Chapter 1: One For A Million

Sepak Takraw is one of the easiest sport to play...

Whooosh!~

After the ball was tossed to you, all you need to do is to hit the ball with your foot.

PAAH!~

And send it to the other side of the court.

PAHT!~

The other side receives,

PAAH!~

Another guy tosses it high and another one jumps to "kill" it with a spike. 

WHAPANG!!~

And if the ball managed to successfully land on the other side, then, a score is made.

Sepak Takraw is just that simple.

Except to "them".

~Whoooosh~

Suddenly, the world slows down.

The loud cheering disappeared and everyone else blurred out of his focus.

He could hear the sound of the wind brushing on his ears as his calves suddenly bulged with compressed power. His leap was perfectly timed while his body spun diagonally in mid-air like a spinning cartwheel.

The world spun in his perspective while the weight in his body shifted. From every part, the power travels from his upper body, and like a slithering snake, the momentum was transferred to the downward swiping foot. 

WHAAA~

It was the sound of the wind brushing against the incoming foot, that was swung like a sword in the hand of a warrior.

The ball made contact with the blurring foot, and the next thing that followed was a sound of a crispy blow. 

PAAAHHNG!!!!~

The Takraw God's silhouette completed the spike with an echoing sound before landing with a perfect and graceful pose. He sent the ball on the other end at the speed no normal eye can follow.

Three players on the other end tried their best to defend against it.

With bulging muscles, desperate haste, and unyielding determination, they positioned themselves in hopes of blocking the incoming "kill".

But to no avail.

SWHOOOSH~

The ball was too fast, too quick, and too tricky. It streaked and passed thru all their body gaps like a yellow glowing dragon piercing thru the thick dark clouds they called defense.

All their hopeless eyes could see was the ball landing behind them, a score was just secured from the other side, ending the game with another absolute domination.

"Truly he is the God of Takraw." was their mouth can only utter.

The truth is, Sepak Takraw is known as one of the hardest sport to play around the world.

More especially, when you are facing the God of Takraw.

PRRRT!~

"Game set over! score 15-0 in favor of the Takraw God, Santi!",

The referee's voice echoed across the jam-packed gym as another set of professional Sepak Takraw regu or team was beaten by the living legendary Takraw player named Santi Arthrit (สันติอาทิตย์) of Thailand.

"Another team lost and beaten without a single score."

"As expected of the Takraw God. Numbers don't matter against him! Either one versus one, one versus three, or even one versus ten! It's really incredible!"

"I really wonder how he got this good. I don't think just extreme training methods can achieve this. It must be his own unique talent..."

The spectating crowd watched in awe while at the same time, doubtful at the scenes they are witnessing.

Standing alone at the other side of the court is the extremely rare Sepak Takraw genius that has taken the world by storm. One of the responsible people for the Sepak Takraw's steadily increasing popularity across the globe.

A Thailand-born genius, Santi is capable of defeating countless numbers of elite sepak takraw teams even when he is alone. He is considered a once in a billion human talent and the best among the best.

Ten days ago, Santi arrived in the Philippines, and during one of his interviews, his most awaited announcement was made.

"One million pesos for every single score against me. Doesn't matter if it's a whole regu, a solo, or even a one versus ten. I will defeat all of you alone. I am the Takraw God and I am challenging everyone. Come and let's have fun!"

Santi confidently declared while smiling at the numerous cameras and media-men surrounding him at the airport.

His outstanding facial appearance, overwhelming presence, and perfect athletic body made some of the young women nearby collapse. Others were shrieking like a wild boar.

It was later revealed that the location of the sepak takraw event will be held at a small Community College in the middle of a small town called Madridejos in Bantayan island.

A lot of people and organizers were in doubt and disbelief as to why held such a big and exciting event to a small unknown community college in the middle of a small island in the Philippines?

Their only guess was that the sepak takraw star chooses that place to have a vacation on the Bantayan Island which was famous for its Boracay-like white sand beaches.

Anyway, athletes around the world - even those who have no sepak takraw experience, still decided to give Santi's once-in-a-lifetime opportunity a shot. However, not many of them can even qualify for the opportunity.

In fact, this is not the first time Santi has hosted such an event.

From his homeland in Thailand to China, Malaysia, Cambodia, India, the US, Laos, South Korea, and Japan. Santi has beaten countless professional teams and finishing every single one of his matches with a clean 0-15 score.

A score that was judged plainly impossible to consistently achieve across hundreds of matches.

Unfortunately, Santi's overwhelming performance says otherwise.

And finally today in the Philippines. The new chance for those hopeful players has finally arrived.

One score.

Just one score is enough to turn their lives a hundred and sixty degrees. Everyone was hopeful and excited and some could not help but boast in advance of their win.

Until reality snapped into them when it was their turn.

The moment those innocent teams faced the lone Takraw God on the stage, was the moment they realized the true meaning of someone considered as the Sky.

At the present day, countless teams came up to face the Takraw God with overwhelming confidence, until a few minutes later...

"Aaaaagh! Noooo!" The Tekong or the Server could not take it anymore and they both collapse on the spot due to exhaustion. Their faces are pale and their legs keep on shaking uncontrollably.

Santi's speed was beyond their expectation. His spikes are unstoppable and his strategy is unpredictable. Not to mention his overwhelming presence that seems to erase their countless years of experience. Sometimes, they forget to move despite seeing the ball incoming.

No matter how hard they tried, even with their numerical advantage, the Takraw God stayed true to his title.

Whapaak!

Score!

Whapaaang!

Score!

Whapaang! 

Scoooore! Game set! Santi wins!

Another team tried their luck only to lose just like the other team before them.

Santi was just plainly unbeatable.

"Is that even possible!?" The eyes of the Killer or the Striker were still in disbelief as he gazed at the calm and unchallenged figure of the Takraw God behind the net.

"Damn! There goes our chance.." The player in the Feeder role mumbled hopelessly as they were finally guided by the organizers out of the stage.

"Is it finally over!? I wanna go home. I have enough for today's humiliation." The team coach who came as lively and excited as a sizzling firecracker a while ago now looked like a dried-up old man.

It was a sight that the crowd have started to get used to.

The spectators are always in awe and restless of Santi's performance. Despite facing teams alone, his never-ending stamina, terrifying timing and judgment, overwhelming speed, and heart-stopping spikes, was always good enough to prove his title as the Takraw God.

The next teams on the queue are doubtful but at the same time hopeful for a miracle on their turn; while those teams that Santi had beaten a while ago, knew the harsh reality that was waiting for them.

Based on the experience of those who have faced Santi, scoring against the Takraw God is not hard. It is just plainly impossible.

The moment one stood before him, an overwhelming presence would cover one's mind. Like a viel of superiority, one is never allowed to gaze at the emperor's face. It was an unexplainable suppression.

Like a helpless duck in front of a Dragon, their accumulated game experience from numerous sepak takraw tournaments felt like empty days.

Their sport senses dulled and their trained muscle reflexes refused to kick in. Ten years of experience? Five? Twenty? They were nothing against an absolute player like Santi.

They felt like they're are facing a giant unbreakable steel wall. His speed was faster than their eyes could keep up. His kicks and taps were lightning quick and before they knew it, the game has already ended.

Let's face it. This support may look cool and fun but the truth is, as long as one does not have enough body flexibility, stamina, control, and a sense of teamwork, this sport will surely be hell to play.

One would surely be spending most of his time picking up the ball instead of playing with it. Now imagine the frustration it could bring.

However, as long as one is determined enough to get good at this sport, the reward was just worth it.

Playing sepak takraw has incredible benefits when played a lot.

Once you practice well, one gains a decent flexible body together with a good eye and body reflex. An improved core builds a good body foundation while getting a more refined sense of balance. Not to mention the bonus Kung-fu-like kicks that could be fatal enough to knock out a bigger bully just in case.

Overall, sepak takraw is a sport that is hard to start but becomes greatly enjoyable in the later stage as long as one is determined enough to practice.

But the bigger reward comes at the built friendship along the way.

Unfortunately, after this event, a lot of them will probably disband. With the huge one million pesos cash at stake, teams that had lost were in complete disharmony.

"How could you not stop that spike? Were you watching porn? What happened to your reaction?"

"And what did you do? You cant even react during those spikes as well."

"I am a feeder! I am not supposed to block."

"Bullsh*t! I am out"

The temptation of money and the terrifying pressure of losing caused those desperate teams to argue and fight in the middle of the game. Once teamwork collapsed, it was only a breeze for Santi to finish those teams.

So far, out of the nine tournaments he hosted in different counties around the globe not a single team managed to score against him. Yes, not even a single point. With a few exceptions on his private fights.

His public team executions is just a part of his long term plan. Though he is rich and famous enough, he does not plan to let a single one of those teams score easily at all.

During one of the breaks, Santi walked towards his bench and wiped out his sweat. Of course, the creepy media personnel took this chance and asked him a question.

"Sawatdee-crap! Mr. Santi!" A smiling female reporter from international sports news agency hurriedly suppressed her excitement, introduced herself then asked a complicated question.

"If you do not mind, may we know the secret to your amazing sepak takraw skills? If it's possible, do you have a special training method that you can maybe share with us at the very least?"

It was a question she hated the most but had no choice but to ask since it was specifically requested and demanded by her boss. As long as Santi answers this question, they are surely bound to hit a new super title cover that will bring a flood of viewers to their news page or show.

"My secret is simple."

Surprisingly enough, Santi remained calm and his eyes locked on the camera that was recording in front of him. His deep cold dark blue eyes resembled the deep blue sea and blended well at his tanned brown skin while his manly lips moved gracefully to reply.

"I am the best. Who needs a team when you alone is enough?" then Santi gently wiped the remaining sweat on his face. He nodded at the organizers as a sign to start the next game before going back to the field.

The reporters were about to ask him another question but were given no more chances to ask as the security personnel immediately blocked them. Fortunately, with the crispy words that Santi gave just moments ago, they sure have at least something to interesting to write about.

Santi's words of the proclamation as the best was not an exaggeration and not new. But to see him actually saying it in front of the camera as if provoking someone was truly refreshing to see.

The moment he entered the field, the crowd began their usual cheers.

"Look! He is back! It's starting again!"

"Hurry, we need to get those perfect spike shots. They're are worth gems on our station and those sports magazines!"

"Kyaaaah! Wai SantiiI! Hellooooo!"

"I love you, Santi! Please marry me!"

"Santi, do you mind letting the next team score at least once, please? We need the money for my cancer operation. Yes please? Kruṇā~ Kruṇā~"

"Mr. Santi! My house is on fire! Can you please-Oof"

"Phwk reā rạk khuṇ!!!! Mr. Santiiii!" (we love you)

"Buntis ako! Ikaw ang amaaa!" (I'm pregnant you are the father!)

The deafening crowd blended with the rapid sound of multiple camera shutters as the fully-loaded small community college gym was starting to shake due to the people's shouts and cheers. The security guards got their hands full of begging spectators as well. Whether they are telling the truth or lies, no one cares.

The new Team that was about to play against Santi is the best sepak takraw team of the neighboring town's prestigious Bantayan University.

Three fit and proud-looking players came forward with their mocking eyes. As players hailing from the bigger and more advanced college institution, they were greatly disgusted at the small gym the Madridejos Community College could offer to the world-renowned Takraw God.

However, it doesn't matter at this stage. It was the organizer's choice after all and it was not in their control.

But just one score against this man and their name and the school would surely soar up high in popularity. The school Dean and coach are currently present, cheering them with all their might. A bright future lies ahead and they trained for a long time just for this moment.

Fame and money are just standing right behind the net before them.

While the next team is preparing to start the game of their lifetime, a busy vendor was also having the sale of his lifetime. The jam-packed gym was a perfect place for his Balut (boiled duck embryo) and peanut products.

"Balut mo sir! Balut maaam! Paeeeeeenut-mani to make you happy! Affordable na, teeeeesty paa! What are you waiting for!? It's four for twenty per pack promo limited offer!"

Chiko's sales spike was long but attention-grabbing. His overflowing confidence, positive energy, and bright clear eyes were really attractive that people failed to notice his ragged farm clothing.

On his left-hand-side was a basket half-full of his Balut and peanut products while his other hand has a couple of paper bills folded neatly in between his fingers - ready for a quick change.

"Give me two baluts!"

"Four for twenty per pack? Is that an actual promo? Isn't it the same with five pesos per pack?"

"Are you buying or what!? These are the last four packs! (lie)"

"I will take it! Its mine!"

His movement was flawless as he packed the products, received, and gave the change before moving to his next potential customer.

Prrrrt!~

"Next team, ready!"

The referee's voice echoed in the background while Chiko was on his selling spree at the sides. Even the media-men and foreigners were not spared from his selling barrage.

At the stage, the coin toss was done to decide the serving team and it was the team from Bantayan University that got the chance to serve first. On the other hand, Santi got the right to remain on his side of the court.

The linemen were in their positions, cameras on focus, and the noisy huge crowd has started to calm down.

The players on the stage facing the Takraw God have a sudden change in their expressions.

The mocking gazes are gone and were left with nothing but pure focus and determination.

"This is it... This is it... just one score. or maybe more. But..."

"What is this overwhelming pressure? My knees won't stop shaking!?"

"Crap, I wanted to pee so bad."

Unfortunately, an unexplainable pressure seems to be holding them back.

The sepak takraw field is similar to badminton's double-sized court. It has a total area of 13.4 X 6.1 meters with a service circle in the middle of each side where the Tekong stood when doing the serve.

At the corner of each at the centerline, a quarter circle is drawn where the Feeder or tosser stay while the Spiker or killer stood on the opposite side.

The match has finally started and the heart of the players are beating madly. The game is only played in one set due to the number of long queues. Thus, the first side to reach 15 points win.

The feeder held the Takraw synthetic rubber ball with both his hands and made meaningful eye-to-eye contact with the Tekong in the center of their field.

The Tekong raised his hand over his head level and gave the ready signal to the Feeder. Gently but surely, the ball was tossed at a perfect spike-serving angle which the Tekon gladly received with all his might.

His right leg swung behind before hitting the ball with an overhead kick.

"Take this! Takraw God!" The tekong player beckoned in his mind.

PANG!~

The crisp echoing spike-serve sent the takraw ball towards Santi's side with a perfect curving dive.

The ball safely passed the net in the middle at an estimated speed of 45 to 48 km per hour which was a little hard for the nearby eyes to follow.

The crowd was silent while the serving team was satisfied. The ball safely reached the opponent's corner at a spot that is difficult for a one-man team to receive.

Their eyes could only be hopeful for a while though because the next moment, Santi's unbelievable agility brought him to the landing spot, bounced the ball back with a graceful knee catch, and followed by a toss just enough to reach the head level before showing why he is called the Takraw God - his unstoppable killer moves.

Chiko's attention could not help but appreciate the beautiful kung-fu like cartwheel spike. Not just him but everyone in the gym was mesmerized at the Takraw God's graceful yet powerful killing attack.

Santi's body was beautifully very solid but amazingly light.

As if time has slowed down for the ball, Santi's figure suddenly jumped, swiftly turning to have his back facing the hard cement floor. His arms were like a flail to give him balance and momentum while his other feet followed arching on the air like a catapult - hitting the ball at a perfect time, perfect angle, and perfect force.

It was like a momentary beautiful art sculpture in the middle of the air.

WHAPANNNG!~

There was a slight shake in the air.

True to his name as the Takraw God, Santi sent back the ball with overwhelming power.

The receiving players on the other hand were shocked and just stood there like an electrified duck.

"It was different when you are facing it."

"Agh- sh*t"

"That's a normal spike?"

The three of them were glued on the spot. As they were saying, it was completely different when the pressure was on you and the player was you.

The ball forcefully landed before their very eyes and they could not even react.

"Prrrrt! Score!" the referee confirmed Santi's point.

Following the alternating three serving rules, the team from the Bantayan University tried again for the second round of their turn.

Unfortunately, no matter how good their spike serve was, it turns out to be futile in front of the Takraw God.

WHAPAANNG!~

"Score! 2-0!"

WHAPAAAANGGG!~

"Score! 3-0!"

Each serve was only returned with an even stronger spike. While the team was starting to doubt their abilities; the crowd, media, and Chiko were also enjoying the beautiful performance.

The first 3 points were, as expected, by Santi. And finally, the ball was in his hand, and it's finally his turn to serve.

"My turn. Watch." Santi said in English. The opposing teams immediately switch to defensive positions near each other forming a horizontal line in the middle.

Everyone's gaze was locked at the famous figure in the middle including the bright and energetic Balut vendor. Though Chiko has no interest in playing the Sepak Takraw sport, he happens to love the amazing performance especially the Takraw God's cartwheel spikes.

He can't help but recite the movements in his head.

Santi self-served by throwing the ball really high just above his head. His knee suddenly bent while his right foot stepped outside the service circle stretched like a cocked gun ready to fire.

Then it happened.

Standing behind the Bantayan University players, Chiko's eye glowed like a gem as he watched in full detail the Takraw God's famous spike-serve known to have a 95% chance of scoring.

WHOPAAANNG!~

A faint yellow line streak was created as the ball passed the net safely at a speed reaching 58km/h.

The receiving player in the middle failed to react properly as he instinctively ducked to dodge the bullet-like ball.

Chiko was still in a daze of appreciation of the amazing kick performed by Santi when he realized something was wrong.

Zeooong~

The ball had landed perfectly inside the safe line but the power behind it was as still as strong as before! As a result, the ball continued forcefully towards the rear crowd - more specifically towards the balut vendor!

"Sh*t! I'm gonna die!" Chiko instinctively thought. Fortunately, the ball was spinning fast and the curved trajectory avoided his face.

Only it hit his special Balut and peanut products.

"Whew. Thank God." Chiko heaved a sigh of relief that his face was spared from the ball of destruction.

However, the moment his eyes gazed at his basket containing the Balut eggs, his face became the Face of Ultimate Distortion.

"My Baluaaooot!"

Seeing the messy takraw ball responsible for his crushed product rolling out of his basket, Chiko's math-idiot brain became a temporary automatic calculator.

"One..two..fifteen pieces are gone! Multiply by twenty-five pesos each is three seventy-five pesos gone out of my gross income! That means I have to wait twenty days for the next batch of ducks to lay eggs in order to cover for the broken baluts, excluding traveling costs and taxes. That means, my tuition savings won't make it for the school opening next month. That means I...I cant go to school this year.."

Chiko's eyes were flashing red. His mind was out of his control and his veins are throbbing in anger.

"that means grandma is gonna kill me," he mumbled spiritlessly. A picture of an old woman bathed in flame while holding a deadly killer wooden slipper for spanking horrifies his mind.

Back at the stage, Santi was not aware of the damage he has caused to the poor vendor. Now that the ball was dirty, he nudged at the organizer as they prepared a new ball to use for the game.

But just when Santi was about to receive the new ball, his instinct suddenly felt an unusual vibration in the air.

His eyes traced the unfamiliar feeling and it landed on the ragged balut vendor at the other end of the court.

His instincts warned him of danger.

Chiko's aura changed from a lively salesman to a flaming beast of hell. His usual bright eyes now resembled that of a hungry demon and a scary aura made those people nearby move away from him.

"What the…" Santi mumbled with a little interest.

A poor-looking Filipino street vendor is currently oozing a vengeful aura towards him. Not to mention, it was energy full of killing intent.

"Hey, you! Yes, you! Mader paker!" Chiko shouted loudly in English as he pointed at the Takraw God standing in the middle. His rage was boiling clearly in his body while Santi gazed back with a cold insulting eyes.

"Aren't you gonna say sorry and pay your damages?! You owe me three hundred seventy-five pesos! No. Make it four hundred for the peanuts and taxes and fees!"

Santi could not help but laugh at the absurd request of the shabby balut vendor.

"Hahahaha! And what if I dont? It's just a stupid egg. Who eats those disgusting balut anyway." Seeing one of the baluts that rolled in his direction, Santi quickly raised his foot and crushed it with utter disgust and mockery.

Hearing Santi's reply and seeing the poor balut being crushed under his foot, Chiko's switch was finally flipped.

"You dare to insult my proud product? Our Philippine Balut!? Then why don't you pay me with your teeth instead!?"

Chiko's mind went loose. His feet stomped the rolling Takraw ball under his feet and it bounced upward just above his head.

What followed next was shocking for the Takraw God - and to the world.

Chiko's body swiftly executed a cartwheel spike - not just any ordinary cartwheel spike, but a replica of Santi's own cartwheel style.

"What the-" Santi could not believe his eyes.

What everyone doesn't know is that his cartwheel spike was not an ordinary one. A special procedure and body training need to be accomplished in order to complete its perfect execution.

With careful study and modification, he had perfected his movements without any unnecessary gestures while at the same time, maximizing the efficiency of his force and momentum.

There is a proper breathing space, proper jump position and spinning queue, the leg raise and right foot swing and lastly, the safe and balanced timing. They were all perfected by Santi and were confident that no one else could do it but himself.

Except for this time.

WHAPAAAANG!~

The ball accelerated towards his handsome face in the blink of an eye and Santi knew he needs to avoid it.

"How dare you.."

The sad and unexpected news is that Santi could not move his body.

"What!? Is this-!?" Santi could not believe it himself.

"The King's Suppression!? That stupid vendor could use it against me!?"

In a span of half a second, Santi tried his best to move but he felt like his muscles were frozen. His usual breathing pattern was distracted while his reaction dulled.

It is safe to say that he is currently having a taste of his own medicine.

"Not only did he replicated my spike but also the essence behind it?"

The reason that normal players could not stand against Santi is because of the energy of his King's Suppression.

Specifically, it was not a special move but an accumulated overwhelming presence that generated a talent suppressing energy. The natural energy of pure mental dominance is created when facing the best player in the world.

It is like how your mind will instinctively suppress yourself from resisting the power of the absolute beast.

Those players near him would unknowingly absorb this energy and would feel a temporary delay in their reaction, judgment and even increase muscle fatigue.

Those who could resist his King's Suppression around the world could only be counted by two hands.

As a result, the majority of the players would lose miserably against The Takraw God. unless one has an unbreakable will and overwhelming metal resistance, the King's Suppression would be the first wall one has to break in order to defeat Santi.

"Interesting.." Santi was in awe instead of being infuriated.

A technique that he mastered himself was actually being used against him this time. It has been a long time since he experiences such a feeling.

"Finally a new challenger."

PAAAANG!

The world was in shock but silent as the sound of the crispy balut-flavored sepak takraw ball smacked the smooth and handsome face of the legendary figure called the Takraw God.