readytorunbook Chapter 910: Do you really think I'm a soft persimmon?
Chapter 910: Do you really think I'm a soft persimmon?
Chapter 910: Do you really think I'm a soft persimmon?
"The power of wrist force explosion is far more than this. I was just playing with you just now, don't take it seriously!"
Michael's voice echoed in the empty tennis court.
With a kind of flamboyant confidence.
Alfonso Solon stood at the other end of the court.
His pupils contracted slightly.
The knuckles of his hands gripping the racket turned white from excessive force.
He stared at the tennis ball that turned into a shadow.
Fine beads of sweat had already appeared on his forehead.
How can this be a normal serve?
The air twists and turns around the ball.
A vortex visible to the naked eye was formed.
The terrifying speed brought by Michael's wrist power explosion.
Even the heart and eyes that Alfonso was so proud of were momentarily delayed.
Boom!
The racket in Michael's hand collided violently with the tennis ball.
There was a dull and powerful sound.
It was like the beating of a war drum.
The tennis ball is like a bullet fired from a gun.
It flew through the air at an astonishing speed.
It seemed to tear the air apart.
Finally it landed precisely within the bounds.
The electronic scoreboard flashed in response.
The words "Michael Bismarck scores, score 30:30" appeared on the screen.
However, Michael did not relax at all.
A burning fighting spirit burned in his eyes.
Like a burning flame.
I saw him throwing the ball high up again.
The body leans back slightly.
The muscle lines bulged in the sun.
Like a taut bowstring.
Then he swung his racket violently.
Use all your strength.
He hit a thunderous smash.
The power of this attack was beyond imagination.
The tennis ball flew away like lightning.
The speed is staggering.
Even close to three times the speed of sound!
It flew rapidly in the air.
Make a sharp sound of breaking through the air.
There was a burst of exclamations in the audience.
The audience in the front row was shocked by the astonishing speed.
Even instinctively raised his hands to cover it.
Afraid of being hit by this "bomb".
Alfonso stood at the other end of the field.
Faced with such a fierce attack.
His breathing suddenly hitched.
He could clearly feel the powerful pressure brought by the tennis ball tearing through the air.
It was like an invisible wave sweeping towards him.
Alfonso's heartbeat quickened rapidly.
His mind was racing.
My mind and eyes were frantically calculating the trajectory and landing point of the tennis ball.
However, despite his strong data processing capabilities.
Faced with this speed beyond common sense.
His prediction still had an error of three frames.
However, at this critical moment.
His instinct as a top player allowed him to react in an instant.
His body seemed to be pushed by an invisible force.
The sneakers under my feet made a harsh sound when they rubbed against the ground.
It was as if he was announcing his determination and speed to the world.
He looked like a cheetah.
It was launched with amazing explosive force.
It rushed towards the predicted landing point like an arrow.
His movements were quick and fluid.
Every step was taken with extreme precision.
It was as if he had already calculated all this.
at the same time.
The racket in his hand drew a graceful arc in the air.
Like a dancing butterfly.
Alfonso's full strength was perfectly mobilized at this moment.
His muscles tensed.
Arms waving.
Concentrate all your strength into this one strike.
Just as the tennis ball was about to hit the ground.
Alfonso swung the racket without hesitation.
boom!
There was a loud bang and the impact was deafening.
It seemed as if the whole world was shaking.
The tennis ball was like an enraged falcon.
Flying out backwards at a tricky angle.
As fast as lightning.
The ball had a strange spin.
After crossing the net, it suddenly accelerated downward.
It's like a magic.
Michael's pupils suddenly contracted.
He obviously didn't expect the change in this ball.
He hurriedly raised his racket to catch it.
However, it was too late.
Tennis is like a ghost.
It brushed past Michael's face.
Slide close to the ground and out of bounds.
The electronic scoreboard sounded again.
A clear and loud voice echoed in the stadium: "Alfonso Solon scored, the score is 40:30."
"Is Yan Huishan?"
Michael shook his numb wrist.
The curve of his mouth did not decrease because of the loss of this goal.
Instead, it reveals a faint sense of self-confidence.
His eyes were fixed on Alfonso.
It's as if you can see through his appearance to his inner thoughts.
"The Yan Huishan that accelerates the descent has been improved again."
Michael's voice was calm and low.
But it carries a sense of oppression that cannot be ignored.
His gaze was like that of a hawk.
Locked tightly on Alfonso.
It seems that he wants to take in every movement and expression of the other person.
He didn't even blink.
As if afraid of missing any key details.
Just like a skilled craftsman, carefully disassembling a complex work of art.
Alfonso felt Michael's piercing gaze.
A thin layer of sweat gradually seeped out of his forehead.
But he didn't back down.
Instead, he looked at Michael without showing any weakness.
He took a deep breath.
Calmed down his slightly rapid breathing.
Then he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
I secretly told myself: "I can't lose!"
Michael watched Alfonso's movements.
The corners of his mouth rose slightly.
He revealed a barely perceptible smile.
He said softly: "Not bad, but it's a pity."
These words were like a sharp sword, piercing Alfonso's heart.
However, Alfonso was not affected by Michael's words.
Instead, his fighting spirit was completely aroused.
In this arena.
The atmosphere between the two became extremely tense.
It seemed as if a storm was coming.
Who wins and who loses is yet to be determined.
But Alfonso had made up his mind.
You must go all out in this match and prove your strength.
Alfonso's action of wiping the sweat off his face suddenly stopped.
Fine drops of water slid down the forearm into the cuffs.
But he was completely unaware.
The noise in the audience seemed to be muted.
The originally deafening shouts and cheers disappeared without a trace at this moment.
The only sound in Alfonso's world was the sound of his own pounding heart.
The sound was like a war drum, beating wildly in his chest.
"After Yan Hui Shan evolved into Fenghuang Hui Shan, the falling speed became faster, which is very similar to your improvement."
Bismarck's voice rang in Alfonso's ears.
It seems like it comes from another world.
His eyes were fixed on Bismarck.
I saw the other person supporting himself with one foot, leaning forward.
The oppressive feeling was like a mountain pressing down on an egg.
It almost went through the net and headed straight for Alfonso.
"But Fuji's Phoenix Flashback doesn't stop there—"
Bismarck suddenly swung his racket and made a feint.
The air hummed.
The sound was like the buzzing of an enraged swarm of bees.
Alfonso's eyes followed Bismarck's movements.
At the moment of hitting the ball, his wrist drew a strange ∞ trajectory like lightning.
"When he hits the ball, he draws a strange ∞-shaped trajectory with his wrist. The rotational force plus the centrifugal effect, the explosive sound waves generated when the ball hits the ground can make the opponent's eardrums hurt!"
Bismarck's voice echoed in Alfonso's ears.
The scene of Fuji using this move seemed to emerge in his mind.
The exploding sound waves were like thunder, causing pain in the eardrums.
Alfonso's pupils contracted dramatically as he heard the description.
He thought of the old battle with Fuji that ended in a draw.
At that time, the other party had not yet mastered such a terrifying technique, but now...
Alfonso felt a strong sense of uneasiness in his heart.
"And this trick."
Bismarck suddenly imitated the gesture of holding a racket with both hands.
His muscles were stretched into perfect arcs in an instant.
Like a taut bowstring, full of power and tension.
"Qilin landed!"
He shouted loudly.
His body rushed forward like an arrow.
At the same time, his right hand waved quickly.
Made an intercepting move.
This moment.
He seemed to see a fatal smash rushing towards him.
And his interception action is to intercept this fatal move.
"Although your one-handed Brown Bear Counterattack is extremely powerful, it requires force dissipation and buffering. However, Fuji's two-handed version can complete the power conversion in just 0.3 seconds, turning your killer move into ammunition delivered to your door!"
His voice echoed in the air.
With a hint of sarcasm and disdain.
The racket collides with the air.
There was a crisp explosion.
The sound was like thunder.
The birds on the distant treetops were startled and flew away with their wings flapping.
Cold sweat beaded Alfonso's forehead.
Sliding down his spine.
It soaked the waistband of his trousers.
Of course he knew how advanced Fuji's skills were.
I also know how big the gap is between myself and the other party.
Doesn't he want to replicate those magical skills?
But every time he tried to break down Budi's movements.
The strange frequency of the opponent's muscle vibrations when hitting the ball will involuntarily emerge in your mind.
That kind of frequency is simply not something that humans can easily master.
It's like a movement trajectory from another world.
It’s confusing.
"As for the White Dragon..."
Bismarck suddenly laughed out loud.
His eyes, beneath his dyed-gold eyelashes, were as sharp as icicles.
He stretched out his hand and drew a parabola in the air.
Then he said: "The rebound of the white whale is just a fancy trick, and the white dragon will make seven irregular changes of direction when falling, and finally drill directly into the ground!"
The words have not yet fallen.
He slammed the racket in his hand heavily to the ground.
There was a loud bang.
Debris from the plastic playground flew up like raindrops.
Alfonso gripped the racket tightly.
His hands were shaking slightly.
His knuckles turned white from the excessive force.
His eyes widened.
Staring intently at Bismarck opposite.
An unprecedented sense of frustration surged in my heart.
Right now.
He finally understood why his improved moves always fell short of the finishing touch.
Those seemingly insignificant gaps.
In reality, it is an unbridgeable gap.
"I understand. It's not that you don't want to improve, but that you simply can't improve!"
Bismarck hefted the racket over his shoulder.
The shadow covered half of his face, making it impossible to see his expression.
His voice was cold and tinged with sarcasm.
"Because Fuji's improved triple counterattack has reached a level of skill that is beyond your reach!"
Bismarck suddenly moved forward.
His body was pressed against the net.
The hot breath hit Alfonso directly in the face.
Alfonso subconsciously took a step back.
But Bismarck's words were like a sharp sword.
It pierced straight into his heart.
"Admit it. In the face of absolute talent, your data flow is nothing but..."
"enough!"
Alfonso suddenly shouted.
interrupted Bismarck.
His emotions exploded in an instant.
He slammed the racket hard against the net post.
There was a loud bang.
The loud noise seemed like the roar from his heart.
The iron wire buzzed.
A flame of unwillingness burned in Alfonso's eyes.
His chest heaved violently.
The veins on his forehead also bulged out of anger.
“If I don’t have enough skills, I will make up for it with speed. If I can’t learn how to change direction, I will create a new trajectory!”
His voice echoed around the stadium.
Full of determination and firmness.
After saying that, Alfonso yanked open the buttons of his sweatshirt at the collar.
The bulging veins on the neck were exposed.
His breathing became rapid.
The whole person exudes an unstoppable aura.
"I will win this game in my own way!"
Alfonso's eyes were sharp.
Staring at Bismarck.
As if to see through him.
As Bismarck slowly bent down and reached out to untie the weight strap around his ankles.
The air in the entire stadium seemed to freeze in an instant.
The originally noisy crowd now became silent.
All eyes were on Bismarck.
It was as if time had stopped flowing.
As the metal buckle was unfastened.
The crisp sound was infinitely amplified in the dead silence.
It was like the prelude to the Grim Reaper drawing his scythe, so creepy.
The sound echoed in the empty venue for a long time.
It seemed to foreshadow a storm was coming.
And on the Turkish team's bench.
Someone covered his mouth unconsciously.
As if trying to stop the exclamation that was about to come out.
However, despite his efforts.
The exclamation still leaked out from between his fingers.
It seemed particularly out of place in this quiet venue.
"Three, two, one!"
Kirihara Akaya's voice was trembling.
His eyes were fixed on Bismarck.
Watch him remove the two heavy lead wrist guards from his ankles.
Then he slammed heavily on the bench.
"Boom!"
The dull sound of impact echoed in the air.
It seemed as if the entire venue was shaking.
The photographer in the front row of the audience was frightened by the sudden loud noise and took a step back.
The camera in his hand also shook violently because of the shock.
Through the viewfinder, he saw that the edge of the wristband had been corroded by sweat and had turned into mottled rust.
This is obviously caused by long-term use and high-intensity load.
"This is impossible……"
Alfonso's throat rolled with difficulty.
His eyes widened.
His face was full of expressions of disbelief.
He thought about the seemingly random returns during the game.
The power that is unleashed every time the racket makes contact with the tennis ball.
Now there are new interpretations.
Those mistakes that he had always thought were simple now seemed not to be so simple.