes of getting his rewards would likely vanish. Though the surreal feeling had dissipated, he remained confident in his ability to make shots.

Despite the feeling before having gone away, he knew that he still could make some shots.

Minutes passed, and the intensity of the match persisted. Despite the Heat trailing slightly, they showed no signs of faltering, knowing that they still had a chance to win as long as time remained on the clock.

Javi grew increasingly frustrated as the lead hovered just shy of 10 points, slipping back to 8 each time he neared the threshold. With less than a minute left, the score stood at 84-76. Holding his breath, Javi watched anxiously as the Heat executed a play, finding relief in Wade's missed shot.

"This is it," he thought, poised for the final moments of the game.

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(1st Person - Javi)

I glanced at the score and noted that we were up by 8 with 20 seconds remaining on the clock.

Despite already having scored 46 points, I knew it wasn't enough yet.

'Just one more bucket,' I thought determinedly.

Taking possession of the ball, I advanced up the court, closely shadowed by Eddie Jones. I dribbled in place to wind down the clock, ensuring we would have the final shot of the game. Observing Jones's movements, I sensed his tense posture and decided to fake towards the right.

As expected, Jones bit on the fake, leaving him grasping at air as I executed a behind-the-back crossover. Accelerating towards the rim, I was quickly met by Udonis Haslem's defense. Opting for a jumper, I saw Haslem anticipate my shot, positioning himself for a potential block. In the periphery, I spotted Prince open on the left wing and swiftly delivered a pass to him before landing back on the ground.

Prince caught the ball wide open and rose for a jumper. My heart raced as the clock reached zero and the ball approached the net. However, my hopes were dashed as the ball grazed the inside of the basket before bouncing out as the buzzer sounded.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed in frustration, the echo of my words reverberating in the now-empty gym. "Why?" I groaned inwardly. Despite my nearly 50 points, we still couldn't secure the win.

"Shit team," I muttered angrily as I grabbed my bags and made my way towards my car, disappointment evident on my face.

"I should have just taken the last shot," I mentally chastised myself, replaying the final possession of the game in my mind. If only I had pulled back instead of driving, I could have gotten a shot off and completed the mission.

"Maybe I should have worn my Mythic shoes," I contemplated with a sigh. However, despite my doubts, I hadn't deemed them necessary, feeling like a cheat even in a simulation. This sentiment had been growing stronger within me lately as I struggled to justify using some of my items.

Despite having this system, I remained a true hooper at heart, and the feeling of possessing any unfair advantage began to bother me more and more.

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After arriving home, I prepared myself some food. Ever since acquiring the chef skill, I had been cooking at home more often, only dining out when the team went out after a game. It seemed like a waste not to utilize the skill I had acquired.

I hadn't showcased my cooking abilities to anyone yet, especially not to my family, who knew me as someone who rarely stepped foot in the kitchen unless it was to reheat something.

Nevertheless, upon first tasting the food I prepared after unlocking the skill, I had no regrets. With the ability to cook anything I desired, I could ensure I always ate healthily and that the food didn't taste horrible.

I whipped up some beef quesadillas with guacamole and savored them as I decompressed from the frustrating match. As I ate, I couldn't shake the game from my mind; something about it bothered me immensely.

I turned to the internet and found a video of the game. Watching closely, I focused on Chauncey Billups, who I had replaced, in order to analyze his performance. Despite reviewing the highlights, nothing stood out. I then found another video featuring the full game and once again observed Billups closely.

Still, nothing seemed extraordinary. While he undoubtedly possessed a high basketball IQ, I felt that wasn't the sole reason for the game's outcome. As I watched him make passes similar to mine, I noticed a subtle difference: he often delayed his pass by a second, seemingly waiting for his teammates to position themselves better.

"Wait a minute," I thought, closely analyzing each pass. With some teammates, he passed immediately, while with others, particularly with Prince, he delayed his pass slightly, allowing Prince an extra moment to set himself before shooting.

This seemingly minor adjustment made a significant impact, as Prince's shooting efficiency improved notably with this change.

"Chemistry is crucial, no matter what," I mused with a sigh.

Having played together for many years, Billups had picked up on these nuances—knowing where his teammates shot best, where they preferred to receive the ball, some liking it slightly to their left or right for better rhythm.

"I need to watch more film," I realized, reflecting on my own play. While I had always passed the ball accurately thanks to my passive skill, I hadn't considered the intricacies of where I was placing the ball in relation to my teammates' shooting preferences.

Typically, I had thrown it straight on, but it appeared that I needed to delve deeper into understanding my teammates' tendencies to make their shots as comfortable as possible.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know your thoughts so far on the story. Playoffs will begin next chapter!

Side Note: Any guess on what Javi was feeling earlier?