image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]

40) CHESS COMPETITION: ALEX IS EASILY DEFEATED

The cold air hung heavy in the venue as North College's next player, Ronald, stepped forward to face Alex. Alex, captain of South College, wore a mask of confidence but felt a familiar sting of impatience underneath. He had just been bested by a younger player, and the pressure to redeem himself was suffocating. Yet, his opponent, Ronald, remained calm, unbothered by the stakes of the match.

The signal to start the game was given. Ronald opened with 2.Bc4, the Italian Game—a choice that felt calculated, sharp. Alex's fingers trembled as he studied the board, sensing the quiet storm that Ronald was brewing. The early moves felt benign, but soon Ronald’s attack sharpened. By the time he played 6.f4, the pressure on Alex’s kingside was mounting. Each exchange of pawns sliced through Alex’s defenses, and he found himself drowning in a wave of moves he hadn’t anticipated.

“This is bad,” Alex thought, his mind racing. His hands reached for the water bottle, but even the act of drinking betrayed his inner turmoil. As the middle game unfolded, Ronald's pieces dominated the board. The center belonged to White, and Alex’s pieces—especially his knights, the ones he prided himself on—felt trapped, suffocated.

“Who is this guy?” Alex's thoughts turned to Ronald, whose steady, unyielding gaze only deepened Alex’s sense of helplessness. Behind him, Alex could feel the growing tension from his teammates. They sensed it too—the unraveling of their captain.

The game spiraled towards the endgame, and with each move, Ronald’s grip tightened. 29.Bh6, 30.c3—the relentless attacks came like waves crashing against Alex’s faltering defenses. His knights were immobilized, his once proud strategy in ruins. Ronald’s pieces seemed alive, storming through Alex's lines, tearing apart any hope of salvation.

“How did it come to this…” Alex muttered under his breath as he watched Ronald’s queen advance, delivering a final series of checks. It was over. Defeated and demoralized, Alex shook Ronald’s hand, whispered a quiet "thank you," and quickly left the stage, disappearing into the bathroom to hide his frustration.

As Alex’s retreating figure disappeared from view, a sense of dread crept into Sophia’s chest. Watching the North College players, something felt... wrong. Next to her, Reinhart the Chihuahua gave her leg a nudge and whispered, “Sophia, none of their players are human.”

“What?” Sophia blinked, startled, looking down at the Chihuahua’s serious eyes.

“I’m telling you,” Reinhart continued, his voice low, “that Ronald, all of them—they aren’t just human. There’s something off. I can smell it.”

Sophia’s gaze snapped back to the North College team. A strange feeling tightened in her chest. Their movements, their calm detachment—it all felt alien, otherworldly.

“What… is going on?” Anxiety and confusion swirled within her as she tried to grasp the impossible. Something far more dangerous than a chess match was at play here.

image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]

41) CHESS COMPETITION: THE OVERWHELMING NORTH COLLEGE PLAYERS

The door to the waiting room creaked shut, the tension thick in the air as the second match approached. Once again, Ronald, the enigmatic representative from North College, sat at the chessboard, his face devoid of any emotion. His eyes, cold and detached, seemed to peer straight through the pieces in front of him. Across from him, Ethan, a third-year from South College, took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves as he prepared for battle.

The signal to start the match rang out, and Ronald, without a hint of hesitation, made his first move. Each of his motions were smooth, precise, almost mechanical, as if every possible outcome had already played out in his mind. Ethan responded cautiously, pushing his central pawns forward, but it was clear from the start—Ronald wasn’t leaving any gaps in his defense. He was playing with an eerie calm, as though he were in complete control from the very beginning.

In the South College waiting room, Sophia watched the game unfold on the monitor, her brow furrowed in concern. "There’s no way…" she muttered under her breath, seeing Ethan’s position slowly deteriorate.

Reinhart, sitting at her feet, wagged his tail but looked up at her with serious eyes. "That Ronald guy has no emotions. Normally, someone would show at least a flicker of reaction when under attack."

Ethan’s forehead glistened with sweat as he contemplated his next move, but Ronald’s relentless attacks showed no sign of slowing. Piece by piece, Ethan’s defenses were stripped away. His queen was forced into a corner, and it was only a matter of time before Ronald delivered the final blow.

"Checkmate," Ronald’s voice rang out, devoid of any triumph or satisfaction. Ethan’s head lowered in defeat, his regret palpable.

"Winner, Ronald!" The match supervisor’s voice cut through the quiet tension, and a scattered applause arose from the North College side. Yet, even this applause was oddly hollow, devoid of any real excitement. It was as if they expected nothing less than total victory. Ronald stood, expression unchanged, and returned to the waiting room without so much as a glance at his defeated opponent.

In South College’s waiting room, the air was thick with anxiety. As Ethan returned, his head hanging low, the weight of his loss seemed to settle over the entire team. Sophia glanced at him, her heart sinking, knowing that Rebecca was next.

"It’s Rebecca’s turn now," Reinhart said, a hint of worry in his voice. "She’s strong, but Ronald… something’s not right with him."

"I know," Sophia responded, her voice tense. "But why are they all like this? Why are they so emotionless?"

Reinhart snorted softly. "I’ve been telling you—they’re not normal. Whatever they are, they aren’t just human."

The third match began, and Rebecca, known for her calm demeanor and strategic mind, faced Ronald at the board. She stood tall, confident, but as the game progressed, it became clear that Ronald’s otherworldly precision wasn’t something even she was prepared for. With each move, he dominated the board, suffocating Rebecca’s pieces with a quiet intensity that bordered on unsettling.

In the North College waiting room, there was no chatter, no signs of nerves or anticipation. Every player sat in complete silence, eyes fixed on the monitor, their expressions as flat as Ronald’s.

"How can they be so calm?" Sophia whispered, watching them from the monitor in her waiting room.

"It’s like they’re under a spell," Reinhart said quietly, his tail twitching. "No one should be that controlled."

On the board, Rebecca’s defenses finally gave way under the weight of Ronald’s relentless attacks. His final move was delivered with the same cold, calculated precision.

"Checkmate," his voice echoed, as lifeless as ever. Rebecca stared at the board, defeated, before bowing her head in resignation.

"Winner, Ronald!" The match supervisor declared once more, and the same perfunctory applause sounded from the North College side.

In the South College waiting room, the mood was bleak. The silence was stifling. Next up… it was Sophia’s turn.

image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

42) CHESS COMPETITION: STRATEGY MEETING WITH ALEX IN THE WAITING ROOM

The door to the waiting room creaked open, revealing Alex slumped in the corner, his head down, looking completely drained. His shoulders sagged, the weight of defeat heavy in his eyes. He looked utterly worn out, as if the fight had already been drained from him.

"Alex, are you okay?" Sophia’s voice was soft, but her concern was evident.

With a heavy sigh, Alex slowly lifted his head. His voice, when he spoke, was shaky.

"Sophia... I was watching Ronald play. It's like he’s reading our minds, like he’s using some kind of magic. I don’t think we can win… not like this."

Sophia frowned, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Reading minds? Can that even be done? Magic…?"

"I don’t know," Alex muttered, running a hand through his hair. "But the moment I looked into his eyes, it was like he could see right through me. Every move I made, he was already ten steps ahead. It's like trying to fight in the dark."

"Then maybe the answer isn’t in our moves," Sophia said quietly. "Maybe we need to control our minds."

Alex stared at her, his mouth open in surprise. "Control our minds? That's impossible. I tried staying calm, I tried focusing, but the more I fought, the more tangled my thoughts became. It was chaos."

Sophia bit her lip, deep in thought, but Alex spoke again, a flicker of hope in his voice.

"There might be one way, though. If I were to give you any advice, it would be to use the Réti Opening."

"The Réti Opening?" Sophia asked, tilting her head.

Alex nodded, his voice gaining strength as he explained. "Yes, it’s a strategy that starts with 1.Nf3. It doesn’t immediately take the center but controls the game from the sides. It's flexible, adaptable, and avoids direct confrontations. It's the kind of strategy that suits your mathematical mind."

"But... isn’t it complicated?" Sophia asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

"It is," Alex admitted. "But you can handle it. It’s not about guaranteeing a win; it’s about playing calmly, assessing the situation, and calculating each move."

Sophia fell silent, Alex’s words swirling in her head. She felt a mixture of anxiety and determination, the weight of the upcoming battle pressing down on her.

At that moment, a small voice broke through the quiet tension.

"Hey, don’t you think the opponent is using magic after all?" Reinhart, the Chihuahua, snorted, his little tail wagging with irritation.

Sophia blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Reinhart looked up at her seriously. "I’m telling you, Ronald and the others from North College aren’t ordinary humans. Something’s off. If they’re using magic, then you should be able to fight back, Sophie. You’ve got witch’s blood running through you, remember?"

"Witch’s blood?" Sophia stared at him, shocked. "How do you know that?"

Reinhart gave a little huff, as if the answer were obvious. "I’ve been around since before your mother was born, thanks to your grandmother’s magic."

Sophia was speechless, her mind reeling. She had never heard of such a thing. Her grandmother's magic? It didn’t make sense. Questions flooded her mind.

"I was left behind by your grandmother to protect you," Reinhart continued calmly. "You have the power to control mist, like the witches of your clan."

Sophia felt something stir deep within her. She didn’t fully understand it, but there was a quiet tremor, a power waking up inside her. She didn’t know how it would change things, but she could feel it.

"Alright," she finally said, standing up with newfound resolve. "I’ll use the Réti Opening. And I’ll face Ronald with the power inside me."

Alex looked at her in surprise but nodded. "You can do this, Sophia. Believe in your power."

Sophia took a deep breath, reaching down to pat Reinhart’s head. "Let’s go, Reinhart. If I’m going to win, I need to believe in myself first."

Reinhart barked enthusiastically, "That’s the spirit! Seize victory with your power!"

Alex, watching them interact, tilted his head in confusion. All he could hear was Reinhart’s barking.

"What’s he saying?" Alex asked, curious.

Sophia smiled, hesitating for a moment. "Oh, nothing. Reinhart’s just cheering for us too."

Alex nodded, though still puzzled. "Right. Well, considering the situation, a bit of magic would be nice. Ronald’s too strong. It’s like all the players from North College are... different."

Sophia’s smile faded slightly as she continued petting Reinhart. Alex couldn’t hear Reinhart’s words. Maybe... there really was something different about her, something she was only now beginning to realize.

"Woof woof!" Reinhart barked again, as if to confirm his support.

"See? He’s cheering us on," Sophia said with a grin.

"I see..." Alex smiled weakly. "It’s good to have someone so loyal by your side. Even if I don’t quite understand dogs."

Sophia laughed softly. "It’s okay, Alex. I’ll do my best. That’s all I can do."

Alex met her gaze, seeing the determination and quiet strength in her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of hope rise within him.

"Alright, Sophia. I’m counting on you."

image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]

43) CHESS COMPETITION: RÉTI OPENING

As Sophia settled into her chair, a quiet determination simmered inside her. Across the chessboard, Ronald sat, cold and unblinking, like a marble statue. The tension between them was palpable, thickening the air in the room. Yet, as Sophia gazed at the pieces before her, she felt a curious calm. It was as if a soft warmth had begun to rise within her, fueling her thoughts, sharpening her focus. This, she knew, was the same feeling she experienced when solving complex equations or deciphering ancient runes—a state of pure concentration. Today’s match was not just a game. It was a battle.

She took a sip of tea, letting the warmth seep into her, soothing her nerves. With a quiet, resolute breath, she made her first move—1. Nf3, the Réti Opening. It was a subtle, flexible strategy, allowing her to control the game from the sidelines, leaving Ronald guessing. Her pieces moved naturally, each shift of a pawn or knight a part of a carefully woven plan.

Ronald, unfazed, responded with precision, countering with the Sicilian Inversion. His moves were quick and efficient, as though he had already mapped out the game in his mind. His face remained expressionless, his eyes fixed on the board. The game progressed slowly, the two players exchanging pieces with the meticulousness of a surgeon. But the weight of Ronald’s gaze never lifted from Sophia. She could feel it pressing against her, as cold and unrelenting as winter wind.

The minutes ticked by, each move building the tension until Sophia could almost hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her strategy was unfolding, but Ronald’s counterattacks were relentless. She needed to pause. “Excuse me, I need a short break,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Luna, sensing her friend's strain, approached with a small piece of chocolate, the kind she always brought for such moments. “Here, eat this,” she said with a comforting smile.

Sophia took a bite, letting the sweet richness flood her senses. Almost immediately, the fog in her mind began to clear. “Ah, that’s better,” she murmured, a faint smile touching her lips. She took a deep breath and returned her focus to the board, her mind now sharper than ever.

The game was heating up. Ronald’s pieces pushed forward like a relentless tide, but Sophia remained calm, her thoughts quickening as she analyzed each possible move. The board was a battlefield, and she knew every step mattered.

Then, the moment came. Move 37: Qxf7+. The decisive blow. The move broke through Ronald’s defenses like a sword through armor. Sophia watched him carefully, waiting for his reaction, but what she saw surprised her. For the first time in the match, Ronald’s expression changed. His eyes flickered with confusion, as though he were seeing something he couldn’t understand. It was as if a mist had descended over him, clouding his vision.

He blinked, once, twice, but the fog remained. His gaze shifted, unfocused, and Sophia could almost feel him struggling to find her through the haze. She remained still, her eyes steady on the board, as Ronald's composure began to crack.

And then, it was over. Ronald looked down at the pieces, his expression blank, before slowly raising his head to meet Sophia’s gaze. Defeat hung in the air between them like a heavy curtain. Quietly, he bowed his head, acknowledging the inevitable. The referee’s voice cut through the silence: “Winner, Sophia Weiss.”

Cheers erupted from the South College side. The students leapt to their feet, their applause echoing through the hall. Luna grinned from ear to ear, rushing over to pat Sophia’s shoulder. “See? The chocolate worked, didn’t it?”

Sophia chuckled softly. “Yeah, I think it did,” she said, still catching her breath. At her feet, Reinhart wagged his tail furiously, his small body practically vibrating with joy. His silent message of “Well done, Sophia!” was clear in every wag and glance.

As Ronald left the stage, his figure seemed to shrink under the weight of his loss, but Sophia’s focus was no longer on him. She felt the warmth of the victory settling over her, not just in the applause but in the quiet satisfaction of knowing she had faced the challenge head-on and won.

Back in the waiting room, Alex stood up as soon as she entered, his eyes bright with excitement. “Sophia, that was brilliant! You did it!” His voice was full of pride, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a boyish grin.

Sophia smiled, though modestly. “It wasn’t just me,” she said, glancing over at Luna. “I had a little help.”

Luna laughed, holding up her hands. “What can I say? It’s the éclairs! They’re your secret weapon.”

The waiting room table was covered in snacks and drinks, and Alex raised an eyebrow at the sight. “I had no idea éclairs could be so powerful,” he said, half-joking, half-serious. “Maybe we should start stocking them for all our matches!”

Sophia laughed, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Honestly, without them, I might not have made it through,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“Well, if that’s what it takes, we’ll make sure you’re never without them,” Alex said with a grin, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.

As the room filled with laughter, Sophia realized that today’s victory wasn’t just about winning a game. It was about trusting herself, believing in her abilities—and maybe, just maybe, appreciating the small things that helped her along the way.