His first match was against a random player with a fancy legendary cue. In the past, Marcus would have played safe, relied on the guide, and hoped for a mistake. Now, he looked at the table. His opponent left him a razor-thin cut on the 2-ball, frozen on the long rail. The game's guideline showed a dotted path that barely grazed the pocket—a 50/50 shot. Most players would bank it. Marcus didn't even pause. He pulled back, visualized the ghost line from his trainer, and delivered a stroke as pure as a piano key. The cue ball kissed the 2-ball, which rolled slowly, kissed the far jaw, dropped perfectly into the pocket, and drew back three inches for perfect shape on the 3. His opponent spammed the "Nice shot!" emoji—but it felt sarcastic, disbelieving.
Marcus typed back: " I did. "