Chapter 18: Day Off
Raghav woke up before the 5 AM alarm, his body thrumming with a mixture of agony and adrenaline.
Every muscle, from his forearms to his thighs, ached from the 46-run stand. It was a good pain. It was the pain of victory.
He lay in the pre-dawn darkness of his small room in Jalukbari, a victorious smile on his 12-year-old face.
Then, the cold blue light of the system interface filled his vision.
[Quest: Part 2: First Match Victory (Completed)]
[Rewards: +0.3 Stamina, +0.2 Strength, 25 SP.]
[Host Stats Updated:]
[Host: Raghav Roi]
[Age: 12]
[Stamina: 17.3]
[Strength: 13.2]
[Batting Technique: 14]
[Bowling Skill: 5]
[Fielding: 8]
[Cricket IQ: 27]
[System Points (SP): 40]
=============[
The fractional increases were a sober reminder. The system's "Novice Period" was over.
The 40 SP he now possessed felt like a decent haul, until his mind commanded, 'System Store.'
The menu appeared, and the optimism of his victory evaporated, replaced by a cold, harsh reality.
[SYSTEM STORE]
[Stat Points:]
[Stamina (+1 Point) - 100 SP]
[Strength (+1 Point) - 100 SP]
[Batting Technique (+1 Point) - 200 SP]
[Bowling Skill (+1 Point) - 200 SP]
[Fielding (+1 Point) - 150 SP]
[Lottery:]
[Spin the Wheel: (Spin for a random skill, item, or stat reward) - 50 SP]
Raghav felt a metaphorical punch to the gut. His 40 SP were practically worthless.
He couldn't afford a single purchase, not even the 50 SP Lottery, which his mature mind instantly identified as a "sucker's bet." The days of buying a Batting point for 20 SP were gone.
'The system isn't a cheat code,' he thought, sitting up in his bed, the muscle soreness suddenly feeling more profound.
'It's not a shortcut. It's just... a guide. A taskmaster.'
He then reviewed the other notification.
[Age-Based Stat Limitation: 25].
He was already at 17.3 Stamina and 14 Batting. He was over halfway to his entire physical limit for the year.
Progress from now on wouldn't be in leaps; it would be in painful, fractional increments. The path to a 90+ "World Class" stat, to becoming the 'God of Cricket', was a marathon that would take years, not months.
And his greatest weakness was glaring at him: Fielding: 8.
It was pathetic and he knew it that he'd been slow in the Mid-On position, his throws back to the keeper were weak, looping arcs.
The only reason DPS hadn't taken more runs off him was because they were also just a school team. A better team would have exploited him, turning easy singles into twos, and twos into threes.
'Coach Sarma definitely noticed,' Raghav thought, swinging his legs out of bed.
'I can't just be a wall who can't move. I have to fix this.'
____________________________________
He entered the living room, the smells of breakfast filling the small house. His mother, Nirmala, was in the kitchen, and the sound of her humming was brighter than usual.
Priya, his sister, was already hunched over her physics textbook.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Man-of-the-Match," she said, not looking up, her voice laced with its usual teasing.
"Don't let it get to your head. You have a mathematics unit test on Friday. I hope you've been studying, or that 46 not out won't save you from Papa."
"I have," Raghav said, his voice quiet. He knew she was right.
His mother came out, placing a hot aloo paratha on his plate, this one glistening with an extra layer of ghee. Her smile was all the reward he needed.
"Eat," she said, her eyes shining with pride. "You need your strength."
His father, Umesh, sat at the head of the table, sipping his tea and methodically reading the Assam Tribune.
He didn't say anything for several minutes. The only sounds were the scrape of cutlery and the rustle of the newspaper.
Finally, Umesh folded the paper, set it down, and pushed it across the table to Raghav.
"Page 8," he said. "Local sports."
Raghav's heart jumped. He pulled the paper over. There, in a small, two-paragraph column at the bottom, was a brief summary: "...a surprise victory for the local school, who chased down DPS's 124. The win was anchored by a resilient, unbeaten 46 from Class 8 student Raghav Roi, who held his nerve under pressure..."
His name was print in the newspaper.
Raghav looked up. His father was watching him, his expression not of praise, but of his usual, deep-seated caution.
"One match is a good start," Umesh said, his voice level.
"It shows your hard work is paying off. But do not let this distract you from what is important."
He tapped Priya's textbook, then pointed to Raghav. "Your studies. Your exams. Your future. Cricket... it is still just a game."
"I understand, Papa," Raghav said, the knot of pressure tightening in his chest. He had to succeed at both. Failure in one would mean the end of the other.
That afternoon, there was no rest day. The team, still buzzing from the win, was brought crashing back to earth by Coach Sarma's whistle.
"One win means NOTHING!" he roared, pacing in front of them.
"You think you're champions? You were sloppy! You were lazy! Our fielding was a DISGRACE! The DPS batsmen took at least fifteen runs they shouldn't have because you were ambling around like you were at a picnic!"
His eyes scanned the group and landed, with terrifying precision, on Raghav.
"Roi!"
"Yes, Coach!" Raghav snapped to attention.
"Your bat saved us, but your arm cost us!... My grandmother throws harder than you! Your throws from the in-field was pathetic! ....A U-10 girl's team would have run three on you every time! You are a liability on the field! "
"Do you understand me?"
The praise from the morning paper, his mother's smile... it all vanished, replaced by the stinging, public truth.
"Yes, Coach!"
"Good! Because you're all going to pay for it.....EVERYONE..Laps! Twenty laps! Now!"
The team groaned and began to run.
Raghav, with his Stamina: 17.3, settled into an easy rhythm, but his mind was racing. 'He's right. He's absolutely right. I have to fix it. I can't be a liability.'
As he ran, he focused his thoughts. 'System! I need a quest to fix my fielding.'
As he completed his first lap, the familiar Ding chimed in his mind.
Ding~
[Host has recognized a critical weakness and has been externally motivated by a mentor.]
[New quest available: Side Quest: Fielding Foundation]
[Objective: The path to greatness is built on fundamentals. You cannot be a God of Cricket if you are a liability on the field. Complete the following drills:]
[1. Successfully catch 100 high balls (simulating Deep Field catches).]
[2. Successfully catch 100 hard, flat balls (simulating Inner Circle catches).]
[3. Successfully hit the stumps 50 times with a direct throw from 30 yards (the Inner Circle boundary).]
[Time Limit: 1 week.]
[Reward: +0.5 Fielding, +0.2 Strength, 15 SP]
'A week,' Raghav thought, his pace not faltering. 'That's not much time.'
After the laps, as the rest of the team, breathing heavily, went to the nets, Raghav jogging over to Coach Sarma.
"Sir?"
Sarma, clipboard in hand, turned. "What is it, Roi?"
"Sir, you're right. My fielding is weak. My throws are weak. Permission to do extra fielding drills instead of batting practice today?"
Sarma's eyebrows shot up. He stared at Raghav for a long, silent moment. This, he had not expected. The boy who had just won them a match, the only batsman who looked competent, was asking to skip the "fun" part to work on his biggest weakness.
"Permission granted," Sarma said, a rare flicker of approval in his eyes.
"Gourav!"
Gourav, the lanky senior fast bowler, jogged over. "Yes, Coach?"
"Take this bat." Sarma pointed to Raghav. "Hit catches for Roi for the next thirty minutes. High ones. Flat ones. Make his hands sting. I want to see effort."
Gourav, who now looked at Raghav with a grudging respect, broke into a wide grin. He was suddenly very excited by the prospect of peppering the team's new star.
"Yes, Coach!"
For the next half-hour, Raghav was in his own personal hell. His Fielding: 8 stat was on full, painful display.
"High ball!" Gourav would yell, sending a ball soaring into the afternoon sky, a tiny white dot against the blue.
Raghav, his IQ: 27 calculating the trajectory, ran. But his legs were slow. He misjudged the first one completely, the ball landing ten feet behind him with a thud.
"Sloppy, Roi!" Sarma yelled from the nets.
"Again!" Gourav smashed another.
Raghav ran, got under it... but his hands were "hard." The ball hit his palms and popped out.
[Quest Progress: High Catches 1/100]
"Again!"
His hands were already red and stinging. He fumbled. He dropped. But he kept running, his Stamina: 17.3 ensuring he didn't tire.
Then came the flat catches. Gourav stood 20 yards away, hitting hard Drives and Cut Shots straight at him.
THWACK!
The first one was too fast. Raghav barely got a hand on it, deflecting it off his shin. Pain shot up his leg.
THWACK!
The second he managed to get his body behind, blocking it with his chest.
THWACK!
The third one, he finally held. His hands screamed in protest.
[Quest Progress: Flat Catches 6/100]
He was covered in dirt and sweat, his hands bright red and throbbing, when Coach Sarma finally blew his whistle.
"Alright, bring it in! Listen up!"
The team, tired from the nets, gathered around.
"Practice is over. Now, for the bad news." The coach's face was grim.
"The Zonal committee has released the schedule for the quarter-finals. We're playing in four days. Tuesday."
He paused, letting the tension build.
"Our opponent... is St. Louis School."
A collective, audible groan went through the entire team. Even Vikram, the captain, looked pale.
"SLS?" Gourav said, his voice cracking. "Coach, they're the zonal favorites! They won the final last year!"
"Their captain, Ajay Varma, is on the district U-14 team," another senior added, his voice shaking.
"And their fast bowler... Thomas. He's a demon. I heard he's already bowling over 40 km/h."
To a group of 12 and 13-year-olds, that was the stuff of nightmares. A 40 km/h bowler wasn't just fast; he was dangerous.
Coach Sarma let the fear hang in the air for a moment before cutting through it.
"They are good. They are arrogant. And they are expecting to walk all over us. They won't be expecting a fight."
He turned and his eyes locked onto Raghav, who was standing at the back, nursing his stinging hands.
"Roi."
"Yes, Coach."
"Their bowler, Thomas, is fast. Faster than anyone you've ever faced. He's not just going to try and get you out. He's going to try and scare you. He's going to try and hurt you."
The coach walked right up to him, his voice dropping.
"I don't care if you score one run or fifty. Your job is the same as before. You are the wall. You will stand there, you will take the hits, and you will not get out. Do you understand me?"
Raghav, his Batting: 14 feeling hopelessly small against a 40 km/h bowler, just nodded. His mind was clear.
"Yes, Coach. I understand."
As the team dispersed, shaken and quiet, Raghav stayed behind. He picked up the bucket of balls. He walked 30 yards away from a single stump.
[Quest Progress: Direct Hits 0/50].
He took his stance, his arm aching, his hands on fire and he threw.
The ball sailed five feet wide.
He sighed, walking to retrieve it and today pratice was real, and the clock was ticking,yet his progress is only little.
(To be Continued)