Chapter 115: With technique and reflexes like that, you’re almost as good as I was in my youth.

Inside the General Administration of Sport.

Listening to the words spoken by the man in front of him, the chubby man laughed.

"What kind of joke is that? You can actually say such things."

The chubby man, addressed as Coach, was Liu Guoliang. Clearly, he did not believe a word the man in front of him was saying.

"I'm not joking, Coach. If you don't believe me, see for yourself."

As he spoke, the man shoved his phone into Liu Guoliang's hands. On the screen, Zhang Ke’s figure was visible; he appeared to be playing table tennis with someone. The live stream showed the final point of the match, just as the fans were expecting a plot twist. At that very moment, the live chat was flooded with the score: 9-0. Naturally, Liu Guoliang assumed Zhang Ke had scored the nine points.

"This kid," Liu Guoliang said. "I've told him so many times, you must never 'blank' your opponent, especially a random civilian. Is he going to let the next point go?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhang Ke made a service error in the live stream, the ball hitting the net. Liu Guoliang was speechless.

"Is he learning this 'letting points' routine from Zhang Yining? This is just too sloppy."

However, the moment he finished his sentence, the chat on the screen suddenly changed.

"10-0!"

In an instant, countless question marks popped up in Liu Guoliang's mind. He was stunned. Especially when he noticed that the person who had defeated Zhang Ke wasn't even using a proper table tennis paddle, but merely a piece of cardboard, he felt as if the world had lost its sense of reality.

A world champion, crushed by a random civilian using a piece of cardboard? Is this some kind of joke? Even a novel wouldn't dare write it this way. If this were really the case, what would they need professional athletes for? They might as well just pack up and go to sleep, stop wasting time training, and just find any random person off the street to play in tournaments. They could even carry a piece of cardboard and give the foreigners a real shock.

"What is going on here?"

Hearing Liu Guoliang's question, the man who had handed him the phone hurriedly explained the sequence of events. Once he understood that Zhang Ke had been "playing the pig to eat the tiger," Liu Guoliang began to grasp the situation.

"So the kid was doing it on purpose. Maybe that final point was just a mistake."

Although Liu Guoliang said this, in his heart, he felt the explanation was a bit of a stretch. The word "mistake" was something that simply shouldn't apply to Zhang Ke. But besides that, he couldn't think of any other explanation.

At this point, Zhang Ke had revealed his identity and requested another match with the person who had just beaten him. Seeing the match begin, Liu Guoliang immediately became serious, putting aside his work and focusing his full attention on the phone. Gradually, his eyes widened. After watching a few rallies, Liu Guoliang was so shocked he couldn't speak.

"Damn, this young man."

"This level of control over power and angles, this reaction speed."

"And these skilled techniques and sense of timing."

"He's almost as good as I was in my prime!"

***

In the park.

The latest match between Zhang Ke and Bai Qingming had come to an end. The "Great Demon King" let go of his paddle with trembling hands, his head hanging low. Yes, he had lost again. The score was 1-10; his opponent had won ten points and conceded one.

Zhang Ke could swear to the heavens that he hadn't underestimated his opponent this time. From the very start, he had unleashed his full potential, performing even better than when he won the Olympic gold medal. Yet, even though he had given it his all, treating this casual game as if it were a professional tournament, the result remained the same: total annihilation.

The Great Demon King was lost. Who am I? Where am I? Am I really a table tennis world champion? He began to doubt himself, standing in place, muttering something as if he were possessed.

"I am the Great Demon King, but others can be the Great Demon King too. Everyone can be the Great Demon King!"

This wasn't just Zhang Ke being arrogant or his mental state collapsing over a small matter. It was simply that this situation was too hard to accept; no one would be able to handle it.

"Are you alright?" Bai Qingming asked at the right moment.

Disturbed by the voice, Zhang Ke suddenly snapped out of it. He shook his head to indicate he was fine. Recalling how Bai Qingming had previously said he was "incredibly strong," Zhang Ke finally understood. The man wasn't acting cocky; he was the real deal!

On the other side, seeing his opponent retreat into his own shell, Bai Qingming felt a bit embarrassed and offered some comfort.

"For a beginner, you're actually not bad. I think you've got some talent, just go back and train for a few more years."

Bai Qingming said this with a smile. He didn't know if the guy had talent or not, he was just making it up—polite small talk, no need to take it seriously. But upon hearing this, Zhang Ke almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

*You, you really think I'm a beginner?* It was bad enough to lose, but now he had to twist the knife in. *Are you even human?* Zhang Ke felt miserable. But there was nothing he could do; he had to swallow it, since his skills were inferior and he had lost.

"You keep practicing here, I'm heading off." Bai Qingming dropped the piece of cardboard and turned to leave, but was stopped by Zhang Ke.

"What now?" Bai Qingming frowned. Could it be that this guy had lost his temper and wanted to start a fight after losing?

"Do you really not know who I am?" Zhang Ke asked.

"Who are you?" Bai Qingming asked with forced patience. If it were a normal person who had just beaten a world champion, they might brag about it for a lifetime, but he acted as if nothing had happened—because Bai Qingming truly didn't know who Zhang Ke was. He had heard the name, but he had never seen the face.

This made Zhang Ke feel even worse. "You really don't know who I am?"

It was like Mike Tyson walking down the street, getting beaten to a pulp by an ordinary person while having no way to fight back, and then having the guy say, "Who do you think you are, blocking my path?" Could there be anything more depressing in the world? If there was, it would only mean the beating wasn't hard enough.

Just as Zhang Ke was lamenting that he was the clown in this scenario, Bai Qingming spoke up.

"Do you know who I am?"

Subconsciously, Bai Qingming thought Zhang Ke had been putting on an act earlier. This annoyed him. Acting tough in front of him? Isn't that like brandishing a sword in front of Guan Yu? That was why he asked.

Zhang Ke shook his head.

"You don't even know me?" Bai Qingming retorted, mimicking Zhang Ke’s earlier tone.

"Who are you?" Zhang Ke asked, full of curiosity.

"My name is Bai Qingming, but I have another title."

"What title?"

"Spiritual Leader!"

With that, Bai Qingming turned and walked away—neat and clean, leaving no room for Zhang Ke to retort. Zhang Ke was left standing there, pondering what "Spiritual Leader" meant. By now, the live stream had long since been shut off by his assistant; otherwise, the fans would have surely explained the meaning of those four words to him.

With no answer in sight, Zhang Ke’s phone rang. It was a call from Liu Guoliang. After picking up, Zhang Ke spoke first.

"Hello, Coach."

"What? You saw my live stream too?"

"Coach, listen, let me explain. I... I hadn't woken up yet, so my condition wasn't great."

"I..."

"Forget it, no point making excuses. I'm just trash, alright?"