Arjun understood something critical at the age of eleven.
Talent was dangerous.
Not because it attracted competition—but because it attracted *authority*.
In Indian cricket, authority did not reward excellence.
It rewarded **obedience, lineage, and silence**.
So Arjun learned to be small.
During academy matches, he stopped playing cover drives unless necessary. He let good balls go. He missed half-chances *on purpose*. He kept his strike rate respectable—but never frightening.
> **Divine Cricket System**
> **Active Control: Manual Suppression (Unlocked)**
> **Performance Output:** 42%
The coaches began to relax around him.
"He's solid," they said.
"Not flashy."
"Won't embarrass us."
That was exactly what Arjun wanted.
Meanwhile, Raghav Sharma—now team vice-captain—played ugly cricket. Slogs. Edges. Missed footwork. But every boundary was celebrated loudly by coaches who wanted to be seen encouraging "confidence."
Arjun watched quietly.
> **Observation:**
> Raghav Sharma – Ceiling Already Visible
At night, Arjun practiced alone.
Shadow batting.
Timing drills.
Mental simulations.
He wasn't training his body.
He was sharpening inevitability.