The Cricket System : Rise of the Pace Demon

Chapter 56: Team 7 vs Team 9 - Part - 2 : The Wrathful Yorker

Rohan looked up at the sunny sky, clutching the red leather ball tightly in his hand, a mixture of shock, adrenaline, and pure madness washing over him.

A negative twenty SP penalty would completely bankrupt his system progression. He couldn’t afford a single slip-up. Taking three wickets on this dead, crumbling pitch was already a nightmare, but the system was also demanding he dismiss Captain Sameer and somehow hit two sixes with his pathetic batting stats.

Fine, Rohan thought, his eyes narrowing into cold slits as he turned around at the top of his bowling mark. If the System wants a monster, I’ll give it a monster.

He began his second run-up, accelerating smoothly. His footfalls were light, his body perfectly balanced as he reached the release point and snapped his wrist with controlled ferocity.

Ball 2: The ball tore down the pitch at 138 km/h, pitching on a strict 5th-stump line. It nipped away slightly off the dry seam. The batsman, Vikrant, simply lifted his bat high into the air and let the ball pass safely into Kabir’s gloves.

Rohan paused as he walked back to collect the ball. He didn’t even attempt a stroke, Rohan analyzed, his sharp instincts picking up on the batsman’s behavior. He misjudged the line completely, expecting it to tail inward.

Rohan turned back around, taking a deep breath, and charged in for the third delivery.

Ball 3: Flying down the track at 135.5 km/h, the ball landed directly on the middle-stump line. Vikrant’s eyes tracked the leather intently. Recognizing the danger of a straight ball on a low-bouncing track, he brought his bat down with textbook precision, respectfully defending it back to the bowler.

Ball 4: Rohan slowed his pace slightly to 131 km/h, bowling a tight, back-of-a-length delivery on the off-stump. Vikrant pushed it toward cover. Dot ball.

Ball 5: Increasing his speed back to 136 km/h, Rohan targeted the pads. Vikrant tapped it softly to mid-on. Another dot ball.

Rohan reached the top of his mark for the final delivery of the over. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and gripped the seam firmly.

Time to test his back-foot defense, Rohan thought.

Ball 6: Rohan charged in and unleashed a blistering 138.9 km/h thunderbolt right on the 4th-stump line. It was his fastest ball of the morning. Rohan fully expected the batsman to be rushed into an awkward, wildly mistimed shot.

Instead, Vikrant calmly shifted his weight, offered a soft hand, and dead-batted the ball right onto the parched earth.

End of 1st Over: Maiden Over (0/0).

Rohan caught the ball tossed back by Kabir, a slight frown tugging at his lips. He had bowled six relentless, high-pace deliveries on pristine lines, yet the batsman hadn’t even looked uncomfortable. Team 9 had made up their mind: they were going to treat Rohan with absolute, surgical respect and refuse to take any risks against him.

However, Team 9’s respect was reserved strictly for Rohan.

The second over began from the opposite end, with Team 7’s second fast bowler taking the ball. What followed was an absolute disaster.

• Ball 1: A loose, short delivery wide of off-stump. Vikrant stood tall and smashed it over deep point for a towering SIX.

• Ball 2: A hurried yorker that missed its mark. Dot ball.

• Ball 3: Tapped into the gap for a single. (1 run)

• Ball 4: The non-striker comfortably flicked a leg-side delivery for 2 runs.

• Ball 5: Another short ball that was brutally pulled over mid-wicket for another massive SIX.

• Ball 6: Pitching far too full, the ball was driven effortlessly past the bowler for a cracking FOUR.

End of 2nd Over: 19 runs conceded.

Scoreboard: Team 9 — 19/0 (2.0 Overs).

The contrast was brutal. Where Rohan had suffocated them with speed and precision, Team 7’s secondary pace attack was being ruthlessly torn to shreds.

Rohan immediately walked over to Aryan near mid-off, gesturing toward the pitch.

"Aryan, this pitch isn’t offering anything to fast bowlers who lack control," Rohan said urgently, wiping sweat from his chin. "The dust is absorbing the impact, making loose balls sit up like slow-pitch softballs. Opponent batsmen are just waiting to smash our seamers. We need to bring the spinners on right now!"

Aryan looked at the crumbling pitch, then at the scoreboard, letting out a heavy sigh.

"You’re right, Rohan," Aryan admitted, his tone laced with tactical frustration. "The pitch is a seamer’s nightmare. But we have a huge problem—we only brought two main spinners in our playing eleven today. If I exhaust their overs right now in the powerplay, we won’t have any spin options left for the middle and death overs. I can’t bring them on before the 10th over."

Aryan placed a hand on Rohan’s shoulder, his eyes burning with tactical reliance.

"Team 9 is playing a dangerous game. They are completely defending against you and brutally targeting our other bowlers. That means the entire weight of this powerplay rests on you, Rohan. You have to be our sole attacker. You have to break this partnership yourself!"

Rohan’s grip on the ball tightened until his knuckles turned white. A fierce, predatory fire lit up inside his chest.

"Understood, Captain," Rohan said, a dark smile playing on his lips. "Let’s destroy them."

High up in the air-conditioned pavilion, seated behind the dark glass window, the Head Coach watched the exchange through a pair of high-powered binoculars. A faint, dark smile crept onto his stern face.

They are targeting your teammates to starve you of pressure, Rohan, the Head Coach thought, taking a sip of his tea. Show me how you handle frustration when the world refuses to give you what you deserve.

3rd Over

Rohan took his position at the top of his run-up. His eyes locked onto the non-striker who had just smashed two sixes in the previous over.

He’s standing wide open, leaning heavily toward the leg-side to clear his arms, Rohan noted instantly, his upgraded Line & Length and tactical mind working in overdrive. If I bowl a tight, climbing delivery on the 5th-stump line at maximum pace, he won’t be able to extend his arms. He’ll be forced to feather an edge.

Rohan sprinted down the track, his strides exploding with kinetic power.

Ball 1: Rohan unleashed a fiery 137.5 km/h delivery, pitching it sharply on the 5th-stump line.

The batsman fell directly into the trap. He swung his bat violently, trying to play a high-risk cover drive.

CLACK!

A distinct, audible woody click echoed across the quiet pitch. The ball skimmed off the faint outside edge of the bat and flew straight into Kabir’s waiting gloves!

"YES!" Rohan screamed, turning toward the square-leg umpire with his hands raised high in the air.

"HOWZAT?!" Kabir roared from behind the stumps, throwing the ball up in celebration.

The stadium fell silent for a second. The field umpire calmly adjusted his counter, looked at Rohan, and slowly shook his head.

"Not out."

Rohan’s jaw dropped in absolute disbelief. "What?! Sir, he clearly edged it! Everyone heard the sound!"

Rohan stormed toward the umpire, his eyes blazing with fury, his voice raised in uncontainable anger. "The ball changed direction! It was a clear edge!"

The umpire’s face hardened into stone. "I said not out, bowler. Go back to your mark."

"Rohan! Stop!"

Aryan sprinted from extra cover, throwing his arms around Rohan’s chest and physically pulling the enraged fast bowler back.

"Calm down, Rohan!" Aryan shouted directly into his ear, holding him firmly. "Do not argue with the umpire! This isn’t a school match. If you lose your temper, he will slap you with a disciplinary strike or suspend you from the camp entirely! Look at me—let it go!"

Rohan panted heavily, his chest heaving as he stared at the smirking batsman who was tapping his bat as if nothing had happened. Rohan closed his eyes, taking three deep, shaky breaths to force the black rage back into his chest.

"I’m sorry, Captain," Rohan muttered, his voice trembling slightly. "I’m fine. I’m ready for the second ball."

High in the pavilion, the Head Coach chuckled softly, giving another dark, satisfied smile. Good control, boy. But anger without an outlet will rot you from the inside. Show me your answer.

Rohan walked back to his mark. He didn’t look at the umpire. He didn’t look at the stands. His entire world narrowed down to three wooden sticks stuck in the dry dirt.

He didn’t just run—he charged like a wounded beast.

Ball 2: Rohan reached the crease, his body contorting as he threw his entire frame, his upgraded Physique, and all his raw hatred into the release.

SWOOSH!

A lethal, lightning-fast 139.5 km/h toe-crushing yorker slammed straight down the middle-stump line!

The batsman didn’t even have time to bring his bat down. The leather missile bypassed the wooden blade entirely, crashing violently into the base of the middle stump!

CRASH!

The middle stump was ripped clean out of the dry dirt, cartwheeling three times through the air before landing heavily on the dusty pitch!

Silence descended over Pitch Number 4.

Kabir and Rohan didn’t say a word to the umpire. They didn’t shout an appeal. Rohan simply turned around, standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring dead into the eyes of the stunned, departing batsman, and then casting a long, icy look toward the silent umpire.

DING!

[Side Quest Update]

• Objective 1: Take 1 / 3 Wickets in this match. (Progress: 1/3)

Over the next seven overs, Rohan continued his absolute reign of terror. Even on a pitch designed to kill fast bowlers, his newly upgraded stats allowed him to choke Team 9’s scoring completely. By the time the powerplay ended and the spinners finally came on in the 10th over, Team 9 was struggling severely.

Scoreboard after 10 Overs:

Team 9: 57/1.

Rohan’s Figures: 4 Overs | 1 Maiden | 9 Runs | 1 Wicket.

The Pace Demon had officially broken their momentum. Now, it was time for the real war to begin.