I Really Am Just a Substitute – CH36

Chapter 36

Online, the earlier playful cheer was still causing waves of chatter, even as the match heated up:

[That chant was so embarrassing, but they shouted it so confidently! /Kawaii/]

[You can feel their morale spiking through the screen.]

[A whole flurry of flashy moves, and still down 0-2…]

[Seriously? That chant does nothing for scoring points. Just for show!]

[Guess the rumors about internal conflict were fake. They look pretty close.]

[Don’t be fooled — even teams with tension can shout a chant together.]

A few haters clung to the “infighting” rumors, spamming the live chat.

But true fans ignored the noise, trusting what they saw —

After receiving the pass, every spiker kept perfect rhythm, calm and ready, waiting for the set.

On the court, it felt like a giant spiderweb was forming.

At the center of that web was Ning Zhou, holding the strings. Every thread linked to an attack point, weaving a meticulous offensive system.

The players were threads. Ning Zhou guided the power at their ends…

How could such cohesion possibly be the “dysfunctional team” the trolls claimed?

Even Team T’s players were confused—How could this lineup of mostly bench players show more unity than the starters?

“Stay calm! Adapt as needed!”

Abu rallied his teammates, sharpening his focus as his mental duel with Ning Zhou began.

In volleyball, the setter and the blockers are always playing a game of wits — predicting, reading, counter-predicting — a battle of endless mind games.

Ning Zhou and Abu were no different…

Abu’s usual strategy of relying on opponent data had a high success rate. But this time, his opponent was something else — mysterious, unpredictable.

Ning Zhou. Barely 1.8 meters tall, his setting form was fluid and relaxed. Abu couldn’t read his trajectory at all from body posture.

Worse, Ning Zhou’s profile was infuriatingly sparse — one detail stood out: He doesn’t attack on the second touch.

So Abu edged a bit closer toward Yu Bai, reminding himself over and over: Don’t follow the setter. He won’t attack second-touch…

Don’t jump early. Don’t jump. Don’t—Abu’s feet were rooted to the floor, waiting.

And then, right before his eyes, Ning Zhou brushed the ball delicately — a soft, floating set straight upward, with almost no horizontal movement.

Abu froze. What?

A standing set? Has this backup setter lost his mind!?

And then — like a flash — Ning Zhou was gone, having already vacated his spot after the pass.

That’s when Abu noticed Nie Feiang — already in the air, hand crashing down on the ball.

When did this backup middle blocker even jump!?

While Abu was still “rooted,” Nie Feiang smashed the ball down, straight over his head.

A lightning-fast quick attack!

The ball slammed into the court, echoing like thunder. Their so-called “impenetrable wall” of blockers looked like a joke.

And the scouting report?

The information on Ning Zhou’s profile is correct: Ning Zhou doesn’t attack on the second touch.

The information on Nie Feiang’s profile is correct: Nie Feiang’s attacks are lightning-fast.

Abu never could’ve imagined that putting those two scouting reports together would create a paradox — the ultimate spear and shield —

One told him not to jump early, while the other said that if he didn’t jump early, there was no way to block it…

Who the hell plays a freakish close-range quick attack like this!?

Abu wanted to curse.

“The ball’s down, down, down!” As the scorer, Nie Feiang looked more surprised than anyone. He grabbed Ning Zhou in a hug. “Zhou Zhou, praise me! I didn’t step on your foot!”

“Mhm, mhm, amazing!”

Ning Zhou patted Nie Feiang on the back, turned his head, and cast a sideways glance at Abu. His eyes curved slightly at the corners before he casually looked away…

Abu, still frozen in place, felt his heart sink halfway —

Ning Zhou had done that on purpose! He’d guessed that Abu wouldn’t watch the second touch and deliberately set the ball to the same spot.

First round of psychological warfare between the two: Abu, utterly defeated…

“Beeep—”

1:2, the Chinese substitute team finally scored their first point.

Chat comments:

[I blinked and missed it — how did they score?]

[Same, no clue what just happened…]

[Don’t feel bad. Even the No.3 blocker in T-country didn’t jump. It’s not us being slow — that play was just illegal. /shivering/]

[The clumsy giant who kept messing up finally got our first point — redemption achieved!]

[Why is our middle blocker spiking over the setter’s head???]

[Did Ning Zhou even touch the ball? I swear the pass flew to the net and in the next second — boom, quick spike!]

[They almost ran into each other! So dangerous! Can’t they just stand further apart!?]

Inside the commentary booth, Tong Rong read the chat messages one by one:

“Mr. Zhang, I’ve watched countless men’s volleyball matches and seen every kind of quick attack, but this coordination between Ning Zhou and Nie Feiang — is this some new tactic in the volleyball world?”

Zhang Kang replied, “Rather than saying it’s a new tactic, I’d say only those two can pull it off right now.”

“Close-range quicks are common, but Nie Feiang’s jump point is even closer to the setter than a typical close-range quick. It creates a surprising blitz effect.”

Tong Rong gasped, “That’s insane! Isn’t that an unbeatable technique?”

“Not necessarily.” Zhang Kang tapped the mic lightly. “In terms of speed, it’s still slower than a second touch attack. And in terms of power, Nie Feiang has to hold back because Ning Zhou is right in front of him.”

“So if the opponent adapts, times their block, they can stop or dig it up… meaning this scoring method only works once or twice?” Tong Rong mused.

Zhang Kang neither agreed nor denied it. His brows twitched slightly —

Ning Zhou was a clever setter. If he developed such a seemingly “gimmicky” skill, there had to be another purpose…

On T-country’s bench.

“What the hell!?” The head coach’s eyes widened as he saw the hyper-close quick attack. He turned and glared at his assistant. “What’s with your scouting report!?”

The assistant broke into a cold sweat. “The report is accurate. Their substitute setter really doesn’t run second-touch attacks…”

“Then tell me why that set is just as violent and sudden as a second touch!”

The coach sucked in a harsh breath, muttering, “First they made a string of errors to make us underestimate their substitute middle, and now they’ve smacked us in the face…”

“Abu!”

The coach waved him over urgently.

“That ball relies entirely on their middle’s bounce and speed. Don’t underestimate him — tighten up your block on that guy!”

“But coach…” Abu hesitated, “I feel like their substitute setter…”

“Don’t worry about the setter!” the coach barked. “Yu Bai rotated to the back row. Just focus on shutting down that middle!”

“…Okay.”

Abu took the instructions to heart, though unease still gnawed at him.

“Beeep—”

Yu Bai rotated to the back row, stepping up to the service line.

Abu crouched low at the net, watching China’s offense carefully —

Attack option one: the front-row setter.

No need to consider that; Ning Zhou doesn’t hit second touches.

Attack option two: the middle who’d scored with that hyper-close quick earlier.

Very high probability they’ll go for it again — keep an eye on him!

Attack option three: Yu Bai, the server.

He hadn’t tried a back-row attack in the first set, probably not confident in it. Less of a threat.

Attack option four: the opposite hitter in the back row.

Abu blanked for a moment — almost forgot they had an opposite hitter on court…

His eyes drifted toward the back row, where Song Hanrun hunched his shoulders, muttering to himself like a nagging grandma from the village.

Could that guy really run a back-row attack?

Abu hesitated for a few seconds and ruled out the fourth option… for now.

Attack option five: the blonde outside hitter who just rotated to the front row.

A substitute as well — Abu didn’t recognize him, so he focused carefully on observation.

Xu Zichang, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear, waving silently at a courtside camera:

Mom, Dad, that guy who scored just now is my best bro, Nie Feiang. Isn’t he just as handsome as me?

Abu: …

How could anyone keep their guard up against such a goofy team…

Why is it that none of China’s substitutes act normal!?

Abu wiped the cold sweat from his brow, realizing that the coach’s advice made perfect sense —

Among those five attack points, the middle hitter was still the most likely to be targeted…

Of course, all of that assumed one condition — that China even got the chance to attack.

This point started with China’s serve, meaning T-country would have the first attack opportunity.

And the reason Abu’s mind was on defense rather than offense?

The server — Yu Bai.

Even after an entire set, T-country’s receivers still hadn’t adapted to Yu Bai’s vicious serves…

Abu braced himself, mentally dropping from attacker to defender, as the arena held its collective breath — waiting for Yu Bai’s cannon of a serve.

Yu Bai, absent-minded, rubbed the floor with the sole of his shoe. Feeling that it wasn’t slippery underfoot, he began to serve.

No matter how many times you saw his jump, you couldn’t help but be in awe of the explosive power in his Achilles tendon.

Like an eagle patrolling its airspace, his arms spread wide, casting a shadow over his opponent’s heart, his presence utterly intimidating…

“Bang!”

The “eagle” struck, sending out a beautifully curved “eagle ball”…

Yu Bai’s hand barely covered the ball. The volleyball sliced through the air and flew beyond the advertising boards. Spectators in that section scattered like startled birds, afraid of being hit.

Beeeeep!

Yu Bai’s serve was a fault.

1:3

Abu: …

Why had he wasted so much brainpower strategizing?

Spectator comments:

[Lucky fans in the stands today—about to be “blessed” by a flying ball… /ascend/]

[Honestly, the ball loses its force flying that far. It’s just that Yu Bai’s serve looked terrifying. /laugh-cry/]

[I was hoping to rack up points during Yu Bai’s serve rotation, and he fires the first ball out like a cannon…]

[During my college serving test, I couldn’t even clear the net. This buzzcut guy smacks it straight into the stands. /legend/]

The China team struggled to hold back their laughter.

Nie Feiang’s shoulders kept trembling as he covered his mouth, then shoved Ning Zhou toward Yu Bai and whispered, “Zhou Zhou, say something. If I laugh out loud, he’ll probably pound me…”

Ning Zhou forced himself to speak. “Yu Bai, save some strength for the spikes later.”

“Pfft!”

Nie Feiang and the others could barely suppress their grins.

Yu Bai, face dark, returned to his position for the first pass.

China’s strongest serving rotation came to an anticlimactic end.

Now Abu’s team officially switched to defense.

Abu pointed at Xu Zichang, Nie Feiang, and Song Hanrun of the China team and said seriously to his teammates, “Mark them closely!”

Feigning focus for a while, he stole a glance at the other side. Sure enough, Ning Zhou was watching their movements intently…

Abu’s lips remained neutral, but his heart leapt with delight:

Gotcha!

What the China team didn’t know was that the T-country team’s on-court chatter was just an act. Their real plays were delivered using coded signals from their coach.

By pretending to keep an eye on every offensive point, they were actually setting up to block only Nie Feiang’s ultra-quick near-net attacks.

Beeeeep!

The T-country serve wasn’t as powerful as Yu Bai’s.

This one flew toward Yu Bai’s receiving area, but the ball came slower, allowing Ning Yang to shoulder Yu Bai aside and snag the pass.

“Zhou Zhou!”

Ning Zhou nodded, welcoming his favorite slightly high first pass.

Abu locked his eyes on Nie Feiang—As Ning Zhou prepared to jump set, Nie Feiang had already stepped up early, hiding behind him.

As expected!

Abu’s eyes lit up. Matching Nie Feiang’s movement, he bent his knees, ready to jump for the block.

This time I’ve got it! There’s no way you’re getting through Position 3!

Thump!

The crisp sound of Ning Zhou’s set rang out, and in an instant, the ball changed trajectory.

Abu jumped just a fraction of a second later than Nie Feiang.

As Nie Feiang swung his arm, Abu positioned his hands for a perfect block at Position 3, textbook form.

Got it!

Arms straight, he braced for the satisfying sting of the ball hitting his palms—

But instead, he felt only… a light breeze.

Abu: ?

A breeze?

As his body descended, he looked up, locking eyes with Nie Feiang.

Nie Feiang, arm swinging through the air, looked even more stunned, as if to say, “Wait, that ball wasn’t for me?”

Abu’s pupils shrank violently as he whipped his head around—

Where’s the ball!?

“Hehe!”

Xu Zichang, facing only a single blocker, easily smashed a sharp diagonal.

With no double block in place, the open line made the spike effortless. Xu Zichang scored his first point since stepping onto the court.

“Dad! Mom!”

Xu Zichang, with great directional awareness, dashed toward the camera, shouting, “Did you see that? I nailed it!”

Abu: …

Spectator comments:

[Holy—Ning Zhou’s sets are lightning fast! Faster than Shao Qiu’s by a beat—I couldn’t even track the ball!]

[Not just fast, the disguise was insane. I didn’t realize it was going to Position 4 until the spike landed.]

[LOL, the third-ranked blocker just jumped for nothing!]

[I thought for sure that was going to be a quick middle attack. /brain lag/]

“What a beautiful point!”

The live stream played a slow-motion replay while commentator Tong Rong analyzed, “Nie Feiang’s movement was just a decoy. After drawing Abu up, Ning Zhou set a clean wide ball, letting Xu Zichang spike it home—perfect coordination!”

Zhang Kang chuckled. “These kids finally got into rhythm and are starting to show what they can really do…”

“This tactic is brilliant!” Tong Rong marveled. “With the middle drawing the block, the outside hitter gets so much breathing room.”

Buzzzzz!

The T-country coach called the first timeout of the set.

The buzzer broke the on-court momentum. Zhang Kang sighed, half amused, “A timely timeout by the T-country coach. Now let’s see how they adjust…”

During the break—

Abu rushed to the sidelines, leaning toward the coach. “Coach, I think their backup setter can read minds!”

“?” The coach, already irritated, frowned. “Why do you think that?”

“When I got faked out, I swear he smiled at me—like he could see straight through me…”

The coach’s mouth twitched. “Don’t talk nonsense! We just got outplayed!”

Abu froze.

The coach huffed. “They’ve never used that kind of quick set in public before. They showed it now, not just to score, but to make the bait even more tempting!”

“So they predicted I’d focus on blocking the opposite hitter, and that’s why they deliberately showed me that kind of play?” Ab impatiently scratched his head. “Coach, what do we do now? Who should I switch to block?”

The coach snatched the data sheet from the assistant coach and slapped it against his palm.

“Change the blocking strategy. The substitute setter from the China team could set the ball anywhere. Follow his sets and block accordingly!”

“Got it!”

After the timeout, Ab switched to a different blocking style.

After just a few rallies, Ning Zhou noticed the change—Reactive blocking. No early jumps, just reading and chasing the setter’s toss.

This kind of blocking left little room for mind games. Ab wasn’t guessing where Ning Zhou would set anymore; instead, he abandoned his instincts and reacted flexibly.

“Heh.”

Ning Zhou smiled faintly.

He loved this type of reactive “obedient blocker.” In his previous life, Ning Zhou often faced blockers like Abu. Tall, average foot speed, but with rock-solid fundamentals—if they got their hands in the right spot, no matter how much power the attacker had, they could shut the ball down.

But Yu Bai and Abu were incompatible.

Yu Bai tended to attack the power line—exactly the area Abu was covering. That’s why they struggled to open up the first set…

But Ning Zhou wasn’t afraid of Abu.

When Abu blocked using a “follow the hitter, not the ball” approach, Ning Zhou had to worry about him predicting a few sets correctly.

But now that Abu switched to reactive blocking, his foot speed simply couldn’t keep up with Ning Zhou’s setting pace…

“Sorry, bad pass!”

Ning Yang mishandled the serve receive, the ball dipping low to Ning Zhou’s waist with a wicked spin.

Dropping to his knees, Ning Zhou went for the dig. His lowered angle limited his vision—

He couldn’t scan the whole block like usual, so he locked onto Abu instead—

Abu had those typical long African legs, well-proportioned, lean muscles, no bulk.

A leg type perfect for reading movement trends…

With just a glance, Ning Zhou saw Abu’s knees shift toward Yu Bai’s side.

Bracing his core, Ning Zhou tightened his arms and, without even looking, sent a blind back set—

The ball flew to position two, away from Abu’s block.

Song Hanrun, now rotated to the front row, was still on the verge of fainting from nerves. His legs felt weak, and he delivered a feeble line shot. Fortunately, Ning Zhou had already pulled the blocker away, leaving him with a single block to face. The hit might have been soft, but it landed cleanly for the point.

Chatroom Comments:

[He set that while kneeling?! Ning Zhou’s core strength is insane!]

[When he leaned back to dig, his jersey lifted… too bad it’s not in HD, couldn’t get a clean screenshot of his waist.]

[Doesn’t matter. That glimpse of white thigh between his shorts and knee pads is enough to make me drool!]

[Damn, he shook off the middle blocker with that adjustment set. Kneeling back set—what kind of monster skill is that?]

[Already forgot our opposite hitter even exists…]

[My grandma at 80 could hit harder than him, weakling!]

[What’s his name again… scored a point and still invisible. /facepalm/]

“Scoring is what matters.” Ning Zhou pulled Song Hanrun up by the wrist, genuinely praising him. “Who says you can’t deliver under pressure? That was a key point.”

Song Hanrun wanted to feel excited but didn’t dare. Sneaking a glance at T-country’s blockers, he asked timidly, “Was that really me? It felt like they just… forgot I existed…”

Ning Zhou paused for a moment. “Doesn’t matter. This point goes on your record.”

Song Hanrun retreated to the sideline, quietly grinning to himself.

Ning Zhou smiled but then suddenly felt a piercing stare.

Turning, he saw Abu gripping the net with one hand, staring straight at him without blinking…

Knowing they didn’t share a language, Ning Zhou flashed a friendly thumbs-up before turning back to celebrate with his teammates.

The mood among his teammates, however, was less cheerful.

Yu Bai, who had been just as certain as Abu that the imperfect pass would go to him, now bristled with irritation. Even as he high-fived Song Hanrun, his demeanor was far from happy…

Song Hanrun flinched, freckles trembling.

“Don’t look at me! If your presence wasn’t so strong that the block kept chasing you, Ning Zhou wouldn’t have set to me…”

Yu Bai’s jaw tightened.

Chen Wenyao instinctively moved between them to prevent any outburst.

“It’s fine, Brother Chen. Yu Bai won’t do anything.” Ning Zhou turned to reassure him. “Don’t be mad, I’ll set to you soon enough.”

Yu Bai gave a vague sigh and turned away, his back a picture of quiet misery.

Chen Wenyao forced a laugh. “Xiao Ning, only you would dare keep using someone like Yu Bai as bait over and over…”

“True.” Ning Yang shrugged. “With any other setter, he’d have started sulking by now.”

Ning Zhou’s conscience pricked. “…Alright, alright. Next ball, I promise I’ll set him.”

“Shh,” Ning Yang whispered. “Quiet down, or the other side will hear you.”

Abu, meanwhile, wasn’t in the mood to eavesdrop on their Chinese chatter.

He grabbed a teammate and shook him hard, growling, “Did you see that? That substitute setter just gave me a thumbs-up to mock me!”

His teammate staggered but managed to stay upright. “Mock you or not, we’re getting played. He’s making us look lost out there…”

“No, something’s off…” Abu muttered, humiliated. “He definitely has mind-reading powers.”

“For real?” The teammate looked shaken. “I’m a firm materialist… but maybe we should test it again next rally?”

Abu nodded, voice low and serious, “Next ball, I won’t block Yu Bai.

If he still tricks me, then that China setter has powers beyond reality!”

In the prime seating area of the stands, a blonde, blue-eyed woman chewed her gum and clicked her tongue.

“Tsk tsk. Look at T-country’s team—can’t even handle China’s bench lineup.”

“Coach,” said the assistant beside her, tablet in hand, recording data nonstop. “Why does T-country’s block suddenly look full of holes? Is China’s substitute setter really that strong?”

“Even if the setter’s feints work once or twice, in the end, it’s still up to the attackers to finish the play.”

The beautiful woman propped her chin in her hand and summarized, “These emerging attackers from the China team are the ones we should really be paying attention to…”

While they were talking, the China team gained another chance to attack.

Yu Bai, exuding dominance, raised his hand, signaling for the ball.

Ning Zhou decisively set the ball to Yu Bai. Surprisingly, Abu stayed frozen in place, and Yu Bai spiked a clean, signature power shot straight down the line…

China scored again.

Abu and one of his teammates hugged each other, shouting something incoherent, looking terrified.

“?” The woman rubbed her ears. “What are they saying?”

The assistant coach listened carefully for a moment. “Sounds like… ‘He’s really reading minds’ and ‘Ordinary people can’t handle that’…”

“What nonsense is that?”

The woman shifted her gaze to Ning Zhou, studying his face carefully.

“That substitute setter really is a bit clever. If he were a character in an Eastern comic, he’d definitely be one of those narrow-eyed guys. Having eyes that big is such a waste…”

Assistant coach: “?”

Just then, the volleyball floated above the net. It landed on the tape, lingered for a split second as if deciding which side fortune favored, and then tipped over to the T team’s court.

After rolling off the net, the ball took an unpredictable curve. The T team players failed to retrieve it, and it hit the floor—A lucky point! China scored again!

A point with a touch of luck always feels more exhilarating.

Ning Zhou jumped in excitement, eyes narrowing into happy crescents as he smiled.

“…” The beautiful coach couldn’t help but smile as well, faint crow’s-feet appearing at the corners of her eyes. “Just an adorably narrow-eyed boy after all.”

The assistant coach wrote “Ning Zhou” on his tablet. “He’ll probably be our opponent in the next match, right?”

The beautiful coach shook her head.

“I know the head coach of the China team, Luo. He’s very good at using his players. If that substitute setter were really ready, Luo would’ve put him in long ago. Why wait until the second set of the last, life-or-death match of the group stage?”

The assistant hesitated. “But aside from being a bit short, his performance so far has been impressive…”

“You’re too naive. There must be a reason he hasn’t been used earlier.”

The coach’s lips curved. “Wanna bet? Even if this substitute setter helps turn the game around, who do you think Luo will use in the next set? The starter or the sub?”