The attendant in the billiard room was setting up the balls on the felt surface when Bruce said to Samantha, “I know you’re here to pick up some pool skills, little girl, but you chose the wrong mentor. The guy next to you is a newbie who just got in the club. If you’re looking for a real expert to teach you, I’m your man. I might even teach you for free.” The burly man flashed her a leering smile as he tried to persuade her, but she ignored him and stood quietly to the side, keeping her eyes fixed on Christopher. Not expecting to be given the cold shoulder, Bruce grew sullen and his injured pride naturally made him put the blame on Christopher. In retrospect, a thousand for each ball that was pocketed was far too less; he should have racked up the price to ten thousand instead. When the balls were set up, he did not wait for Christopher to speak and immediately bent over the table as he drawled, “Hey, punk—I’ll go easy on you and make the break-shot, but don’t expect any more civility from me after this!” They were playing eight-ball, and the person who made the break shot would inevitably have the advantage. Bruce had probably offered to make the break-off thinking that Christopher could not possibly emerge victorious out of this game. He would not be so courteous otherwise. Christopher shrugged, indicating for the other man to proceed with the break-off. He had no qualms about letting another make the break shot. With a smirk, Bruce drew his arm back and he was prepared to make a flamboyant break shot to stun the onlookers around them. However, just as he had taken aim and was about to launch the cue stick forward, Christopher interjected, “Wait!” The adrenaline that had built up in Bruce drained out of him instantaneously. Irritated, he snapped, “What the hell are we waiting for? You can’t just turn and walk away now that we’ve started. You’re going to have to stay till the end, no matter what!” “I’m not walking away from the game,” Christopher countered with a chuckle. “I just need to use the restroom before we start.” “Oh—for God’s sake, why couldn’t you have gone sooner?” Bruce barked, then waved him off impatiently. “Go on, then!” After turning to give Samantha a look which silently told her to stay put, Christopher made his way toward the adjoining restroom in the billiard room. In the restroom, he took out his phone and clicked into the Thumbs-Up Online Mall application. A game of billiards was centered on the players’ judgment on the angles at which to strike the balls, the applicable force to pot the balls, and how each strike would turn out. Consequently, the players’ judgment on these things was determined by their agility. Presently, the Agility Dumplings that were being sold on the online mall would increase one’s agility by tenfold within three minutes of consumption; if Christopher were to take them, he would be undefeatable throughout the game. While three minutes was more than enough for him to beat Bruce in the game, he bought two Agility Dumplings nonetheless, which cost him 200 thumbs-up points. Better safe than sorry, he thought ruefully. The 200 points he had spent were equivalent to 20,000 in cash. This was money that he could not set off even if he were to take the 7,000 in winnings, and this made him doubt for a moment as to the worth of the purchase. No, that’s not how it works, he chided himself. Once he and Bruce were done with the game, the system would reward him with points. He wasn’t sure about the number of points he would get, but he didn’t think it would be too much of a stretch for the system to reward him with something close to 200 points. The volume of the thumbs-up points I’ll get in return would be the most practical gain. With that in mind, he finished the two Agility Dumplings. It wasn’t long before a surge of warmth rose through him and he began to feel as though he was made of air—in fact, he felt carefree and reckless. Knowing that the dumplings were taking effect, he chuckled darkly and walked out of the restroom. “What? Did you get your head stuck in the toilet or something?” Bruce barked irritably when Christoper returned to the billiard room. “If there’s nothing else you have to take care of, then hurry up and start the game! You’re being such a goddamn waste of my time!” Bruce’s annoyance was clearly at its peak, for after he was done lashing out at Christopher, he bent over the pool table once more. With a hard stroke, he executed an aggressive break shot and sent the object balls spreading out over the table. “Your turn!” he snapped impatiently after the break-off as he stepped away from the table. Christopher knew that Samantha was the only one here with any confidence in him, but he was also aware that there was no better moment than the present to show off his prowess. Nothing had changed about the pool table and the cue stick, but something was definitely different about him. Reckless confidence sang in his veins, and he was sure that he could pot all the balls even if he were to switch from his dominant right hand to his left for the game. Having bent over the table, he took aim and drew his arm back, then released the cue that sent the white cue ball rolling across the felt surface. With a whoosh, the white cue ball accelerated toward the object ball that was numbered 6, which had been spread far from the rack following Bruce’s break shot. Upon seeing the strength with which Christopher executed his stroke, Bruce sputtered. He’s a newbie, after all! This was a standard game of billiards, and the distance between the cue ball and the object balls measured up to three-quarters of the pool table, thereby making for a much wider angle that the player would have to consider before taking their shot. Rookie mistake to make such an aggressive stroke under these circumstances, he wanted to sneer at the other man. Should have loosened up your grip when you released the cue. There’s no way you’ll pot it. After all, only professionals who had refined precision and control over the angles in billiards could succeed in potting the balls with such a shot; otherwise, the ball would only come back out of the pocket. He wanted to scoff at Christopher. Big talker, eh? Shouldn’t have challenged me to a game of pool when you can’t even exert control over your cue. Hope you enjoy the disgrace of a single-shot elimination! “Time to show him what a proper game looks like,” he muttered arrogantly under his breath as he chalked his cue tip. I’m going to show him how it’s done!Meanwhile, those who had gathered in the room were more or less old-timers, and they all shook their heads in disapproval when they saw the stroke Christopher had executed. For all they cared, the young man was painfully new to the game. Their thoughts were clearly written on their faces. With such amateur skills, where did he even get the audacity to challenge someone else to a game in the first place? At this rate, he’s just throwing away money on a futile bet! Samantha, on the other hand, had no idea how billiards worked but judging from how affronted everyone else looked, she could tell that Christopher had started off his game wrong. Her heart clenched worriedly at the thought that he might have overestimated himself. Meanwhile, everyone might be mourning over the regrettable power with which he had delivered the shot, but they overlooked the angle he had taken. Unbeknownst to them, the agility buff he had taken allowed him to attain the finesse and prowess of even the most renowned professional billiards player, and they watched in surprise as his so-called regrettable stroke actually sent the object ball rolling into the nearest pocket with a decided thud. At that moment, the onlookers froze. Samantha was the only one who let out a whooping cheer at this unexpected turn of events, while Bruce’s jaw dropped and the taunts he had reserved for Christopher crumbled away on his tongue as he stared at the potted ball in shell-shocked silence. No, it couldn’t have gone in! Only a true professional with flawless precision could make that shot. It has to be luck—there’s no other explanation for it! “Hey!” Christopher called out to the bewildered man. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Bruce snapped out of his thoughts, then barked at Christopher angrily, “Don’t look so pleased with yourself. You were just lucky is all!” “Lucky?” Christopher laughed coldly. Why is it that some people love to reduce others’ successes to nothing more than luck? Such self-denial can’t be good for anybody. Feeling as if it was his duty to put Bruce in his place, he bent over the table once more and used the same method—with the same amount of force and at the same angle—to pot another object ball that was near the cushion. The unmistakable thud that followed the pocketing reverberated in the silent room. “Still think luck has anything to do with this?” he asked mockingly after the ball was pocketed, sneering at Bruce as he straightened up.The latter flushed angrily, rendered speechless by the other man’s cocky display. Luck might have a lot to do with how the ball was pocketed the first time, but it was clear to see now that there was more talent in him than met the eye. As much as he hated it, Bruce had to admit that it was his mistake to deem this man as a rookie. And so, he grudgingly allowed the possibility that Christopher was a master of billiards. Nonetheless, he taunted, “So what if it isn’t luck? If you’re so great, why don’t you clear the table?”