Chapter 38: Uncle!
Raghav walked home. The sun was a hot, heavy blanket on his neck.
His mind was a locked room, echoing with Coach Sarma's final, terrifying words: "I want you to break them, son."
In his left hand, the small, red rubber ball was already becoming an extension of his body.
Squeeze.
A sharp, radiating burn, a signal of dormant muscles waking in agony.
Release.
He flexed his pale, thin fingers, the skin slick with sweat.
Squeeze.
He looked at the arm. It was a pathetic, weak thing. He had less than twenty-four hours to turn it from a patient's limb into a bowler's weapon.
'System,' he thought, his steps not faltering. 'Status.'
[Host: Raghav Roi]
[Age: 12]
[Stamina: 17]
[Strength: 13.5]
[Batting Technique: 12]
[Bowling Skill: 10]
...
[System Points (SP): 300]
Three hundred points. He could, in theory, buy +3.0 Strength for 300 SP. It was a tempting, immediate fix.
But the 42-year-old mind knew it was a fool's move. It was a shortcut.
