Marty may be a good person but he’s the type of guy that won’t let his pride get trampled that easily. To be beaten by one of the lowest-performing members of the school is a huge blow at that. As the practice session began, Marty asked Emil for a rematch. Each time they fought, Marty lost every single time. Marty can’t believe that he’s losing to him. Every time he lost, he felt like his strength and technique were sapping away from his body. And it seems his weakening body and pride are reaching his eyes. He swore Emil’s hair is getting lighter every time they sparred. By the 5th rematch, Mr. Reagan had to stop the match because Marty looked out of it. His shoulders hang weak and he has these bags under his eyes that weren’t there this afternoon. Marty blamed his weakness on something bad he ate earlier, Emil made an excuse that he has been practicing these past few days but only knew what the truth really is.
Every time Emil touched his opponent, knowledge surged in his mind. His muscles tensed and filled with brimming strength. And he swore that his uniform wasn’t that tight before. Now, the seams of his cuffs are near to bursting. He felt like a beast that was ready to explode. Sad to say, his opponent conceded. Although, it made him kind of guilty that he is stealing a trait that is not rightfully his.
The day ended with Mr. Reagan commending Emil for his improvements. Continue on this path and they can nab the regionals trophy and move to the state championship. It’d be a first for the school and Mr. Reagan didn’t lie, it’d be a huge promotion for the school. While it is still a place of learning, it still is a business. More people would enroll if the news hit that they’ve won the championship. As they bid themselves goodbye, Emil couldn’t help but shake his teacher’s hand. Just as he did, he absorbed all the knowledge he could in that period.
Even though he looked for it, Emil didn’t see the vending machine on his way home. The desolate shortcut he used returned to its usual state. When he came back home, he was met with the smell of Adobo - a family classic his mother cooks best. When he passed by the kitchen, Emil heard her mother call to him.
“Emil, is that you?” His mother asked.
“It’s me, mom. Why are you asking?” They used to see eye to eye yesterday, but he’s standing taller than her now.
“Did you get a haircut or something? You look different…”
Emil scoffed, “I was planning on taking one before the tournament.”
“Good. I don’t want you growing your hair too long.”
---
Before Emil sleeps, it’s a tradition that he takes a steam bath. When he passed by the mirror, he realized that what his mother told is true. He looks different. He is taller and there’s a noticeable bulk in his biceps. Then there’s the topic of his hair color which is now a dirty shade of blonde, and skin that is whiter than his usual natural tan. And down below, he thirsts at what he’s seen. Emil is one of the numerous individuals that isn’t blessed in the downstairs department. It’s partly the reason why he’s so self-conscious about his manhood. But looking at it with his two clear eyes, he shuddered at the weight dangling between his legs. His shaft grew nearly by half and his balls are the size of golf balls. He could actually grab it with his entire hand with a space left over as opposed to using his middle, index, and thumb as before. He nearly screamed at it, but he laughed instead.
Emil spent most of his time in the shower testing out the new package. He came in ropes and had the libido left to do another. Just before sleeping, he thought of ways on how he could use more of his powers and imagine the person he will become.