Dimensional Storekeeper

Chapter 217: Y’all Ever Lose Before Playing?

Chapter 217: Y’all Ever Lose Before Playing?

Ji Yunzhi was already planning to ask for ten cans of Wing Blast if he won. That alone could save him over a week’s worth of back-and-forth trips to the store, which meant more time perfecting his formulas and less time pretending to function as a person.

In short, this tournament was a necessary evil.

If he won, he could go full hermit mode again.

Meanwhile, just a few steps away, things weren’t so cheerful.

Overhead, storm clouds were already forming. If one looked closely, they could almost hear thunder rumbling softly behind the two.

Hua Feixue and Princess Yunlan Qingyi stood side-by-side, staring blankly at the bracket with identical expressions of elegant despair.

Pretty flowers realizing they’d been planted in a battlefield instead of a garden.

Both had drawn monsters.

Hua Feixue was up against Old Tiger Zhao – who might not know what a “technical shot” was, but somehow always ended up pocketing the right ball .

Yunlan Qingyi, meanwhile, had landed none other than Sect Master Jiang Xianwei.

A man who once sank three balls during a game while dramatically reciting a tragic breakup letter – one he very likely wrote himself.

Whether it was real or completely made up, no one knew.

Sect Master Jiang Xianwei simply did things. Sometimes for meaning. Sometimes for mystery.

Sometimes just because it was Tuesday.

However, behind every jest lay a shadow of knowing, a silence deeper than words.

“Ahh.” Hua Feixue murmured.

Princess Yunlan Qingyi glanced at Hua Feixue. “Don’t look at me like that. Miss Hua.”

“If I cry, you’ll cry too, and then we’ll both lose before the match starts.”

“Do we at least get a memorial scene after we lose?”

“Maybe if we both kneel and cry in front of Senior Hao, he’ll pity us and shuffle the bracket a little?” Hua Feixue looked up with sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I can even prepare a speech! Something tragic! Heart-wrenching! Maybe add a puppy!”

Princess Yunlan Qingyi gave her a look that said: Please be serious.

Hua Feixue deflated just a little.

“…But knowing Senior Hao, he’ll just pat our heads, and still tell us to fight with our ’full heart’ or something.”

A pause.

Her shoulders slumped.

“So tragic. So cruel. We’re doomed.”

She placed a hand on her chest, sighing long and loud.

“I haven’t even shown off my genius shots yet…”

Princess Yunlan Qingyi, very quietly, reached out and patted her shoulder. Not in comfort. In shared resignation.

“Goodbye, round one.” Hua Feixue muttered.

“Goodbye, pride.” Yunlan added.

And together, with all the weight of two elegant warriors already mourning their own future defeat, they stared solemnly at the bracket poster.

Away from the crowd, Hao gave everyone a bit of breathing room.

Let them stare. Let them panic. Let them daydream about sweet, glorious victory or sink into despair at their cursed matchups.

He wasn’t being lazy. Just considerate.

It only made sense to give the players time to process who they’d be facing. No one liked being tossed into a match without a moment to adjust, especially when half the people here had probably never played more than five rounds in their life.

It was the logical thing to do. Besides, he was busy.

A screen floated in front of him – having popped up the exact moment the bracket poster appeared on the wall.

The tournament match schedule.

Neat rows. Pairings. Estimated game durations. System-arranged pacing, down to the minute.

Hao squinted slightly.

’This is really randomized, right?’

He didn’t mean to sound suspicious, but seeing Ji Yunzhi’s name lined up with Dou Xinshi… it felt almost too perfect.

[Yes, host. All brackets and match sequences are randomized by approved protocol. No manual bias involved.]

Hao raised a brow.

’You’re telling me that matchup was fate?’

[Whether fate or luck, host, it’s still a better pick than if you had chosen.]

“…”

Here it comes. The system’s weekly roast.

Unprovoked. Precise. Unnecessary.

…Or was it?

He decided not to respond. Better to take the L quietly than give the system a reason to escalate.

Because if he replied now, it would absolutely follow up with three more sarcastic remarks and a PowerPoint presentation on his past decision-making flaws.

Hao watched the crowd settle. Most had found seats or leaned against walls, talking quietly with their companions while eyeing the bracket like it was a divine scripture.

The initial buzz had died down. Energy simmered.

Now was a good time.

He shifted his weight. Slightly awkward.

…Where was he even supposed to announce this?

Did he just shout from a corner? Should he wave his hand? Bang a spoon on a cup?

No one told him how to do these things.

Still.

He was the host.

So, Hao locked in.

He walked toward the upper corner of the room. No particular position. Just wherever felt right.

But the moment he stopped and turned to face the crowd, the ground beneath him suddenly shifted – lifting him half a meter off the floor.

Just enough to stand out.

Cool enough to count.

Hao cleared his throat and raised one hand lazily.

“Alright – listen up.”

His voice reverberated through the entire room.

Loud. Crisp. Commanding.

Startled silence fell.

A few people blinked. Others shifted upright, looking toward Hao like he’d just used some rare qi projection technique.

Hao blinked down at them.

He only used that feature because the system told him to. Something about “standard acoustic guidance node” or whatever that meant.

Still. He had their attention now.

His eyes swept across the crowd. All familiar faces. All regulars. All very, very quiet.

He took a breath.

“We’re starting the tournament now.”

A pause.

No reaction.

He clapped his hands once, looked around, and added.

“Win. Lose. Cry. Break up your sworn brotherhood. I don’t care. Just don’t break the table.”

Still nothing.

Hao squinted.

Did they need fireworks?

Fortunately –

Clap.

Lin Yijun stood up, looking slightly awkward, and started clapping slowly.

“Yeah!! Billiards!” Lin Yijun said with an energy that felt only 60% natural.

Beside him, Xiao Lianfeng blinked, processed it, and stood too.

He clapped harder.

“Let’s gooooo! Victory awaits!”

Somehow, that was the trigger.

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