Like the other traits I had received, enhanced Intimidation wasn't a cure for all. A gaze didn't allow me to send the running backs running away in fear, but it helped me to put a more imposing sight as I positioned myself at the correct spot, waiting for them to rush.

"Blue," called Coach Spencer, and they dashed forward once more. Interestingly, number twenty-four was the target once more, no doubt a favor from Coach Spencer if I was reading his smirk correctly.

After all, for an experienced backup like him, punishing a player that joined the team recently should be a trivial achievement.

To his credit, he charged better this time, realizing I had no intention of making it easy for them to bully me. Yet, even if he did his best to slam his weight against me, it only resulted in an explosive collision. His momentum forced me to take a step back, but luckily, he failed to push forward without putting his knee on the ground.

"It was as light as a mosquito," he said as he pushed his chest out, trying to look confident, though I was sure I wasn't the only one that caught the weakness of his blustering tone.

Another win for me, I thought even as I glared at him, once again not bothering to say a word. Trash talking worked to anger them, but the silence was much better in unsettling people.

For all his faults, Coach Spencer wasn't a complete idiot, and realized his player's confidence was floundering. So, for the next attempt, it was the number twenty-two that was the target.

He was fully serious, and even as I was prepared for it, it didn't go as well as I hoped. Just as I was trying to tackle him, he took a cross-step like he was about to juke forward. It was a trap.

It was too late when I realized that, and I was already throwing my weight to my right. He continued trucking, catching me in mid-move, his shoulder collapsing against my chest.

My feet lost contact with the ground as I had the dubious pleasure of unassisted flight for a fleeting second, interrupted only when my back hit against the turf. The collusion was painful enough to make me glad for the mouthpiece, allowing me to squeeze my teeth and hide my pain.

My movements weren't exactly smooth as I stood up, but not crying in pain as I forced myself up was still positive. As I pushed myself up, I turned my gaze toward twenty-four, wordlessly promising the same pain to him.

It took a while for Coach Spencer to allow it. The next three attempts forced me to fight against twenty-two, though, aware that he optimized delivering pain, I deliberately stayed conservative.

Even if it allowed me to actually fake a very successful switch to free from my control area, freeing him for an effortless touchdown.

After that trick, the Intent I was receiving — already reduced thanks to my earlier flight — dropped even more, yet for the next attempt, I was able to read his fake accurately. I wasn't a moron he could trick through the same attempt again and again, even though the cheers and insults of the offensive team were getting rather overwhelming.

Then, what I was waiting for happened. Coach Spencer called blue, forcing me to target twenty-four.

"It's time for a trick of my own," I murmured even as I made a move toward twenty-two like I had been successfully tricked, only to forcefully pivot a step later.

My target, expecting a quick success, was not prepared for a painful flying side tackle. He hit the floor painfully, rolling on the ground.

The sudden silence of the offensive team was beautiful, and the cheers of the defensive team weren't too far away, clearly not enjoying the idea of one of them being bullied obviously.

"Maybe we shouldn't mess with the chess players anymore," shouted one of them, though it took a second for me to recognize it was Thad that shouted, the resulting laughter distracting me immensely. It only highlighted the humiliation of the poor running back, taught a lesson by a 'weak' nerd.

I might have been slightly annoyed by Thad's words, but the sudden spike of Intent was more than enough to destroy that annoyance. Instead, I turned my gaze at my poor victim, still doing his best to stand up after the unexpectedly painful hit, even though my attention was on channeling the Intent I was receiving.

The amount truly surprised me, even more than the sudden flood I had received after my pool adventure with Megan. I waited until it settled, before I reached and triggered the System again.

[Strategy III, acquired]

[Strength I, acquired]

The increase in strategy was certainly welcome, though I had a feeling I could easily trace that to Thad mentioning that I was a chess player once more in a place close enough to the live stream he arranged.

Yet, the real win was the Strength had received. It was hard to measure the direct impact immediately, but considering the general benefit of Stamina and Recovery, I expected something between ten to twenty percent.

It didn't sound as impressive, but considering I was benching a touch above two hundred and twenty under optimal condition, and a top-tier linebacker player usually benched around three hundred, an additional twenty percent was a very significant increase, the kind that required months of dedicated training and good genetics.

Just in case I had been measuring it wrongly, I didn't push myself to the limit during my next confrontation with number twenty-two, yet, I managed to take him down, keeping him less than two yards progress after the initial contact despite that.

A fleeting smirk popped onto my face, one that worked much better than my earlier intimidating attempts. From my opponent's perspective, unless I received a dose of adrenaline, it was impossible for me to increase my strength.

Luckily, in his perspective, there was a more reasonable excuse. I was holding back all along.

"Again," he growled angrily, clearly feeling insulted that a backup player dared to mock him that way. His gaze at Coach Spencer showed that he had no intention of letting twenty-four have that attempt.

Recognizing the sudden change of atmosphere, both teams suddenly got silent. "Damn, maybe Thad is right," one of the defensive players murmured. "We shouldn't mess with the nerds too much they also come in this variety."

While the murmurs continued, I lined against the running back, waiting for the coach's order. Though, seeing the angry expression on number twenty-two, I smirked, wide enough to be noticed.

If Intimidation didn't work against him, there was always Taunt.

The moment Coach Spencer whistled, we dashed against each other. Number twenty-four, wise enough to catch the mood, stayed behind, letting us contend directly.

And I was glad for that, because even with the sudden increase in my strength, the collusion was enough to throw me a couple steps behind before I could take him down, the pain radiating significantly.

The impact was much more different once my opponent was serious.

"Again," he growled as he walked back to his position, ready to rush once more. Happy with the Intent flowing to me, I was more than happy to comply. Another rush, another collision, my natural pain resistance the only thing keeping me upright even with the assistance of my Traits.

After all, while we mocked the offensive team for being soft and weak, it was mostly about the tactical ineptitude and the lack of preparation. Some of the players still did their best to maintain their personal excellence.

And my current opponent was certainly one of those. Though, after three more attempts, I noticed the earlier anger had disappeared, replaced by blind fury. For some people, myself included, anger burned cold, allowing them to plan and react better. For most, it was a hot emotion, forcing them to make mistakes even if it helped them to perform better physically.

My opponent was clearly a volcano, if his flushing face and widening nostrils were any indicators. At this point, it was no longer about defending the honor of the offensive team, or his quarterback.

It was personal.

A halfway-aware Coach would have recognized the signs and stopped the training. Luckily, Coach Spencer was certainly not one of those, unaware of the upcoming explosion.

Much better, I thought, readying myself for a painful collision. Yet, before Coach Spencer called another repeat, I noticed Coach Bill walking toward us, no doubt intending to stop us as he recognized the change. I didn't want to miss such an excellent opportunity to farm more Intent, not after everything had been set with such excellence.

I raised my arms slightly, and mimed a chicken.

My opponent said nothing, nor that he needed to. The angry growl he let out as he dashed forward was more than enough. Though, despite his anger, he still maintained the standard rush posture.

I dashed forward as well, just a step slower.

If I had been as angry, I would have greeted him with a direct hit, turning it into direct competition. Yet, just before the collision, I forced myself to take a dangerously wide step, forcibly changing the angle of collusion, forcibly unbalancing him.

It wasn't a smooth delivery. If he wasn't that angry, he could have easily used that to walk around me and pay me back. Yet, with his anger burning bright, he wanted to make me pay, the fact that I never tried a trick like that against him limiting his wariness even more.

And just like that, I hit from the side, in a way he didn't expect. Yet, even then, I had to grab his face mask and push him down. It was certainly an illegal move deserving of a penalty if that was an official match, but people that were watching from the live stream didn't care, if the sudden burst of Intent I received was any indicator.

Nor did the defensive players care if their laughter and jeers were any indicator. The offensive ones started cursing and shouting, not appreciating the low blow. Twenty-two, from his position on the ground, looked angry enough to kill me.

"Enough," Coach Bill spoke. Compared to the others shouting and crying, it was barely more than a whisper, yet everyone fell silent. Even the unlucky running back stopped his actions. "Our new recruit proved himself. Gather around, it's time for the next step."

Just like that, the event was over.

But not before giving me some more spectacular gains.

[Intimidation III, acquired]

[Agility I, acquired]

All around, an amazing training.