The old man chuckled, his voice lighter than it had been in years. "White, of course. I always play the aggressor."
Noah nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he took the black pieces. He sat down opposite the old man, adjusting his chair to face him. The room remained silent, a mixture of awe, confusion, and gratitude hanging in the air.
Dr. Ray, who had been standing in stunned silence until now, finally found his voice. "I don’t understand this. Medically, there’s no way…"
Noah glanced up at him, his eyes sharp. "Not everything can be explained by medical textbooks, Doc."
"But there must be some scientific explanation! I mean, this goes beyond—"
"Let it go, Ray." Adam interrupted, his tone firm. "Right now, all that matters is that my father is standing and he’s well. We’ll figure out the ’how’ later."
Dr. Ray opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it. With a resigned sigh, he stepped back and watched as the old man made his first move, a pawn sliding forward two spaces.
The tension in the room thickened as Noah’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze shifting from the board to the old man.
His expression remained unreadable, calm, and calculated. But behind those eyes was a mind working at incredible speeds, processing hundreds of possibilities in mere seconds.
Noah rested his chin on his hand, and with deliberate slowness, he responded, moving his knight forward.
The old man’s eyes twinkled with experience as he assessed the board. "Aggressive already, I see." He nudged another pawn forward, shifting the centre of the board. "You won’t throw me off balance that easily."
But Noah remained silent, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table. His mind had already seen this game unfold. He wasn’t playing the pieces in front of him; he was playing the old man. Each move was a test, a way to gauge his opponent’s thought process.
His next move was swift—a second knight was brought into play. The crowd watched in suspense as the pieces danced across the board.
But Noah was far from random. He was drawing the old man into his trap.
Every move was a nudge, a suggestion, leading the old man down a path Noah had meticulously planned from the very start.
The old man, feeling the pressure of the game intensified, slid his bishop across the board. He was beginning to realize that Noah was no ordinary player. seaʀᴄh thё Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
"I see what you’re doing, Noah. But I won’t fall for it," he said, smiling. "You think you can corner me?"
Noah glanced at the old man, then back at the board.
The next few moves happened quickly, almost too fast for the spectators to track. Noah’s rooks surged forward, one claiming a pawn, the other quietly positioning itself at the edge of the board.
His queen remained untouched, lying in wait as if Noah had no need for it yet. Each of Noah’s moves seemed harmless at first glance, almost simplistic. But the old man was beginning to sense the pattern.
The way Noah’s knights crisscrossed the board in perfect synchronization, the way his pawns didn’t just block but subtly guided the old man’s pieces into unfavourable positions—it was like facing an invisible wall at every turn.
Beads of sweat appeared on the old man’s forehead, but he kept his composure. He advanced his queen, thinking to make a decisive strike. He had an opening—Noah’s bishop was exposed.
But before his hand could leave the piece, Noah spoke, his voice soft but razor-sharp. "Are you sure about that move?"
The old man hesitated. His fingers hovered over the queen, and then he pulled his hand back, his eyes scanning the board again. Something was wrong.
He had miscalculated—somehow. Noah hadn’t moved yet, but the old man could feel it. His queen was bait. A trap he hadn’t even seen.
Instead, he opted for his rook, aiming to break Noah’s control over the centre of the board. "Your turn," he said, trying to keep the unease out of his voice.
Noah didn’t respond. He merely moved a pawn, seemingly insignificant. But to the old man, it was a glaring signal.
the real attack was coming soon, and he had no idea where it would hit. He studied the board harder now, realizing that every piece Noah had moved had led him here, to this exact moment. A cold chill settled over him.
Noah casually slid his queen forward slowly.
The old man’s breath caught. He hadn’t even realized it until now, but Noah had orchestrated this perfectly. His king was vulnerable, surrounded on all sides. Every piece he had left was in a position Noah had dictated.
Noah looked up, breaking the silence. "Check."
The old man stared at the board in disbelief. Noah’s queen, previously sitting dormant, now loomed over his king with an unshakable authority. He scanned the board desperately for a counter, but every escape route was blocked, and every plan he thought of countered.
The old man’s hands trembled slightly as he moved a pawn in a last-ditch effort to protect his king. But Noah didn’t even glance at it. Instead, his rook slid across the board with lethal precision. It took the old man a second to realize the game was over.
Noah leaned forward, his eyes locking with the old man’s. "Checkmate."
A wave of shock spread through the room. Amelia gasped softly, her eyes wide with awe. Dr. Ray stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Adam had a shocked look on his face, he knew his dad’s skill in chess. His dad wasn’t just a casual chess player.
The old man’s gaze dropped to the board. He had been outmanoeuvred in every possible way, guided unknowingly into a loss from the very beginning.
Noah stood up, smoothing out his shirt as if the game hadn’t even mattered. "Close one,"
The old man looked up, still processing. He let out a long breath, his face softening into a smile. "You’re something else, Noah."