Divine Celebrity 103

I paused for a moment as everyone at the table froze, their expression varying, but I turned my attention to two. Our dean, and the opposing dean. Their expression was not too dissimilar to a teenager who had just been caught masturbating in the living room by their parents — only with a higher risk of stroke. 

I enjoyed their shock, as much as I enjoyed how their silly overcommitment to making that a big event had blown in their face. The dean would give a lot to change his choice and just kick me out of the team on a technicality. 

The scandal would be nothing compared to our little debate — one that was probably being watched by most of the city at this point if the amount of intent that I was receiving was any indicator. 

It a good timing, as most of the people were still at work, but bored out of their minds, dealing with their annoying coworkers, or their even more annoying bosses. I didn’t plan to time that show perfectly to the little gap, but thanks to the initiative of the cameraman, it arrived as a nice benefit. 

I looked back at the cameras, to see if there was any attempt to turn them off. Not only it was running, but also many other cameras were already turned on, their operators on the phone. 

That surprised me, but only after noticing the predatory expression of the reporters. Ratings trumped over favors, especially when delivered in such a juicy manner. 

The sports director of the opposing college was the first one to gather his wits. “This was supposed to be an event of friendship based on the request of your school, but clearly you weren’t briefed. I wished that you had delivered your concerns in a more appropriate manner, but we’re open to delaying the tournament a week if you wish.” 

All things considered, a good response. In one move, he pushed the blame for the event to our school, painted me as a hothead that was making a pointless fuss rather than just revealing the problem, and looked generous by offering a unilateral chance to delay things. 

Far more than I expected to receive when I started this little fracas. It was even a good deal, one that I would have no problem accepting in any other situation. 

Unfortunately them, the flood of Intent was an excellent reason to reject his silent offer of cooperation. “Nonsense. We’re already here. Why don’t we just play, and you can leave after getting humiliated.” I chuckled derisively. “It’ll be good practice for Sunday. Let’s just play and finish it today. How about changing it into a blitz tournament.” 

“I don’t think —“ our dean tried to interrupt, when their sports director raised his hand to silence him. 

“A good offer, but unfortunately, our players focus on the way the chess is meant to play, not this … quick version.” 

Another nice twist. He managed to reject my offer and insult my choice at the same time, while maintaining the moral high ground. He certainly deserved his job and all the benefits that came along with it. 

Too bad that he had no idea what I was truly capable of. I paused for a moment, making a show of thinking. “I have an idea, why don’t I play all of them at the same time. That way, they can think as much as they need, and we can still finish it tonight.” 

“That … hardly seems fair,” the sporting director murmured, smart enough to realize I wouldn’t have offered such a disadvantageous deal. 

Too bad that he wasn’t the decision-maker. “We accept, you arrogant kid,” their dean interrupted. 

“Excellent,” I said, enjoying the Intent flow getting even more intense. “We can start immediately.” 

Just as I was about to turn and walk toward the game boards, wanting to start the game immediately — the sooner I could start the game show into a show, the better I could tap into the fascination of the live crowd — when a sharp voice interrupted me. 

“Well, I don’t think such showmanship fits the spirit of the game. Don’t you agree, young man,” Professor Argus spoke, his voice smooth, though still with a noticeable accent. 

“Piss off, old man, I don’t have time to deal with you,” I answered. Was that rude? Certainly, but I had no intention of losing the momentum I had developed by acting respectfully to a random man. He might be one of the rising stars of the chess world, but the viewers hardly knew him. 

Yet, just as I was about to turn my back, I experienced something. 

A sense of presence spreading from the old German, one that reminded me of my guide — thankfully just similar in sensation, and not intensity, lacking the weight to scare me. The intensity was different, almost like the roar of a tiger compared to the annoying mewling of a little kitten.

Alarming nonetheless. 

I remembered Lauren talking about his background, and his spectacular rise during the last two years. 

Two years, which was the time I was able to track the magical weirdness based on dubious public events. 

How fascinating, I thought. 

“What a rude thing to say, maybe you should think about apologizing,” he said, and I felt a sense of pressure and intimidation, one that was different than my traits — which only optimized my own bodily control, timing, and other indirect aspects. 

Comparably, what I felt about myself was a directed presence, one that reminded me of the spells my guide preferred to cast, more … substantial. 

I thought about following his suggestion and apologize. Not because his little magic trick actually scared me, not after the magical displays of my guide. Even the fact that he was somehow able to use magic didn’t intimidate me. Worst, I could release my guide, who could easily deal with him 

I could see the signs of strain on him already. No way he could stand against my guide. 

My considerations were more about the strategic implications. Pushing his effect back easily would show that I was not ordinary, making me a target. Ignoring his effect would be a poor choice. 

Then, a flicker of inspiration hit me. It would be a poor choice, only if he was here accidentally. But why should a global chess player and his student should bother with the sham of a chess tournament that was arranged at the last minute? 

I had just assumed that it was another result of Spencer spending money, but the sudden display suggested another thing. 

That they were here to target me as well. 

“And you should don’t put that suggestion where it came from and get out if you don’t like it. It’s not like I begged you to come, old man,” I said, taking a risk. 

He said nothing for a moment, looking angry. 

But not surprised, which confirmed my guess. I was the target. 

“Don’t talk to my teacher like that,” his student interrupted, looking angry. 

Just looking angry, but not actually angry. I had noticed the Professor gesturing to him before he acted, and he wasn’t good enough at acting to support that role. 

“Feel free to join the game if you feel like taking revenge… Or humiliated.” 

“That would not be necessary. He’ll play you one to one. We don’t want you throwing excuses, do we?” he said, looking calm, confirming that it was their intention in the first place. 

I didn’t know if they just wanted to test me, but actually defeat me to piggyback the Intent I was generating —  possibly to weaken me, possibly to actually strengthen themselves further. 

“Sure, he can wait his turn,” I offered, and they both nodded — much to the distaste of the rival sports director. That their quick acceptance had already given me an important part of their preference. If they wanted to weaken me, they would have tried to be the first ones to fight. 

Instead, they wanted to play only after my victory. After all, if they could defeat me after my victory, it will be a much more impressive achievement — bringing even more Intent. 

A rare opportunity in the chess context. 

“Shall we start in ten minutes, or do your players need more time to recover until they can play one to ten,” I said, complete with a mocking chuckle. 

“Five minutes is enough,” their dean declared, while ours was busy looking at me with pure hatred. 

I turned and walked to my team, who was looking at me in shock, Lauren in particular. I ignored her for a moment and looked at the players. “I hope any of you wasn’t looking forward to the tournament,” I said, only to receive a set of identical negative answers, more than happy to stay away from such a mess. 

“What were you thinking?” Lauren interrupted, poking my side. “You can’t just create a mess whenever you want.” 

“Of course, I can, I won the bet,” I said with a shrug. “And I thought you weren’t supposed to try and stop me,” 

“But…” 

“That seems like trying to stop me,” I said with a chuckle. “Do I need to silence you again? It’ll make a good show for the cameras.” 

That was enough to silence her, resurrecting her flaming blush. I said nothing, just waiting for the workers to set up the boards, and the cameras furiously trying to find better angles…