Restarting Life as the Protagonist of a Fantasy Dating Sim-Chapter 36: Green Dog

The late-afternoon sun hit Nick’s white practice jersey.

He rolled his neck once and started across the turf.

The shoulder pads felt uncomfortable but traveling across the Red Desert was probably worse.

The coach was leaning against the water station with arms folded as he chewed on a whistle. The second he spotted Nick, the man’s scarred face split into a grin that looked almost proud.

Hardman gave a low, rumbling chuckle.

"Well I’ll be damned... that’s my boy."

He snatched a ball off the cart and fired it spiral-perfect without even looking.

The football knifed through the air and smacked into Nick’s chest with a meaty THWAP.

Nick caught it one-handed.

"Thanks, coach."

He tucked it against his ribs and kept walking like this would be a piece of cake.

A senior linebacker timed it perfectly.

He drifted left, then threw a vicious shoulder right into Nick’s ribs as he passed.

"Move, freak."

The guy muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the huddle to hear.

He didn’t even bother to turn his head.

He just took the hit and jogged away in his cleats.

Twenty yards away, Connor’s lip curled like he’d smelled something dead. His teeth ground together so hard the sound was almost audible. He watched Nick join the offensive formation, then spotted Jace jogging toward the defense.

Connor grabbed Jace’s arm and yanked him close.

"Green light."

His voice was as serious as it could get.

This is an order from a senior to a junior after all.

"All of it. I want Aarden leaving on a stretcher. If I don’t see blood you ain’t done your job."

He pat Jace like he was a little kid.

"Spread the word."

Jace’s eyes went wide.

"Dude... you sure? Coach is right—"

Connor’s open hand cracked across Jace’s chest plate so hard the plastic rattled. Then he grabbed Jace by the face mask and pulled until their helmets clacked.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Jace swallowed hard as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"N-, No. I’ll... I’ll tell them. Sorry, man."

He jerked away, sucked in a shaky breath, slammed his helmet down, and jogged off.

First play.

Both sides clapped into formation.

Nick adjusted his chin strap, coolly dropped into shotgun behind the center and immediately felt a meaty hand shove him sideways.

"Get the hell out of there, dipshit!"

One of the guards snapped.

"I’m not the damn center, you dumb fuck."

The defense laughed at him.

Even a couple guys on offense snickered.

Coach Hardman rubbed his temples.

"Jeez. Maybe I did make a mistake..."

Nick heard it. His jaw flexed once.

He shook his head then stepped behind the actual center this time and bent low.

"Blue eighty! Blue eighty! Set—HUT!"

The ball smacked into his palms.

Nick rose and took three quick drop steps to scan.

Four bodies detonated into him at once.

BOOM.

The impact lifted him clean off his feet and drove him into the turf so hard the grass exploded upward.

"NGGHHHK!"

His helmet bounced off the ground as thick spit flew from his mouthguard. Someone’s knee even found the side of his skull on the way down.

From the track, Susan winced.

"Oooo... that’s gotta hurt."

Nadine was already on her feet as her fists pumped like she could fight the entire defense herself.

"COME ON! Get up! Shake it off!"

She looked severely pissed.

Imagine if they pummeled his handsome face.

"You got this! They’re only ganging you because you’re too damn good so fight back!"

She was screaming loud enough for half the bleachers to hear.

Susan glanced at her best friend and felt some jealousy twist in her chest.

『If this really is Nick... am I seriously gonna let him get wrecked while I just stand here?』

She cupped her hands around her small mouth.

"You got this, Nick! Show ’em!"

Second play. Same story.

Nick back-pedaled but nobody blocked.

Four guys again.

This time an elbow to the throat.

He hit the ground coughing blood into his mouthpiece.

Third play. Five guys.

Someone’s helmet speared him right in the ribs.

CRACK.

The air left his lungs in a wheeze.

He stayed down longer this time as his vision spun.

Bree sat three rows up, arms hugged around her knees as she watched with growing horror.

Her "investment" was looking defective.

『If he keeps eating dirt like this, it doesn’t matter how hot he is. He’ll be a social corpse by tomorrow. I can’t date a punching bag dammit...』

Down on the sideline, Nadine and Susan had migrated to the bleachers for a better view.

Nadine’s knuckles were white on the railing.

"They’re killing him!"

She bit her lower plump, rosy lip.

"That’s not practice, that’s attempted murder."

Susan spotted Jace lining up again and marched straight to the fence.

"Jace!"

He turned, sweat dripping.

"Huh?"

"Can you try not being a complete bully for once?"

She looked so done with him.

But it’s always like that between them.

"Seriously, I expected better from you."

Jace’s face went red under the helmet.

"Get off my case, Sue."

He jogged off without another word.

Next snap.

Five bodies this time.

They hit him high and low... someone’s forearm across the throat as another mercilessly drove a buff shoulder into his lower back.

Nick went down in a heap as thick blood trickled from under the helmet.

Nobody on offense even pretended to check on him.

Coach Hardman had seen enough.

He stormed onto the field like a rhino.

He grabbed Nick’s face mask with one hand and hauled him up until they were eye to eye.

"Listen up, you pathetic little bitch!"

Hardman roared, spit flying.

"I have never NEVER seen a sorrier excuse for a quarterback in my forty years of watching this game! You drop the ball like it’s a live grenade! You stare at rushers like they’re your fucking ex! You couldn’t read a blitz if it came with a PowerPoint and a stripper!"

He saw Nick was losing consciousness and shook him by the face mask to keep him awake.

He didn’t care about the blood on his face.

It’s part of this beautiful game!

"You’re a waste of pads, a waste of oxygen, and right now you’re a waste of my goddamn afternoon! You get your soft ass up, you get back in that huddle, and you put up a performance that doesn’t make me wanna drag you behind the field house and beat you unconscious myself!"

He slammed his forehead against Nick’s helmet.

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

The words hit harder than all the tackles.

Old memories started rushing into Nick’s head.

Being beaten at the back of the school.

Getting recorded naked so everyone could make fun of him for having a small peen.

The amount of times he’d been spat on by girls.

His heartbeat jackhammered.

His whole body started shaking as his breath ceased.

It was getting really hard to breathe.

『I don’t wanna be here... I wanna go back...』

Then, faint through the ringing in his ears.

"NICK! YOU’VE GOT THIS!"

"COME ON, BABY, GET UP!"

"Baby?"

"I mean... uh... shut up already!"

Susan and Nadine stood on the bleachers to cheer him on until their voices cracked.

Something inside him clicked.

Nick’s shaking slowed.

He sucked in a bloody breath, nodded once at the girls then pushed himself to his feet.

Blood dripped from his chin onto the grass.

One of the offensive linemen got in his face.

"Quit screwing everything up, you—"

The guy swung a cheap shot right at Nick’s ribs.

Nick’s hand snapped out, caught the fist mid-swing.

One squeeze.

CRACK-CRUNCH.

The lineman dropped to his knees with a howl as he cradled his broken wrist.

"MY ARM! HE BROKE MY FUCKING ARM!"

"..."

Nick didn’t even look at him.

The lineman quickly complained to the coach.

Hardman was too focused on Nick and waved him away like he was a fly.

"Just... take some ibuprofen or something..."

"Huh?"

The lineman was lost.

Nick wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and rolled his shoulders once.

He walked to the huddle.

His eyes were different now.

They were a bit cold-looking.

He crouched behind the center again.

The entire defense shifted uneasily.