The coach blew the whistle.
—First test.
—Speed.
The applicants lined up at the starting line.
—Forty-yard dash.
—One at a time.
The students went one by one.
Some managed decent times.
Others made it clear they simply weren't built for the team.
Coach Brock recorded each result in a notebook without changing his expression.
Cold. Precise. Professional.
Finally…
My turn arrived.
I took my position.
I wasn't going to use magic.
I would only control my strength.
After all…
I didn't want to break any world records on the first day.
The whistle sounded.
I shot forward.
The wind hit my face as I crossed the finish line in just a few seconds.
Silence.
Several students opened their eyes in shock.
—What…?
—That was too fast…
—Has that guy never played before?
The coach looked at the stopwatch.
He wrote something in his notebook.
He said nothing.
But for a moment…
A small smile appeared on his face.
---
—Second test.
—Strength.
This time they had to push a training sled and perform lifting drills.
One by one, the students began.
When my turn came…
I grabbed the sled.
I could have thrown it several meters without effort.
But…
I should lose this test…
No.
Better to stay in the middle.
I can't stand out in everything.
I pushed the sled with controlled strength.
Firm.
Enough for a good result.
Not spectacular.
Not mediocre.
Just… correct.
The coach wrote again in his notebook.
He seemed satisfied.
---
—Third test.
—Agility.
Cones.
Direction changes.
Jumps.
All designed to measure coordination and reaction speed.
I breathed calmly.
And started.
I dodged every obstacle.
Turned.
Jumped.
Changed direction without losing speed.
I crossed the finish line.
Some students began to murmur.
—His reflexes are incredible…
—It looks like he's trained his whole life…
I shrugged.
For someone who had fought monsters…
That was almost easy.
I looked up.
At the far end of the field was Victor.
He wasn't participating in the tests.
He was already part of the team.
As the quarterback, he watched the new applicants alongside some veteran players.
Our eyes met.
Victor smiled confidently.
He still clearly remembered the punch from our first encounter.
And it was obvious he wanted to prove something.
I sighed internally.
Damn…
He's confusing football with American football.
Tch…
He thinks I'm going to take his quarterback position.
I shook my head slightly.
I had no interest in that position.
Besides…
I didn't want unnecessary problems with Victor.
The previous lesson was enough.
I shifted my gaze to the stands.
Madison and Chloe were there.
They were smiling as they watched.
When they noticed me looking, they waved.
I returned the gesture and looked away.
The cheerleaders were also practicing.
Vivian led the formation as captain.
Brittany stood beside her.
A little further back, Sara and Susan practiced a routine.
Everything was going as planned.
Good…
While they carry out their mission…
I'll carry out mine.
---
The whistle sounded again.
—Everyone, gather up!
The applicants formed a line in front of the coach.
Brock crossed his arms.
—We've seen your physical abilities.
His gaze swept over the group.
—Now I want to know what position you want to play.
One by one, they answered.
—Quarterback.
—Running back.
—Linebacker.
—Tight end.
—Wide receiver.
When it was my turn…
The coach looked directly at me.
—And you?
I stayed silent for a moment.
I had considered quarterback…
But that would only create unnecessary rivalry with Victor.
Not worth it.
—I want to try wide receiver.
The coach raised an eyebrow.
—Have you played before?
—No.
—Then you'll have to learn from scratch.
He paused.
—Speed alone isn't enough to be a good receiver.
I nodded.
—I understand.
Brock picked up a football.
He spun it in his hand before tossing it lightly and catching it again.
—Very well.
His tone grew more serious.
—Let's see if you can catch the ball as well as you run.
A small smile appeared on my face.
—I'm ready.
The coach pointed toward the field.
—Receivers, with me.
We'll start with the basics.
I took a deep breath.
It looks like the real training begins now.