'Damn, I got dunked on,' Jamar thought to himself. 'And worst of all, he stepped over me.'
**Jamar, you are embarrassing us**, said the system.
'What can I do? He's just that good,' Jamar responded in his thoughts.
**The move he pulled up is from video 59, match 3, and you watched that film five times**, the system reminded him.
'Yeah, if it's so easy, why don't you come defend him yourself?' Jamar thought angrily, feeling frustration building up inside him.
**Silly human**, the system replied. **Now I see why you are losing. You are feeling inferior and frightened because he has a reputation for making highlights everywhere he goes. While you consider yourself trash. If he was really that good, he would have made the league. Look at your sister. She's shedding tears because of your disappointing performance. Now, if you don't get yourself back in the game and show her you ain't no punk, she's going to be traumatized.**
Jamar stood up and dusted himself off. He took off his shirt, revealing a patchwork of tattoos and muscles on his light African skin.
"Ooooh, seems like Jamar is about to get serious," mocked MC Kraken. "The score is 6:7."
Anne looked at Jamar, wide-eyed. "He has tattoos like Uncle Raymond. Wait till I tell Mum that Jamar is in a gang," she thought.
Jamar walked back to the free throw line with the ball. As he passed the ball to Nas for a restart, he said, "Nothing much, just going to play like we're in a death match."
Nas smiled, accepting the ball and sizing up Jamar, who was now in a defensive stance. Nas bounced the ball and attempted a step-back shot, only for Jamar to snatch the ball mid-air. Jamar had seen Nas pull this move repeatedly in the videos.
As soon as he regained his footing, Jamar dribbled back to the basket with Nas right beside him, trying to pry the ball loose from his hands. They raced to the basket, and both leaped into the air. Jamar executed a windmill poster dunk over Nas, igniting the crowd.
"He meant that! Oh my God, not one but two posters in a matter of seconds. A wonderful sequence here!" exclaimed MC Kraken.
Jamar's dunk shifted the energy in the playground. The crowd roared, their cheers echoing around the court. Anne's tears dried as she watched her brother rise above his fears and frustrations, displaying a newfound intensity and confidence.
The scoreboard now read **7:7** in Jamar's favor. He glanced at Anne, who smiled back at him, full of pride and relief.
Nas, visibly surprised, nodded at Jamar. "Alright, I see you. Let's keep this going."
Jamar knew the game was far from over, but he felt a renewed sense of determination. This was his moment to prove that he wasn't just another player. He was Phantom J, and he was here to stay.