The matches rolled on one after another.
Laughter mixed with focused silence. Cheers here and there. And the occasional groan of a missed shot that was so close.
Not everyone ca in to win.
In fact, most of them already knew they wouldn’t make it to the semi-finals. They weren’t blind. The difference in skill was clear as day.
But that didn’t an they couldn’t enjoy it.
For many, this wasn’t about the prize. This was practice - polished, structured, and more intense than any casual ga they’d ever played.
Because unlike their usual spars with other custors , this was a real tournant.
Real pressure. Real eyes watching.
Real opponents who wanted to win just as much, if not more.
And the logic was simple.
If the store held another one in the future - and everyone knew it would - this was the warm-up.
A chance to test their nerves.
To feel what it was like to stand at the table with expectations weighing on their back.
A rare kind of trial where the only injuries were to pride and maybe so sore wrists.
Sure, so of them went all-in with high hopes.
They chalked their cues with confidence. Talked a little too much about "technique" and "table control."
And then they quickly lost. Spectacularly.
One even sank the cue ball twice in a row.
Soone tried to play defensively... only to accidentally clear their opponent’s balls instead.
Skill issues? Absolutely.
But at least they showed up.
Even if they walked away muttering excuses, they still smiled by the end.
Sotis, falling flat was just part of the fun.
After couple of gas, the match Hao had been waiting for was finally about to begin.
Ji Yunzhi versus Dou Xinshi.
It wasn’t the most skill-packed matchup, sure.
But it had potential.
Mostly because Dou Xinshi was playing like he had so ancient grudge to settle.
He stood there like a man with sothing to prove, cracking his knuckles and narrowing his eyes at Ji Yunzhi as if the rogue alchemist had stolen his inheritance, crashed his flying sword, and insulted his grandmother all in one afternoon.
Hao figured Dou Xinshi would dominate this match.
Ji Yunzhi was, after all, a complete beginner.
Most of the spectators expected a short ga too.
Dou Xinshi wasn’t a genius, but he wasn’t bad either.
And Ji Yunzhi?
Well... those who had witnessed his first ever ga before the tournant still whispered about it.
One of the worst performances in the store’s short billiards history.
The people who knew him as Bai Chen, the rogue alchemy talent from Sovereign City, all agreed on one thing.
He could concoct great pills even with his young age.
But line up a straight shot?
Not a chance.
Hao flipped a copper coin. It spun, glittered midair, and landed in his palm.
"Dou Xinshi gets the break."
Dou Xinshi stepped forward, chin raised, cue already resting on his shoulder. He pointed straight at Ji Yunzhi, fire in his eyes.
"You’re about to get clapped, brat. I’ll teach you how we handle disrespect in this store."
"..."
Ji Yunzhi blinked. Once. Slowly.
’Brat?’ he thought.
He scratched his head, yawned, and said with complete honesty,
"Mm. I thought we were still warming up."
He hadn’t even picked up his cue yet.
Ji Yunzhi still rembered this man.
Did he really still carry that weird hatred from last ti?
Over what?
He truly had no idea.
Not that it mattered.
Ji Yunzhi hadn’t co to argue.
He ca to win. And to walk away with his box of Wing Blast.
No need to boast. No need to yap. Finishing the match quickly was just efficient.
The faster he crushed his opponent, the faster he could return to his alchemy chamber, lock the doors, and pretend this whole "outside world" thing never existed.
On the other side of the table, Dou Xinshi stretched his shoulders, radiating the intensity of a man about to summon the heavens, and muttered sothing that sounded suspiciously like nonsense.
"Power of Instant Noodles... guide my shot."
"..."
Several people blinked.
Did he just say instant noodles?
Dou Xinshi crouched down, eyes serious, his whole posture trembling.
The cue struck with a sharp, clean snap.
One in.
Then another. Then a third ball kissed the rail and dropped gently into a corner pocket.
Gasps rippled through the room.
Maybe Dou Xinshi really was serious about this.
"Divine trajectory." he whispered, nodding to himself.
But the fourth shot?
Too much confidence. Too much windup. Not enough angle.
The cue ball slamd into the target with a hollow thud, and the ball ricocheted uselessly into the side rail.
Dou Xinshi froze. His lips parted slightly in disbelief.
It was Ji Yunzhi’s turn.
No one really expected much from him. Not after what they saw in his first ga.
Except for Hao.
He had watched that quiet stance. The way Ji Yunzhi held the cue. The sharp stillness. The unassuming balance.
So people just had the look.
That kind of calm didn’t co from nowhere.
It was the sa feeling you’d get watching the quiet guy in the corner of a billiards hangout, the one nobody noticed - until he cleared a table without saying a word.
And just like that, the shift happened.
Ji Yunzhi stepped up.
And the version of him from that embarrassing first ga?
Gone.
He chalked once. Aligned. Then struck.
The ball dropped.
Then another. Then a third, gliding across a narrow lane with just enough spin to roll into the side pocket.
Harder angles followed. Shots most players wouldn’t even attempt.
Yet each ball fell.
One by one. Steady. Clean. Unhurried.
Not a single miss.
Soone whispered. "Did he sell his soul for billiard skills?"
Another muttered. "No. He was possessed... by the storekeeper."
And before anyone could blink twice...
It was over.
Ji Yunzhi had destroyed Dou Xinshi in one turn.
No misses. No rcy. No chance.
It wasn’t just a win. It was an absolute shutout.
Dou Xinshi hadn’t even had ti to reload his montum.
It felt straight out of an ani. A character on the verge of awakening.
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