How is this possible?

Wang Chao's return shot seemed ordinary, but its angle and placement were extremely subtle, landing precisely in Zhao Ge's most awkward zone, preventing him from adding power.

If he tried to force power, he would most likely make an unforced error.

But if he didn't add power, the only option was to rely on technical adjustments and force power.

As a result, Zhao Ge appeared to turn into a brute, unleashing power but consistently failing to finish off his opponent.

The score began to climb unnaturally, from 7-4 all the way to 11-4, with Wang Chao winning the first game.

Don't forget, Wang Chao had been trailing 1-4. This meant he had actually scored 10 consecutive points.

After the final point, Wang Chao sat down on the floor without a word, sprawled out and panting, "Let me rest for a bit."

This time, Wang Bin didn't rush him or say anything like "You'll lose points." He looked at Wang Chao with a complex expression.

He had been a player himself, attending a sports school in his youth and being selected through the ranks. At his peak, he had even made it onto the provincial team's main roster. Unfortunately, he never got to see the national team's training base. He retired and became a coach when he got older.

In a sense, he was a legitimate, professionally trained table tennis player.

Therefore, his fundamentals and basic knowledge were very solid, and he had always looked down on unconventional styles, the so-called "folk masters."

In his opinion, Wang Chao's playstyle was a typical unconventional style, and Wang Chao's stamina would be a fatal flaw on his professional path.

He had always believed that people like that were not qualified to play professionally.

But at this moment, he was somewhat dazed because Wang Chao had won a match he thought was absolutely impossible to win.

Winning solely through anticipating returns, restricting the opponent with placement, and engaging in rallies through defense – how was this possible?

Wang Bin couldn't understand.

He had never seen a player like this before.

He felt his mind was a bit muddled because he couldn't define Wang Chao.

On the court, the second game began.

Zhao Ge seemed to have learned his lesson. He stopped attacking on serves and instead tried to engage Wang Chao in short-ball exchanges and rallies.

On the first point, both players pushed the ball back and forth, neither able to gain an advantage. Just as Zhao Ge felt an opportunity was coming, Wang Chao suddenly flicked his paddle, changing the ball's direction and sending it to his left side at a wide angle.

He was instinctively stepping forward to his right, preparing to attack, when he suddenly realized the ball had gone to the other side. Despite desperately trying to recover, he couldn't reach the ball.

Wang Chao led 1-0.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Zhao Ge's forehead, not from fatigue, but from anxiety.

The feeling of playing was completely different from watching. He felt like he was facing a turtle in its shell – impossible to kill, impossible to cook, impossible to break. No matter how hard he tried, the opponent just wouldn't die.

And when he relaxed even slightly, the turtle would stealthily poke its head out and bite him...

He clearly felt he was playing smartly, trying short balls, long balls, topspin, backspin, left-side, right-side – he had tried everything. But the opponent's positioning was ridiculously good. No matter how he changed his shots, the opponent could always receive the ball with just a slight adjustment of half a step.

This way, the opponent's stamina wouldn't be significantly depleted, enough to last an entire game.

"How can this be?"

"This isn't logical..."

"Is my play really that clumsy?"

"Could he be cheating?"

Zhao Ge's mind was racing, and his shots became slower. He played with less and less spirit, and eventually, the score settled at 11-3. Wang Chao won the match 2-0 with a significant score.

Even though he scored three points this time, Zhao Ge couldn't feel happy at all. He knew those points were purely due to normal errors during the game, which didn't explain anything.

He retreated dejectedly, sweat all over his head. Although they had only played two games, he felt more exhausted than after a full round robin. His head was buzzing, and he could barely hear the surrounding noise.

It wasn't until a hand gently landed on his shoulder that he slightly regained his senses.

"Don't overthink it, it's not your fault," Zhao Fuqiang's voice sounded in his ear.

Zhao Ge suddenly looked up at his distant uncle.

"This kid's play... is too strange..." Zhao Fuqiang sighed, his voice even lower than before. "Let alone you, even I'm a bit confused... Look at Coach Wang..."

Zhao Ge followed Zhao Fuqiang's gaze and saw that head coach Wang Bin's expression was incredibly complex, seemingly filled with struggle.

"Logically, physical fitness and skill should improve in tandem. After all, both exercising the body and practicing require a lot of time, and practicing itself is also a form of physical exercise..."

Zhao Fuqiang sighed again. "But this kid is truly strange... His skill is far superior to his physical fitness."

Wang Chao rested for ten minutes and then faced Li Mu again.

In fact, Li Mu and Zhao Ge had a roughly even win-loss record in their usual matches, but Wang Bin stubbornly wanted to see how Li Mu would perform against Wang Chao.

Ultimately, he was still somewhat unconvinced.

He didn't want to admit that Wang Chao's unconventional style could defeat a traditional one.

He even less wanted to admit that he had misjudged.

This would overturn his long-held, ingrained understanding of table tennis techniques.

The match began.

Li Mu was a completely different player from Zhao Ge. If Zhao Ge was the spear, passionate and favoring all-out offense, then Li Mu was the shield, skilled in defensive counter-attacks, playing with impeccable precision.

Wang Bin had good judgment. He could see that in the first two games, Wang Chao had borrowed too much power from Zhao Ge's serves. He felt this might be a breakthrough.

Li Mu's serves had always been difficult to borrow power from. He wanted to see how Wang Chao would break through this.

The match was fast-paced, with silver light flashing across the table. Soon, another six balls were played, and the score became 3:3.

Li Mu held the small ball, bouncing it repeatedly on the table, hesitating to serve.

Only when he faced Wang Chao directly did he realize how...

odd this opponent was.

He needed to think clearly about how to serve and plan his subsequent moves to have any chance of scoring during his service turn.

At this moment, head coach Wang Bin subconsciously took a step forward. This distance had actually exceeded the usual safe distance for observing a match and could potentially affect both players.

But it was unintentional. He just wanted to see more clearly, because in these six balls, he had vaguely seen something he could hardly believe.

This Wang Chao...

Had he specifically studied Li Mu's playstyle?

If not, then why did he hit almost every ball in the spots that made Li Mu most uncomfortable?

Li Mu didn't actively exert force, and Wang Chao didn't either.

Li Mu wanted to move Wang Chao left and right, but every return from Wang Chao made it impossible for him to make effective adjustments.

Li Mu wanted to attack, but his ability to initiate attacks was truly inferior to Zhao Ge's. After six balls, he hadn't even managed one decent attack.

Instead, his calculation ability, which coaches had always praised, was completely suppressed by Wang Chao in these six balls.

So, to the spectators, Wang Chao still hadn't moved much on the table, while Li Mu was constantly running back and forth, left and right, with large movements.

He had no choice but to run; if he didn't, Wang Chao would have completely dictated his movements.

Even with all his running, he couldn't save two balls and lost two points.

Another point was directly scored by Wang Chao on his serve.

So Wang Bin discovered another terrifying thing: Wang Chao's serve point conversion rate was astonishingly high.

When playing Zhao Ge just now, over a third of Wang Chao's points came from serves.

And this time, playing Li Mu, he directly scored on his very first serve of the match.

The strange thing was that Wang Chao wasn't serving any difficult balls. Due to insufficient stamina, he wasn't even putting much force into his serves.

"In other words... his serves score points entirely through calculation."

"His returns score points entirely through prediction."

"How is that possible?"