Ji Yunzhi didn’t even bother to wipe it off.
A thin trail of drool glistened down his chin.
"Oh no." soone muttered from the crowd. "He’s not an alchemist anymore. He’s sothing else."
"A fallen genius..."
"A rogue scholar..."
"A demonic billiards sect elder."
"Shut up, he’s just focused!"
Focused?
That was one word for it.
Right now, Ji Yunzhi looked less like a promising young player and more like soone halfway through a Qi Deviation breakdown. That sa expression a cultivator gets right before they try so forbidden move they definitely shouldn’t have read on a crumpled scroll.
Ji Yunzhi was already in position.
Cue in hand.
The cue ball sat behind a tight ss of solids. Nothing clean. No obvious lines.
Every other option scread: "Safe shot and pray."
But he wasn’t here to play safe.
He crouched low.
His gaze didn’t just scan the angles.
It consud every trajectory as if morizing a secret art.
Then ca sudden movent.
The cue snapped forward.
Crack!
The cue ball jumped!
"..."
Yes, it jumped. Not by accident. Not a fluke.
It lifted just enough to skip the front ball clean.
Clipped the edge of the target.
The object ball hit the far rail, bounced once, then curled into the corner pocket with precision so unnatural it felt designed.
The cue ball rolled to a stop, perfectly centered, with a wide-open next shot waiting.
Silence.
Then -
"What the hell..."
"That was a jump-masse shot."
"With exact recoil correction."
"That’s not sothing you do. That’s sothing you read about. In theory."
"How is that possible...? Is he using qi?"
"Wait, no! Didn’t Senior Hao explain that the table suppresses all your qi and any kind of external power?"
"It really does. Even if you try everything, you won’t be able to cheat it."
"There’s no exception. Not even the sect masters or elders can override it."
"So..."
"So he really pulled that off using pure skill?"
Hua Feixue swallowed hard.
"He’s actually that good?"
Hao blinked.
Twice.
Correct content is on
Because even with everything he’d seen in this world, what Ji Yunzhi just pulled off made him question if his eyes were still working properly.
He had seen jump-masse shots before. On Earth, they were in flashy trick shot compilations. Clips with dramatic music, slow motion edits, and professional players who practiced them in isolated conditions over and over again.
But not once had he seen anyone perform it cleanly in the middle of a real match.
And never like that.
No warm-up. No hesitation. No checking the angle five tis with a laser pointer. Ji Yunzhi had stepped in, took one quick asure, then struck as if he had morized every dinsion of the table in his sleep.
That wasn’t just control. That was total familiarity.
His connection to the table and cue ran so deep, every movent flowed as if his hands and the wood shared the sa pulse.
And what made it all even more ridiculous was that the shot had actual match function. This wasn’t so show-off display.
He didn’t do it for flash. He did it because it was the only way to hit the ball clean and get favorable positioning after. The jump had to happen. The spin had to redirect.
The bounce off the far rail had to line up just right. And he pulled it all off in one fluid strike.
That was why it was so hard. Not because the shot itself was physically impossible, but because doing it with intent, in the middle of a ga, with pressure breathing down your neck, that was what separated highlight reels from history.
And Ji Yunzhi?
He just made history.
A few of the seasoned custors were still stuck with mouths open, trying to process what they’d seen.
Even those who didn’t fully grasp the technicality could feel it.
That wasn’t luck. That was terrifying clarity in motion.
From there, there was no stopping Ji Yunzhi.
Each strike was fast, decisive, but never reckless. It was all clean lines, sharp turns, and deadly accuracy.
Shot after shot landed with perfect precision.
Not a single ball was wasted.
Not a single second of hesitation.
It mirrored the sa kind of control Elder Bai Qingshui had displayed in the first ga - except this ti, it wasn’t calm like a still pond.
It was focused madness.
A fire trying to prove it could burn cleaner than ice.
The sixth shot landed.
Then the seventh.
Without pause, Ji Yunzhi sent the final ball into the corner pocket with a short, confident flick.
Thunk.
Silence.
Then -
"The ga goes to Bai Chen!" Hao announced, eyes widening even though he’d just seen it happen with his own eyes.
"One win each!"
A wave of sound burst out from the room.
The finals had just gotten real.
All eyes turned back to Ji Yunzhi.
Because now, he would take the break shot.
All he had to do now... was make it count.
A good break. That was it.
That was the key.
And based on what they had just witnessed, based on the way Ji Yunzhi had turned an impossible position into a flawless run -
That break could decide everything.
If even one ball sank...
If even the worst angle fell into his lap...
There was a chance he would still pull off a miracle.
"Bai Chen’s awakened sothing, I swear."
"This is bad. If he gets a good break shot next... Senior Bai might actually lose."
"But what if he doesn’t get a clean spread?"
"No way! Does it even matter at this point? He made that ridiculous angled shot earlier!"
"Right? That ball had no business going in. Clean spread or not, he might just bend the whole table to his will again."
"No wonder he didn’t take the Senior Bai’s offer. He’d already committed to his own rhythm long before the match began."
"Mm." Hao gave a low hum.
’What do you think, Little Xixi?’
’Think you could beat Ji Yunzhi?’
’Ji Yunzhi?’ Mo Xixi repeated.
She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes, and made a dramatic "aha" gesture with her finger.
’Ahh! You an that bald man, boss?’
Mo Xixi swung her legs back and forth as if thinking seriously.
’He’s definitely improving fast.’ she said, giving a nod.
’At this rate, maybe he’ll beat everyone in the store.’
’Except?’
’Except , obviously.’ Mo Xixi puffed up, chin lifting proudly.
’Even if he got ten years of enlightennt and three lucky encounters, he wouldn’t beat , boss.’
’I’m .’
’You’re asking the wrong question.’
Hao blinked. ’Am I?’
She nodded firmly. ’You shouldn’t be asking if I could beat him. You should be asking if he can beat .’
’...So confident.’
Mo Xixi turned to glare at him, face scrunched in exaggerated offense. ’What’s that tone, boss?’
’Nothing.’
’You don’t believe I can win?’
’Didn’t say that.’
’But you thought it.’
’I just asked a question.’
Her eyes narrowed. ’Mmhmm.’
She crossed her arms with an exaggerated huff, as if Hao had just slapped her reputation in front of a crowd of judgntal aunties.
’You’re already putting down, boss. Don’t you know I’m stronger than that man?’
’Which man?’
Mo Xixi gave a smug look. ’If you only allowed employees to enter this tournant, we’d already have a different winner.’
’Not him.’
Hao raised a brow. ’Him?’
There was a beat.
Then he looked toward the table - toward Ji Yunzhi.
A quiet thought ford in the back of his mind.
Had she already deduced... or rather, decided... that the winner would be Ji Yunzhi?
That alone was impressive.
He hadn’t declared the result, but for Mo Xixi to say that without hesitation... She’d already seen how things were lining up.
Mo Xixi answered anyway. ’Ji Yunzhi, boss. That bald guy.’
’He should be able to finish this match easil.,’ she said with that unshakable certainty only geniuses and particularly sassy fourteen-year-olds possessed. ’
If not, then he’s not even worthy to challenge .’
’He’s in his zone. Or rather, in peak form.’
’His shot execution? Minimal energy loss. Cue movent? Stable. Precision? Within half a milliter deviation.’
She held up her pinky.
’That much error still leads to clean shots. Which ans he’s seeing the whole table in layers.’
’Not just one move ahead - but three or four. It’s not just technique. It’s presence.’
Hao let out a low whistle.
Mo Xixi leaned back smugly.
’He’s strong. Right now, stronger than most.’
She turned her head, cocky smile returning.
’But not stronger than .’
’What about you, boss? Think you could beat him?’
Hao didn’t even blink.
’Beat him?’
He shrugged. ’Probably.’
Mo Xixi squinted. ’...Probably?’
’Yeah. If I wanted to.’
’If you - ’ Her eyes bulged. ’Boss!’
’What?’ Hao stretched lazily, arms behind his head.
’Co on, Little Xixi. You really think I’d take these kids seriously?’
’Kids?!’
’You. Him. Everyone in this tournant. Bunch of babies smacking colorful marbles around.’
Mo Xixi’s jaw dropped. ’You’ve been watching like a hawk since the first round!’
’That’s called being a responsible storekeeper and host.’
’You were clapping as if there’s no end after every performance, boss!’
Hao held up a finger. ’Correction - motivational clapping.’
’That’s not a thing!’
’It is.’
’Gotta keep the energy high. If I don’t hype the crowd, who will? You want this place to feel dull?’
’Lifeless?’
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