"So, I think that's enough for today," I offered as I looked outside the window, only to see a certain unwelcome blue hue, signaling the morning while also telling me that, for the second day in a row, I had completely skipped sleep. Though I didn't need the sun to tell me that, because the dullness of my mind and the exhaustion on my body informed me of that.

"He says that's enough, you monster," Carter answered, though his smile was more honest than his words. "It took me three months to learn all the stuff you have memorized in a night! If you continue to learn like that, you'll steal my job even if I try to block you."

"It's not that complicated compared to all those chess openings," I countered, more than happy to blame chess for my abnormal capabilities. It wasn't even completely wrong, as it gave me the discipline to aggressively memorize the various player formations and tactics with great attention to detail.

Yet, without the benefits of the System, I could not have a hope of memorizing a tenth of all the plays I had committed to my memory. Traits didn't improve my memory noticeably, but the amazing combination of Strategy, Tactics, and Pattern recognition allowed me to break down the tactical roots of most of the formations relatively easily. It was like learning to do the sums with five-digit numbers as a child, intimidating to anyone that didn't understand the logic, yet trivial once the trick was discovered.

Of course, it wasn't the perfect analogy, as, even with the assistance of the Traits, football was hardly the simplest sport to analyze, but it certainly held true up to a level.

"It's not complicated, he says," Carter murmured even as he slapped my shoulder, which stung hard enough to dispel my sleep. "That's more than enough studying for today, and we only have ten minutes before the training starts. Try to do your best. Coach definitely hates quitters. If you can impress the coach in the morning, we might even have a chance of getting a few minutes of play time toward the garbage time."

"So, you're confident that our offense will play good enough to make the last quarter unnecessary," I said with a smirk.

"Yeah," he answered, unable to keep his laugh down. "If they start giving points for interceptions, we'll definitely win overwhelmingly."

"Good point, pick-sixes should count for us, after all, it's our quarterbacks that's throwing them."

"Certainly—" he started, only to stop, because we found ourselves face to face with several offensive players taking the same corridor, including the very familiar face Kevin. And, considering we were not bothering to keep our voice down as we joked around the expected performance. "We were just talking about the amazing performance you're expected to deliver," Carter said.

"I heard," Kevin said, first to answer. He wasn't the only angry player, but he was certainly the angriest. Understandable, considering a great number of explicit scenes with me and his ex currently filling the web. And considering the previous narrative, delivered by his current girlfriend, was Megan was frigid, it was certainly not helping his general manliness reputation. "However, do you think that a garbage that's only fit for practice squad could play in a real game?"

I recognized the glint in his eyes. It was the anger of a man who needed the slightest excuse to start swinging.

Too bad for him I had no intention of giving him the excuse he was seeing. Not because I didn't want to opportunity to swing a few times. It wasn't even the current disadvantage in numbers that kept me back. It wouldn't be the first fight I had to deal with such a disparity. Yet, I wasn't stupid enough to throw the first punch in a corridor filled with security cameras.

Making him throw that punch, however, was much more interesting, especially since I still missed my rust bucket.

"He's right, you know," I said to Carter, making sure to sound casual, making everyone look at me in shock, though only Carter had a calculating glint on his gaze. After a long evening filled with endless studying, it wasn't surprising for him to get a sense of my personality, just like I generated a sense for his, enough to guess that I wouldn't retreat that easily.

"Coward," one of the other players murmured dismissively, not even bothering to keep his voice low.

"It's very difficult to get a defensive starter position," I murmured. "Maybe I should try out for the offensive team instead. At worst, I should be able to get the backup quarterback position." Then, my smirk widened as I turned to Kevin. "It certainly wouldn't be the first thing I took from you, right?" I said.

The anger flashed in his gaze. "I'll kill you," he growled as he threw himself forward, but one of his offensive teammates proved too smart, and grabbed his arm before the punch could connect. I didn't even bother raising my arm to defend. I noted that Carter took a slight step to the side, to ensure he wasn't in the line of fire.

It didn't surprise me. With the draft just a couple months away, he certainly didn't have the luxury of receiving disciplinary action.

Still, it was a good reminder that teammates didn't necessarily have my back under all circumstances. Carter was not in a position he would sacrifice anything for me.

"Oh, I'm shaking in fear," I murmured in a deadpan tone before I turned to Carter. "Shall we go, we don't want to be late for the meeting."

"Don't go anywhere, you coward," Kevin shouted angrily, but that was all he could do with his teammates holding him, whispering to him to calm down. I didn't react to his declarations, treating his anger like a childish tantrum.

"That was dangerous," Carter commented, though only after we were reasonably far away from them. "Kevin has a strong family, it's not a good idea to antagonize him that much for a girl."

I shrugged. "He started it, and it's not like I can give him what he wants. He's going to be angry even if I dumped Megan and apologized publicly. And since he's going to be an enemy, I prefer an angry one to a calm one."

Carter nodded, yet changed the question soon after. "During the training, be as serious as possible. Some fucks around during the training and assume the coach doesn't see them, then get surprised when they find themselves sitting on the sidelines for the whole match."

"Noted," I said. Although that was my plan, confirmation was certainly welcome.

"And after training, skip the classes to go back to your room. Arrange for some extra food, sleep, and maybe even get a session with the team masseuses. It won't help you to give a nice show in the morning training, only to fall off a cliff during the evening training. Today is your first proper day, and we need to impress the coach to even have a chance for you to play during the garbage time."

"Sure, I'll make sure I rested properly," I said, carefully not mentioning that I had neither the intention nor the luxury of sleeping for so long. I had a lot of things to do.

I need to continue working on my program to catch the news, for example, which was not a simple thing to achieve. It would probably require days, maybe even weeks, of dedicated work to turn it into halfway usable.

And more importantly, that wasn't even the only — or the most urgent — computer task I needed to complete. I needed to visit the museum to see the little keylogger I had installed during my previous trip and had managed to get any administrative credentials necessary for me to complete my little hacking adventure.

Improving my traits was certainly nice, but not at the cost of completely ignoring the clues about the forced mystery I found myself dealing with, or erasing the tracks the others could use to find Sunset College.

Maybe that wouldn't be enough, but there was no harm in risking that.

With that, we fell silent as we walked quickly to the locker room. The training was about to start, and we certainly didn't want to be late.

Coach Bill didn't seem like a guy that would appreciate his players being late.