Striking balls 2: Electric bugaloo!

Dodge Ball!

Apparently, having a student sent to the infirmary wasn't grounds to revise the choice of activity. (Not that John had minded very much being sent there given what happened because of it.)

Something weird happened this time: Frank wasn't chosen as one of the team leaders, and after the rounds of selection were over, John and him ended in the same team.

"Come on, get moving, I want to see balls flying around!" shouted the Coach before blowing his whistle.

"At least this way, he won't be able to shoot at me. But then neither could I shoot at him... Well, of course I don't need to be the one throwing the ball to be sure he's hit," thought John, a plan forming in his mind.

First: staying in play. It was rather simple, as his new fighting style gave him stances that made dodging or blocking the red rubber balls childplay. Some light use of Move sent a few balls astray when too many were coming his way at once or corrected the trajectory of his own each time his aim wasn't good enough.

Through some mercy killing strategy, he had eliminated all the weak players from the opposing team, but he did so without hurting them through weak hits. Soon enough, there were only him and Frank in his team, facing Wallace and two other football players.

John had noticed that just like during practice, Frank's friends were throwing him fast balls but the kind that was easy to catch. They made it look like they were always attacking him while sparing him. They weren't so merciful with John. While Frank was able to stay stationary, only catching a ball from time to time (he really had trouble moving around with his huge balls in a tight jockstrap), John was **** to run around and jump to dodge the attacks.

Soon what he waited for was on hand. Wallace had just thrown a really powerful ball, centered on Frank's chest and easy to catch.

John was close enough to his teammate for it to work. He used Charged Strike with electric power, making it sure to stun but to do no damage. He just tapped Frank's back with the palm of his hand and instantly switched to using Move to alter the trajectory of the incoming projectile, making its target go down one or two feet.

Frank, still stunned, could only watch the fast and powerful ball fly towards his crotch and slam on it with its full strength.

Frank bent in half and was in such pain that he could not even shout. He fell on the ground holding his crotch with both hands and biting his lip.

"Wallace! I told you to stop aiming for the crotch. You OK, Frank?" asked the Coach, coming to check on him after what happened.

"I don't think he can talk now, Coach. I wasn't aiming there, I guess my hand slipped on the ball," replied Wallace.

Vanessa had seen what happened and was coming to intervene.

"Frank, stop rolling on the floor, it's ridiculous. Be a man and get up; I'm sure you don't want to make me look like I have a wimp for a boyfriend," she scolded him, showing no compassion towards him and no understanding of how much getting hit in the balls can hurt.

He tried to get up but couldn't, each time caught by the pain.

"I think he needs to get to the infirmary, Coach. I'll bring him there. We have to make sure he can play tomorrow," said Wallace.

"Sure, we can't afford having to change the game plan so close to the match. Go on," said Coach Conroy.

"I'll go with them, just to be sure he is ok," added Vanessa, touching her chest where a small silver key was hanging from a chain under her t-shirt. As she walked away following a limping Frank held up by Wallace, John noticed that her formerly perfect body was already betraying the effects of his previous actions and her condition: there was a lot more ass in those shorts than usual, and it looked fat rather than sexy.

With what happened, the coach had the other members of the football team that were present stop playing and ran some drills for them to see if one of them could maybe replace Frank the next day.

This **** the rest of the class to make new teams, entirely made of normal students (the cheerleaders having opted out, their presence being apparently indispensable to the training drills).

John even ended up as one of the team captains. He was able to pick players rather than having to wait for someone to run out of other people and pick him by default.

And then some sort of miracle happened. With balanced teams of normal teenagers, without any mountain of muscle, well how to say it?

This game was actually pretty fun to play. Everyone was running around, acting as teams rather than cannon fodder for one or two players. People were taken out and then brought back in play and points were marked, but no one was hurt, and the shouts were cries of joy or light grumbling rather than pain or fear.

He didn't use any powers during the rest of the class, except to give away a few more gifts to other students when he had mana to spare. What he had given them wasn't enough to make a great difference against trained sportsmen, they lacked the reflexes for that, but it was a collection of small things that would make their lives a bit better and make them happier. They were all young enough and the changes small enough that no one would find it odd that a few girls would get slightly bigger boobs or would lose a bit of weight. The same for the boys who would get a slight growth spurt either in height or somewhere else.

At the end of the two hours of the PE class, John had sweat a lot but wasn't sore or really tired thanks to Gamer's Body, but he had a lot of fun during that time and wished it could be like that each time.

He had gained 1 strength, 1 agility and 1 endurance due to the exercise. But also 1 intellect for good tactical decisions, 1 wisdom for his team composition and 1 Charisma for the way he led his team to victory thrice in a row.

Never had he been proud going back to the locker room after sport; there's a first time for everything apparently.