Billiards: Starting with the Overlord's Shot, Dominating the World

"Zhiwei, you are simply my treasure!" Fan Zhengyang exclaimed sincerely.

"No, not at all..." Ye Zhiwei was a little embarrassed by the praise. She pointed to a statistic on the screen and said softly, "But I've noticed a problem. Your forehand attack scores are very high, but... your mistakes are also mainly concentrated on your forehand. Especially when attacking continuously with your feet turned to the side, your footwork sometimes can't keep up."

Fan Zhengyang was taken aback.

Even the coach didn't point out this problem, and he himself only vaguely felt a little awkward about it, but unexpectedly Ye Zhiwei keenly noticed it.

"How did you figure that out?" he asked curiously.

"Look," Ye Zhiwei clicked on a video clip, which was a slow-motion replay of Fan Zhengyang's match just now. "Look here, when you turned to the side to hit this ball, your left foot was 0.1 seconds slower than your right foot, which caused your body's center of gravity to lean back a bit. So although this cricket ball had a lot of power, the arc was not stable enough, and it grazed the net."

As she spoke, she drew auxiliary lines on the screen with her finger, analyzing the situation with great clarity and logic.

Fan Zhengyang was completely convinced.

This isn't a data analyst; this is practically a "human outline master" with a built-in 8x zoom scope!

He suddenly felt that meeting Ye Zhiwei might be even luckier than obtaining the system.

The system gave him an upper limit, while Ye Zhiwei helped him solidify his lower limit, making him more perfect and without any flaws.

"Thank you, Zhiwei." Fan Zhengyang looked at her, his eyes becoming more serious than ever before.

As he gazed at her like that, Ye Zhiwei's heart began to race uncontrollably again.

She looked away and said softly, "We...we're friends, it's only right that we help each other."

"Just friends?" Fan Zhengyang asked, almost as if possessed.

"Huh?" Ye Zhiwei's mind went blank, and she almost dropped the thermos in her hand.

Seeing her adorable, flustered expression, Fan Zhengyang chuckled and reached out to ruffle her hair: "Just kidding! Come on, to thank my personal analyst, I'll treat you to milk tea today, full sugar and ice!"

"Oh...okay..." Ye Zhiwei nodded dizzily, her heart pounding like a deer's, her cheeks burning hot enough to fry an egg.

In the setting sun, the shadows of the two boys were stretched long.

One was tall and handsome, the other was charming and lovely.

They walked side by side, discussing all sorts of things about billiards.

The evening breeze carried the scent of fresh grass and the subtle, sweet ambiguity between the young boy and girl.

The final day of the Blue Ocean City High School League.

The Xingyao Gymnasium was packed with people, every seat filled.

A giant holographic projection in the center of the stadium continuously played the two teams' paths to the next round.

When the camera focuses on Fan Zhengyang's astonishing "Overlord Twist," it always elicits thunderous cheers from the entire audience.

"Jungyang! Jungyang! Champion! Champion!"

Banners fluttered and slogans resounded in the area where the No. 3 Middle School cheerleading team was located.

Ye Zhiwei and several other girls waved their cheering sticks energetically, their fair faces filled with tension and anticipation.

After his breakout performance in the semifinals, where he defeated five opponents in a row, Fan Zhengyang has transformed from a "mysterious water cooler" into the hottest rising star in this league.

His fan base has grown exponentially, with even girls from other schools coming specifically to catch a glimpse of this billiards prince.

"Ha, a bunch of ignorant fools."

Wang Zhi, the coach of Fengyun No.1 Middle School, looked at the enthusiastic audience and a disdainful sneer appeared on his face.

Beside him sat a dark-skinned, lean boy.

The boy had a calm gaze and a restrained demeanor. He was carefully wiping his racket, which was noticeably larger than a regular racket, with a deerskin cloth, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

He is Wang Zhi's secret weapon for this final – Songpa, a defensive chopper genius from a Southeast Asian country.

"Songpa, do you see that kid they call a genius?" Wang Zhi pointed to Fan Zhengyang, who was warming up.

Songpa looked up, glanced at it, and said in slightly broken Mandarin, "I saw it. The attack is fierce, but the lower body is unstable, and the error rate is... very high." (Mainly because Fan Zhenyang's table tennis skills are not yet fully mastered.)

"That's right!" Wang Zhi nodded in satisfaction. "His aggressive style of play does have an advantage against players like us in China who have trained in rallies since childhood. But he hasn't played against truly high-level defensive players! Your defensive shots, with their varied spin and wide defensive range, are the natural nemesis of his aggressive style!"

A sinister glint flashed in Wang Zhi's eyes.

He spared no expense for this final, using his connections to "borrow" Songpa, a player who was already somewhat famous in the Southeast Asian youth competition, from an overseas exchange club, and registered him as an exchange student at the last minute.

He studied all of Fan Zhengyang's match videos and came to the conclusion that this kid's attack was just a "three-pronged attack." Once the first three attacks failed to kill the opponent, and the game entered a long rally, his mistakes would increase dramatically.

The best thing about chopping is dragging the game into endless long rallies!

"When you go on the court, don't think about anything," Wang Zhi instructed. "Just one word—defense! Stick to him like glue, wear him down! Make all his efforts hit cotton, make him go from hope to disappointment, and finally to despair! I want everyone to see how utterly vulnerable that so-called genius is in the face of my meticulously planned tactics!"

"Understood." Songpa nodded, his eyes calm and still.

……

"Athletes from both sides enter the field!"

With a loud shout from the referee, the final match officially began. (The team competition here is simplified; to speed up the pace, it is set as a best-of-three series.)

In the first doubles match, the three-man combination was slightly stronger and won the game.

In the second singles match, Zhao Kai, the former captain of the Third Middle School, took to the court against his old rival Li Hao. He fought hard but still lost 1-3.

The score is 1:1.

The third singles match at this point is crucial; it's a game that will decide the outcome, a game that everyone is watching closely.

"Don't worry! We still have Fan Shen!"

"Yes! As long as Fan Shen is here, anything is possible! Watch him crush his opponents once again!"

Although the students from No. 3 Middle School in the audience were nervous, the presence of Fan Zhengyang kept the flame of hope burning in their hearts.

In the third match, Fan Zhengyang made his appearance amidst great anticipation.

His opponent was none other than the dark-skinned foreign boy, Songpa.

"Hmm? Fengyun No.1 Middle School has changed its personnel?" Fan Zhengyang raised an eyebrow slightly as he looked at the unfamiliar opponent in front of him.

"Zhengyang, watch out!" Ye Zhiwei anxiously warned from the sidelines through a specially made invisible earpiece. "I can't find any information about this person. He's only registered temporarily! Look at his racket, it's a specially made large blade, and the rubber is strange too. He's probably a defensive player!"

"Interesting," Fan Zhengyang smiled.

What he likes most is playing these kinds of unknown and challenging matches.