Oliver nodded affirmatively, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. "Absolutely. Let's make it a memorable match," he agreed, reaching for the chess clock to set our agreed-upon time limit.

Before we started, Oliver inquired about the time limit. Glancing at my watch, I noted the time. "Let's go with 5 minutes. I need to head to school soon," I explained.

Oliver's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, but he quickly composed himself. "Alright, 5 minutes it is," he agreed, setting the timer.

With a sense of determination, I started the game with the Smith-Morra Gambit, my favorite opening. It's aggressive, sacrificing a pawn for quick development and control of the center. My opponent accepted the gambit, responding with the Scheveningen Formation, a solid defense. I smiled; I was ready for this.

The game flowed smoothly, each move met with a swift response. The clock ticked away, adding to the intensity. I advanced my knight to c3, eyeing the d5 square. He countered with a6, preparing for b5. My bishop developed to c4, targeting the f7 pawn. His knight came to f6, challenging my control.

The focus was palpable. Each piece moved with purpose, creating a web of strategy. Despite the ticking clock, I felt calm and ready. This was my game, and I had more surprises in store.

After a few minutes of strategic play, the game reached its climax. I executed a bold queen sacrifice, setting up a checkmate with my knight. Oliver's expression shifted, realizing the inevitability of his defeat.

"You've blocked me everywhere. I guess I'm out of moves," Oliver acknowledged with a sigh, acknowledging my victory.

We exchanged a handshake, both showing respect for each other's skill. "Good game," I offered sincerely.

Oliver mirrored my sentiment. "Yeah, it was a good game. Well played, Tyson," he responded graciously.

We recorded our moves in a notepad, a tradition that added formality to the conclusion of our match. Rising from our seats, we made our way towards the door.

As I opened it, the room erupted in applause. Marcus and Henry joined in, slowly Oliver who was standing beside me also joined their cheers blending with those of others in the room.

"Good game, Tyson!"

"You played well!"

"Nice game!!″

″you played well too oliver!″

Oh, I was totally not expecting this I thought as I looked around. The spectators, instead of giving me deadly glares for defeating their favorite player, seemed more impressed with my game. They were nodding appreciatively, discussing the moves with each other. Even after his defeat, Oliver was still respected by them.

"It's kind of nice to see this," I mused, feeling a warm glow of acceptance. "I guess not all people are the same after all." As the applause and chatter gradually faded, I found myself reflecting on the unexpected turn of events. Oliver lingered behind, engaged in lively conversation with a group of curious onlookers, his animated gestures and words echoing in the chamber.

Amidst the dispersing crowd, Marcus and Henry approached me, their faces illuminated by excitement and admiration.

"Tyson, you were amazing!" Henry exclaimed, his youthful enthusiasm palpable.

Marcus joined in with a teasing tone, "Congratulations, new champion!"

I responded "Who are you calling a champion? It wasn't an official match, after all."

Undeterred, Henry persisted. "But you defeated the champion! You should give yourself more credit."

Just as I was about to reply, a pressing concern surfaced in my mind. oh yeah i forget i have to confirm something then i asked Marcus "Hey, Marcus, did any of this leak outside?" I asked, my tone serious.

Marcus hesitated briefly before responding. "W-well, you see, it seems that rumors have spread outside that you and Oliver were going to play a chess match. But don't worry, we made sure the match results didn't leak."

I exhaled a sigh of relief, though I remained cautious. "Please be more careful next time," I urged him, aware of the potential consequences, sometimes i wonder does this guy do this in purpose or not.

Oliver approached me, his expression thoughtful. "Hey, Tyson, I was wondering why you're not entering official tournaments. With the skill and talent you possess, you could easily become a champion," he suggested earnestly.

I chuckled softly, brushing off his praise. "Oh, please, you're overestimating me. I prefer not to stand out too much, and I have other important responsibilities to take care of. I don't think I'm cut out to be a champion," I explained

Oliver's words echoed in my mind, revealing a subtle vulnerability beneath his confident exterior. "Important responsibilities, huh? I guess I understand that. Maybe I am getting weak."

As I observed Oliver's expression, I sensed a complex interplay of emotions. His remark hinted at more than mere acknowledgment of my duties; it betrayed a sense of introspection and self-doubt. Here was a man who had dedicated his life to mastering chess, only to be bested by someone who approached the game with nonchalance. The realization of this defeat must have stirred a profound internal conflict within him.

Despite Oliver's outward kindness, his pride had undoubtedly taken a blow. It's a universal truth: no matter how compassionate or self-aware we are, our pride can be fragile, susceptible to the slightest dent in our self-perception. This defeat was likely challenging his identity, questioning the very core of his dedication and skill.

maybe i should do something ...

"Hey, Oliver, I think you're underestimating yourself," I said, watching his eyes widen in surprise.

He blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"You know, that was a close game, right?" I continued, leaning forward. "One wrong step and I could have lost. So why are you thinking you're weak?"

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck with a fake smile. "But I lost, right?"

Yep, just as I thought. I replied, "So, you think you're weak because you lost?"

Oliver looked confused. "What do you mean?"

I continued, "Well, in my perspective, losing is a great thing." His confusion deepened, so I elaborated, "Losing shows your mistakes and highlights that there are still powerful opponents to surpass. It means you have a chance to take your skills to the next level. It shows that it's not over yet and there's still more to achieve. That feeling alone makes our journey exciting, doesn't it?"

Oliver nodded, considering my words. I pressed on, "Plus, think about your fans. Many people support and respect you, including me. There are new players entering the game who take you as an inspiration and motivation. You've got to do your best to live up to their expectations."

He sighed, "I understand that, but do you think I can do that?"

"Of course, you can," I reassured him. "Take today's match as an example. Even though you lost, people admired your game. They still respect and support you, including me. I still think you're a great player. Just do your best in your own way. You're better than you think. Trust me."

Then slowly, Oliver smiled. This time, it wasn't a fake smile—it was genuine. "I see. Thanks Tyson. I guess I really needed that."

"You're welcome," I replied.

yep this should do the trick. Oliver an 18 years old chess player who has recently become chess champion has faced his first defeat, well in future he will face more challenges and he has to experience more but he has the potential to become world champion i cant let him go down just like that. i gived him the friendly little push he needed now its all up to him considering how he will take my advice if he takes my words seriously than he will do just fine

After some more talk, it was time for Oliver to leave. We escorted him to the entrance to send him off. Before leaving, he turned to me with a confident look.

"Well then, Tyson," he said, "it was nice playing with you. I hope we can meet again, and maybe next time, we can have a rematch. I will definitely defeat you then."

I grinned. "Sure, I'll be looking forward to that."

Oliver extended his hand, and we shook hands firmly. As he got into his sleek black car, he paused and lowered the window. "You know, Tyson," he said, "I really appreciate your words earlier. They meant a lot."

I nodded. ″I'm glad to hear that, Oliver. just remember, every loss is just a stepping stone to becoming stronger."

He smiled genuinely. "Goodbye, Tyson. Take care."

"Yeah, see you around, Oliver," I replied with a wave.

As Oliver drove away, the car's engine humming softly, Marcus and Henry approached me. Marcus spoke up in a teasing tone, "Oh, I didn't know you were a motivational speaker."

I chuckled. "I just explained to him a bit about my perspective, that's all."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "And you guys became friends just like that, huh? But it's strange, though. Oliver doesn't usually make friends easily. I wonder what he saw in you."

I shrugged. "Who knows? By the way, with this, I guess I'm done with chess, right?"

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Marcus glanced at his tablet. "Yeah, with this, your final training test is completed. Good job, Tyson, your training is completed."

Henry smiled and patted my back. "Congratulations, Tyson. You did great."

I smiled and said, "Thank you, guys."

Yep, I was going through execution training under Cedric to become an Executer. One thing I must say: Cedric transforms during training—strict and merciless. His methods may be aggressive, but they work. Over these past five years, I've learned a lot. Budget management of familia, familial affairs, combat training, and gun shooting—all essential skills for an Executer.

Chess was not cedric's idea but something that I personally trained on my own because I like the game. It sharpens my strategic thinking, enhances my ability to anticipate opponents' moves, and improves my decision-making under pressure. New ideas are always born to conquer situations in a different way. These skills aren't just for the chessboard; they've become invaluable tools in my daily life and work. Chess has taught me to stay calm under pressure and think several moves ahead—skills that are just as crucial in real-life situations as they are in the game.

Henry suddenly called out, "Hey Tyson, don't you think you're forgetting something?"

I turned, puzzled. "Hmm? What are you talking about?"

With a smirk, he revealed, "Aren't you getting late for school?"

"!" I took a quick glance at my wristwatch. The time was 8:55. Uh-oh, only five minutes left!

"Yeah, you're right! I gotta hurry up!" I grabbed my bag and started running towards school.

"Big bro!" Henry shouted. I turned around just in time to catch the bicycle keys he tossed to me. "Use the bicycle!" he called out.

I saw my blue gear bicycle, clean and shining. Oh yeah, I left it behind yesterday. I remembered as I ran towards it, quickly unlocking the lock.

I hopped on and started pedaling furiously, the wind rushing past my face. Each turn of the pedal felt like a race against the clock.

As I sped down the street, I turned back and shouted, "Thanks, Henry!" while waving my hand. I saw both Henry and marcus waving back with a grin, their figure getting smaller as I rode away.

Facing forward, I leaned into the handlebars, focusing on the road ahead. My mind raced along with my bike, weaving through the morning traffic.

With every push, I could feel the adrenaline pumping, each second ticking by. The familiar route to school seemed longer today, every red light and pedestrian crossing adding to the challenge.

As I sped down the street on my bike, I passed by the café where I always stopped for coffee. The reason? Albert, the owner, an old man who made the best coffee in town.

I saw Albert coming out of the café and putting up a signboard. "Good morning, Mr. Albert!" I greeted him as I cycled past.

He noticed me and waved. "Oh, good morning, Tyson!"

I smiled, but something caught my eye. The signboard. I glanced back and was surprised to see that it said they were shifting the café. I'd have to ask him about that later, but now I had to hurry to school.

"Better not be late," I muttered to myself, increasing my speed and rushing towards school.

-At Astral City's High School-

The classrooms were filled with the hum of conversations as students chatted while waiting for their teacher. Serena, seated by the window, remained engrossed in her novel, her attention only occasionally diverted by the lively atmosphere around her.

As she turned a page, something outside caught her eye. A certain boy was racing towards the school gate on a blue bicycle, pedaling with all his might. Serena's eyes followed him curiously.

Finally, the school gate came into view for the boy. He glanced at his watch—8:59. Determination flashed in his eyes as he pushed for one last burst of speed, skidding to a stop just in front of the entrance. Panting but triumphant, he locked up his bike and whispered to himself, "Just in time," grabbing his bag and sprinting inside just as the bell rang.

Serena observed the scene unfold from her vantage point, her expression neutral. "Just in time, huh?" she mumbled softly to herself before returning to her novel, the excitement of the moment already fading into the background of her thoughts. There was no smile, just a fleeting acknowledgment of his presence

⫷ 🆂🅴🅰🆁🅲🅷 🅾🅵 🆃🅴🅼🅿🅴🆂🆃 ⫸

Hurrying to the classroom, I dashed through the corridors, my mind racing as fast as my feet. As I turned a corner, a familiar face wearing sharp glasses came into view. He noticed me and started walking towards me.

"It's rare to see you getting late, Tyson. Did you forget the school timings?" Gary said, standing firmly in my way.

"Stop acting like you're still the president, Gary. Plus, I don't think I'm late. I just arrived on time. So, if you step aside, I can get to my classroom and avoid being scolded by the teacher for being late," I replied, slightly irritated.

Gary Foster, a smart guy with great athletic abilities and disciplined habits, he is good at almost everything. He was the student council president but retired since he's now in his third year. Although we're in the same grade, we're in different classes. We aren't particularly close, but we've had brief interactions. Gary's unwavering discipline and the high standards he set for himself and others. He might be strict, but there was no denying his effectiveness as a leader.

"On that matter, you don't need to worry about it since your teacher is absent today," Gary replied with a slight smirk.

"Wait, really?" I asked for confirmation. He nodded, and I sighed in relief. So all that cycling was a waste of energy, but at least I got some proper exercise.

"You're lucky that I'm not president anymore, or else you could have faced a good punishment. I guess making Iris the student council president was a mistake," he said while adjusting his glasses.

"Hey, come on. Go easy on her. She just became the president, so she's working on it. Just give her some time. She's a fast learner; she will improve," I replied.

"You sure trust her a lot, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, kind of," I admitted.

"Well, whatever. I'm going to the staff room to help my teacher. See you later then," he said, walking past me and heading towards the staff room.

"Yeah, see you later," I replied, starting to walk towards my classroom. Just then, Gary suddenly spoke up.

"Oh, by the way, good luck with the exam," he said, stopping me in my tracks. I turned around to look at him.

"Isn't it too early for that? I mean, our third year has just started today," I replied, puzzled.

Gary stopped, facing the opposite direction. He didn't turn around but gave a cold side glance, his tone serious. "I'm not talking about academic exams, Tyson," he said and then continued to the staff room.

As I watched him walk away, many questions started to race through my mind. Not academic exams? Then what exam was he referring to? Was he talking about my training exams? No, no, how would he know about that? Plus, I just completed them. So what was he talking about? Well, it's not the first time he's acted like that. There have been times when he's been cryptic before. Maybe he's not as much of an outsider as he seems. Ah, I've got to stop this—my habit of overthinking.

Still, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something significant was about to happen. Whatever it is, I'll just ask him when the time comes. With a deep breath, I resumed my walk to the classroom, trying to push the unsettling thoughts to the back of my mind

I was now near the classroom, hearing everyone's murmurings. As I entered, all eyes turned toward me. Soon, almost everyone smiled and greeted me with, "Hey Tyson," and "Morning Tyson." While it wasn't unusual for a few people to greet me, having nearly everyone do so was definitely strange.

Returning their greetings, I felt a sense of unease. This wasn't normal. I made my way to my seat in the last row next to the window, placed my bag down, and sat. Suddenly, a girl approached me nervously.

"G-good morning, Tyson," she stammered.

I nodded and returned the greeting. "Good morning."

She quickly ran back to her seat, and I couldn't help but think, okay, now this is definitely strange! I guess I should ask the class rep about it. I glanced to my right and noticed her seat, which was next to mine, was empty though her bag was there. Where did she go? I wondered.

Suddenly, someone called out to me. "Yo, Tyson, what are you doing?"

I looked up and saw my friends standing in front of me—Ethan, Reed, Lucas, and Chloe.

"Hey, guys," I greeted them, relieved to see familiar faces.

Ethan smirked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"More like everyone decided to act weird all at once," I replied, still puzzled by the unusually warm reception.

Reed raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"

"Almost everyone greeted me when I walked in. It's not normal," I explained.

Lucas chuckled. "Maybe its because of that."

"By 'that,' you mean my match today, right?" I asked.

Chloe nodded. "Yep, everyone in the school knows about that, but they don't know what happened in the match."

I sighed in relief. Then Ethan asked, "So, who won?"

"Take a guess," I said.

Without a second thought, Ethan quickly said, "You won, right?"

I nodded. He sighed and said, "Wow, why are we not surprised, guys?"

Everyone wore slight smiles. Reed said, "I guess we got used to it."

"Yeah, true," Chloe chuckled.

Lucas then asked, "So, are you planning to keep it a secret?"

"Of course. I'm already facing a lot of attention; I don't want to deal with more," I said, keeping my head down in a sleeping position.

Suddenly, Ethan said, "If you can't even handle this much, what will you do when you become the execu—"

Before he could finish, Chloe quickly covered his mouth, and I punched him in the stomach—not too hard, though. As he suffered the pain, Chloe released him.

Ethan shouted, "What was that for?! "

"You should know what you're talking about according to your surroundings. What if someone hears us?" I retorted.

"But still, you didn't have to punch me to tell me that," Ethan grumbled.

"I thought that was the best way to make you understand," I said, looking outside the window.

"You little—" Ethan was trying to make an attempt, but Reed, Lucas, and Chloe were holding him back, which was quite a funny scene if you ask me.

Suddenly, I heard a voice. "Attention, everyone. Since our teacher is absent today, our substitute teacher, Mrs. Rose, is going to take the class. Until she arrives, please silently do self-study."

I looked to see who it was and saw a beautiful brown-haired girl wearing glasses standing near the blackboard. Yep, that's our class rep, Sophia. She's really disciplined, good at academics, and a hard-working girl. Not to mention, she has elements that make her a great leader, so that's why everyone in class depends on her and follows her.

Sophia continued, "Please make sure to keep the noise level down. Mrs. Rose will be here shortly."

Reed, Lucas, and Chloe finally let go of Ethan, who rubbed his stomach, still glaring at me. "Fine, fine, I get it. No more blurting out sensitive information," he muttered.

I gave a slight smile and a nod. They went to their respective benches. Then I saw Sophia take her seat next to me and started doing her self-study.

"Good morning, Sophia," I greeted.

She looked at me and smirked. "Oh my, so even the great Tyson can be late, huh?"

"I'm human too, you know. I sometimes make mistakes," I replied.

"Well, consider yourself lucky because the teacher isn't here. Or else—"

"Oh, spare me. I already heard that from Gary, so give me a break," I said while taking out my books.

Sophia said, "Since it's your first time, I'll make an exception and let this slide. But there won't be a second time, so try to always be on time, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, looking at my book.

"Good," she said.

I gave her a side glance and saw that she was reading her book, but she had a little smile. She looks beautiful when she smiles like that. She should do it more often. Should I tell her that? Nah, that would creep her out. Better to keep it to myself.

Suddenly, she said, "Our seniors graduated, huh?"

I looked at her as she continued, "Now that Alex has left, I guess your only competitor is going to be Gary, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I replied. After Alex, Gary was the most challenging person. There were even times when he almost won, so I guess he'll put up a good competition.

Then she asked, "Speaking of Alex, what is he doing after graduation?"

I looked outside the window and said, "I'm sure he's doing the things he must do."

Sophia nodded thoughtfully. "Alex always had a clear path in mind. I suppose he's tackling it head-on, as always."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," I agreed. Alex was always so determined and focused. He was the kind of person who knew exactly what he wanted and went for it without hesitation. Gary, on the other hand, was more adaptable, capable of excelling in multiple areas, which made him a formidable competitor.

Sophia's voice brought me back from my thoughts. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have a simpler life, without all these expectations and competitions?"

I pondered her question for a moment. "Sometimes, but then I think about how these challenges shape us. They push us to be better."

She smiled again, this time with a hint of admiration. "You're right, Tyson. It's just that, seeing you all the time, I realize how much pressure you must be under. You handle it well."

"Thanks, it means a lot coming from you," I said with a slight smile

I watched Sophia quickly turn back to her book, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. It was amusing to see her, usually so composed, getting flustered over a simple tease.

"S-shut up and do your self-study, idiot," she stammered, clearly trying to regain her composure.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, president," I replied, enjoying her rare moment of fluster.

I glanced at my watch and noticed the date: June 17. Today's the day of submission, the Sun Familia's official return huh? I thought. Looking out the window, the beautiful blue sky and the soft breeze provided a tranquil backdrop to my thoughts.

He must be doing the things he must do...

-To be continued-