(Part 6)
Alan scanned his surroundings, evaluating the area. "The walls are high but not too high to stop a six," he mused, "With only three balls to spare, I can't afford to risk hitting them high. Besides, I don't know how he'll bowl yet. Better to counter whatever comes my way through the ground. Plus, judging by how far back he's gone, he's definitely a pacer."
Meanwhile, Tristan stepped back with deliberate ease, the ball held lightly near his lips. His steel-blue eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark as he murmured, "
As the words slipped free a wide grin spread across his face, and the ball began to shimmer faintly. Within seconds, the glow intensified, turning it into a radiant sphere of golden light. Then, just as suddenly, it vanished from his hand. As Tristan turned around, ready for his run-up, he called out, "Ready?"
Alan tapped his bat once in acknowledgment.
Without waiting further, Tristan began his approach, his strides measured and smooth.
Alan narrowed his eyes, focusing intently on Tristan's hand. But then, his gaze widened. Tristan's fingers appeared to grasp something, yet the ball was nowhere in sight. "Where's the ball?" Alan's thoughts raced as he tapped his bat nervously.
Tristan smirked, stepping onto the popping crease and releasing the invisible ball from his grip. Just as he whispered, "Tennis," the ball shimmered faintly green and materialized mid-flight.
Alan's eyes locked onto it too late, the ball was already darting towards his shoulder. His body froze, stunned, unable to react.
A moment later, the ball thudded into the wall behind him, rolling back softly. Alan stared at it, baffled. "A cock ball... bounced this much? And I couldn't even see it coming?" His mind struggled to piece it together.
Tristan casually strolled forward, picking up the ball. "Ah, sorry. Did I startle you? Shall we count this one as a wide?" His tone sounded apologetic, but the sharp glint in his eyes held a different story.
Alan clicked his tongue, turning away, "Nope. It was below my shoulder, so it wasn't wide. And for the record, you didn't startle me; you bowled well."
"I see," Tristan replied with a grin, retreating for his next delivery.
Alan's grip tightened on his bat as he thought, "To use an ability on the very first ball… he's clearly not messing around. And if that's the case…" Then, stepping forward, Alan murmured, "Come forth… Silver Lightning Eclipse!" A sudden burst of silver thunder enveloped him and the chair, forming a protective barrier that crackled with electricity.
Tristan paused, raising a brow as he took in the scene, intrigued yet excited. "I knew it! I knew you were different," he whispered before continuing his run-up. Approaching the crease, he released another invisible ball, murmuring, "
This time, the ball shimmered faint grey as it appeared in Alan's vision. Its pace reduced, but its movement aggressive. The ball seemed to be pulled closer to Alan by the magnetic force of the Silver Lightning Eclipse.
Alan adjusted swiftly, countering it with a defensive stroke that left the ball stationary at his feet. Alan's eyes narrowed. "That was heavier… It's as if the ball is changing, but how?" His mind churned, trying to make sense of it.
Meanwhile, Tristan retrieved the ball with a sly smile, preparing for the third delivery. As he ran across, and stepped on the crease, he whispered something under his breath, and the ball this time shimmered orange, curving outward like a classic outswinger.
Alan quickly read the delivery, stepping forward to strike it firmly towards the ground. But the moment the ball connected with his bat, the impact felt hollow, as though the ball had no weight. In an instant, it rocketed past Tristan's ear, missing him by mere inches, and smashed into the iron chain fence with a thunderous crash, leaving a visible dent.
"Huh?!" Alan gasped, staring in disbelief.
Tristan stood frozen for a moment before letting out a low whistle, rubbing his ear and turning to look at the damage. His laughter erupted next, "Pft! Haha! Haha!" loud and uncontrollable, as he clutched his stomach.
Alan stepped forward, his face a mixture of concern and incredulity. "A-are you alright? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…" he began but Tristan waved a dismissive hand, his laughter unrelenting.
Alan's brow immediately twitched as mild annoyance bubbled up. "It's your fault in the first place," he muttered under his breath, turning away, "What in the world are you doing with the ball anyway? Forget it… It should've hit that pretty face of yours instead." He stomped back to the crease, still fuming.
Tristan wiped away his tears as he finally caught his breath. "Oh, Lord…" he exhaled, turning to observe Alan, who was now adjusting his stance, his gaze contemplative, his feet scraping against the crease.
"He's stubborn, alright," Tristan murmured to himself, "But I want to see if he can overcome it. Let's see what you've got, Alan." A glint of intrigue shone in his eyes as he stepped forward for the next ball.
"This is it," Alan thought, as the Silver Lightning Eclipse dissolved into a fading spark, "I've had enough of being played around. Time to turn the tides." A confident grin spread across his face.
For the fourth ball of the over, Tristan delivered a sharp-paced delivery aimed at the right of the chair.
Alan's eyes glinted as he whispered, "Talent Impersonation… Joker Cage."
In an instant, the surroundings shifted. An illusory, consolidated circus room enveloped Alan and Tristan and the pitch.
Alan's voice echoed softly, "Slow down."
The ball's blistering speed immediately reduced to a crawl, revealing the white cock ball now surrounded by a faint brown glow. "
A different color this time," Alan noted, his mind analyzing every detail.
As the ball bounced with minimal swing, Alan timed his shot perfectly, standing straight to execute a precise cover drive. "It wasn't too light or too heavy either," Alan reflected, his movements fluid, "By slowing its speed, I could read the delivery and time it just right." His gaze soon shifting to Tristan, who looked visibly stunned, his wide eyes darting around the circus room, admiration evident.
"Wow…" Tristan muttered, still looking around the surreal space, "I really don't know where I am. What… What did you just do?"
Alan gave a casual shrug, his tone nonchalant, "I don't know. It's not my move. I just copied it from someone else."
Tristan's expression sharpened, his hand resting thoughtfully under his chin. "Copied, huh…" he murmured, his intrigue deepening. As the illusion of the Joker Cage dissolved, Tristan walked forward to retrieve the ball, his mind clearly racing.
The fifth ball of the over was once again countered by Alan with a decisive pull shot, aided by the Joker Cage. As the ball vanished and rolled to a stop behind Tristan, Alan smirked, "Blind spot: Instantaneous Movement."
Tristan casually turned around and picked it up, tossing it into the air repeatedly with a satisfied grin. "Not bad. You really managed to counter it," he remarked.
Alan smirked, his confidence growing. "It's a creative move, I'll give you that. Changing the 'type' of the ball mid-delivery. I've never faced anything like it before. It doesn't just mess with a batsman's timing or precision; it puts them under immense pressure to adapt on the spot."
Tristan nodded, his expression sharp. "Exactly. But your Joker Cage… it slows my deliveries, giving you the ability to read and categorize them. It's not just about slowing them down either you've found a way to control my pace deliveries entirely within that confined space. You can order them however you want." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And your Silver Lightning Eclipse… it's more than just a barrier. It senses any delivery from any direction, giving you an edge to return the ball no matter what. Aren't I right?" he finished confidently, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Alan, though momentarily caught off guard by Tristan's sharp analysis, quickly masked his surprise, "Not bad," he admitted tersely.
"
"Hey," Alan called, causing Tristan to halt mid-stride and glance over his shoulder. "I didn't understand what you just said." he shrugged, tapping his bat on the crease.
Tristan blinked before breaking into a heartened giggle, "Really? I don't believe it."
Alan exhaled, watching Tristan retreat with a mix of irritation. Tapping his bat again, he muttered to himself, "He's clever. Too clever, I must admit." "Despite knowing about my abilities and how they work, there's no sign of pressure or confusion in him. He's way too calm. Just who is this boy?" Alan wondered, staring ahead, "For someone like him to rival players from the PSL... could he be gearing up for the World Cup this year?"