That night, I dreamed. A place with no mound, no crowd, no system— Only the sound of the wind. No one else was there. And yet, the numbness in my fingertips remained.

  When I woke, the world still shimmered in gold. The Emperor’s calculations never ceased. But inside me, something remained uncomputed. Maybe it was pain. Maybe rage. Maybe just stubbornness.

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  Whatever it was, I could still throw. No matter how optimized this world becomes, My knuckleball will betray the next 0.5 seconds.