Charles looked indifferent, seated in the last row, observing the chess match only on the large screen. A chess novice, his life lived on a knife's edge left him little energy for leisurely pursuits. Lacking formal instruction, his understanding of the game was basic, yet he recognized the match as evenly balanced. A thin film of frost coated his face. When Kaiden proactively addressed him, Charles didn't even glance up, coldly stating, "The instructor won't lose."
Kaiden sneered at Charles's reaction. Though unwilling to admit it, he knew the instructor, having volunteered, would undoubtedly win. Regardless of the current game state, the outcome was predetermined. He mused, If Robin is a prodigy, then the instructor is a genius among geniuses! This world champion has reached his limit today, he thought, and that's exactly what I wanted. If Robin and I both win, there's no comparison. Only one win and one loss can clearly show the difference between us, right? Stepping on Robin's back to rise to power had been Kaiden's plan, but he hadn't anticipated the instructor's intervention.
Kaiden stood, looming over Charles. His expression was gloomy, his tone complex and opaque. "Charles," he began, "back in training camp, I envied you. I admit, I still do. In swordsmanship, you can't match me; in cunning, you fall short of Carson. Yet, the instructor chose you. Carson and I nearly died because of you. With her backing, you've risen to Seventy-Two Chambers General Master, becoming Braydon's greatest asset."
He paused, a hint of schadenfreude coloring his voice. "Too bad you're so foolish. You betrayed Braydon to adhere to the instructor's rule against poison, ending up a stray dog, clinging to the instructor for protection. I despise you."
Charles looked up, his expression calm and unremarkable, then surveyed Kaiden. "You remain the same," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Narrow-minded, sinister, and crafty." He laughed.
Kaiden paused, surprised. I humiliated him, and he's still smiling?
Charles continued, each word precise. "Kaiden, look in a mirror. You resemble a resentful woman. I'm content as a freeloader by the instructor's side, happy and free. What concern is that of yours? If you truly desire her attention, try getting her to even glance at you. She would find you repugnant, even as a lowly worm!"
Kaiden, unable to retaliate in that setting, was taken aback by Charles's sharp tongue. He spat out, "Take care of yourself!" and stormed off.
Charles snorted. Kaiden's intentions are transparent. Does he truly believe that if Robin loses the chess match, he’ll win in fencing? Jeremiah, though seemingly unskillful, had risen to his position young, chosen by the instructor; he couldn't be entirely inept.
On stage, Robin's face paled, a sheen of sweat appearing on his brow. His eyes darted, betraying a thoughtful yet anxious expression. He felt Yvette had subtly disrupted his plans, drawing him into a carefully laid trap. Observing her nonchalant demeanor, his panic deepened. What should I play next? He'd underestimated her, a master's chess game where a single misstep could be disastrous. He couldn't afford to be careless.
The media focused their cameras on Robin, who remained motionless. The website's upgraded servers handled the massive viewership flawlessly, providing high-definition streams, capturing even his pores. Robin's anxiety was broadcast for all to see.
Website comments flooded in:
[Is Robin stuck? Can't make a move? Oh my God, the goddess is amazing, she can push Robin to this level.] [I've watched Robin's matches. He's always been so arrogant, basically forcing opponents to give up. Didn't expect this day would come for him.] [Someone upstairs is right, I've also studied his chess moves; they're very tricky and unexpected. But the goddess didn't follow his strategies from the start. She must have figured him out!] [I’m going crazy for the goddess, she’s so awesome! Not only is she good in Interpol, but now she’s also so good at chess.] [This isn’t just good, it’s a complete, low-key, overwhelming crush. So satisfying!] [If the goddess marries me, I’ll have monkeys with you. Marry me, marry me, important things need to be said a hundred times!] [Weakly asking, is there a chess expert here to explain the situation? Who has the advantage here?]
This last comment sparked a flurry of explanations:
[I’m from the Chess Association, just a nobody. Our president is also watching the live broadcast. He says the game is evenly matched now, but the goddess has a slight advantage. The president said he can’t understand the goddess’s next moves, so it’s hard to say.] [What the person upstairs said is right. Robin is the world champion, he must have his own trump cards. It’s still hard to tell.]
On the Eastern Hotel stage, Yvette glanced at the clock; ten minutes remained. The warm-up was over; the game must conclude. She smirked, opting for a decisive move. To break someone, one must let them taste victory before snatching it away. She had willingly entered Robin's trap.
Robin stared at the black piece in Yvette's hand, consumed by anxiety, praying for her move. As long as she places that piece there, I will definitely win. This chess game will be decided!
Yvette moved the piece. The audience gasped. Even we saw that move was wrong. Isn't she just giving him an opportunity? Didn't Yvette realize this? What is she doing? Is she seeking death?
Aurora clutched her purse. Looking at everyone’s reaction, Yvette made a wrong move? If I had known earlier, I would have learned chess well back then. She'd disliked chess as a child, finding it boring. Now, she understood little. She tugged Clifford's sleeve, whispering, "Honey, Yvette made a wrong move? Why are they reacting like this?"
Clifford squeezed her hand. "It's okay, she knows what she's doing."