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  Part- 336:

  The coach’s eyes gleamed with approval. It was clear that Jiko’s mind operated like a strategist’s, stantly seeking opportuo turn minor moments into decisive advantages. He gave Jiko a firm pat on the back, signaling his trust. "Good. You’ve got the right mi. Stay sharp."

  Jiko returned his focus to Banani's team. His gaze ierg, as if he could see past the surface bravado of their ughter and the casual stretches they performed at the sidelines. What Banani viewed as fidence, Jiko saotential blind spots. His thoughts raced, predig sarios—what would happen if one of Banani’s aces were isoted or exhausted early ich?

  "They're flying high on adrenaline," Jiko murmured, almost to himself, "but that won’t st. If we drag the match out long enough, their energy will dip. And when that happens, we’ll strike."

  His words carried the calm assurance of someone who had seen how victory ofteo the one who keeps a cool head under pressure. While Banani’s team might have had the strength, Jiko khat enduraiming, and exploiting weakness would be the deg factors.

  He turo g his own team, giving a subtle nod to his teammates. They uood what that meant—stay patient, hold the line, and capitalize on any sign of weakness. Victory, to Jiko, was not just about overp the oppo; it was about pying the long game, about turning pressure into mistakes and mistakes into decisive moments.

  From across the arena, James noticed the iy of Jiko’s stare and instinctively felt a twinge of disfort. His heightened awareness, a skill he had hohrough training and bat, picked up on something unusual in Jiko’s demeanor. James could tell that this wasn’t going to be a straightforward match. Jiko wasn’t like the other captains Banani had faced so far. This was someone who pyed with precision—someone who saw every fight as a puzzle to be solved.

  James leaned slightly toward Ryan, keeping his voice low. "That guy—Jiko. He’s different. Feels like he’s analyzing us, not just watg."

  Ryan followed James’s gaze and gave a small grunt of aowledgment. "Yeah, I noticed. Guy gives me the creeps. Like he already knows something we don’t."

  James houghtfully, but he kept his expressioral. They had e too far to let nerves get the better of them now. But he khat uimating Badda would be a fatal mistake.

  Meanwhile, Jiko’s observation tinued. His eyes lingered briefly on Nabi—he could tell she was their stro female fighter. Her movements were precise, her bance impeccable. But precision could lead to predictability, and predictability could be exploited. , his gaze drifted toward James.

  “James,” Jiko whispered, almost tasting the name. He could tell that James was different from most pyers—a mixture of raw talent and strategic thinking, the kind of athlete who could ge the tide of a match. But Jiko also sensed something else: James was under immense pressure, likely carrying the weight of his team’s expectations.

  That was the crack Jiko was searg for. Every strong fighter has a breaking point—a moment when the mind falters, even if the body does not. All they had to do was create that moment.