Chapter Twelve - Survival 101: Don''t Be Weak

Chapter Twelve - Survival 101: Don''t Be Weak

"Run my minions! Sweat for your master! That''s right, a million more push-ups! A million more burpees! Oh-hohohoho!"

-Ojou-Sama Sweat School, exercise stream, 2036

***

Class was going down in the same room as last time, only the room itself had changed. The desks were all lowered, and a sort of matted floor was placed atop that half of the room. It was squishy underfoot, but still firm enough to walk on without too much difficulty. It would probably break a fall, a little, but not so much so that crashing onto the floor would be comfortable.

The students were gathering to one side, under the watchful eye of Professor Rogers and two teacher''s assistants. They were all dressed in gym shorts and t-shirts, with running shoes on.

"The changing rooms are this way," Olivia said as she guided me past the class and to the back, where a tied corridor split. One side had showers, the awkward open sort, the other had a bunch of changing stalls and lockers along one wall with thumb-print locks on them.

"Here you go," Olivia said as she handed me a heap of clothes. "There should be everything you need to find a set that fits you in there."

"Thanks," I said before slipping into one of the free stalls. They were those shitty ones, where the door only came down to about my knee and the floor was all cold tile. I set down the bag Olivia had given me, then opened it up and started to sort through its contents.

There were shirts with the school logo on one breast, which was fine. Shapeless gym shorts of the non-sexy variety which was... yeah, I suppose that was fine too.

But the sports bras? That was a little weird. And I was definitely, one-hundred percent not going to wear the granny panties with the school''s logo on the crotch. Bet Olivia would, though.

I left the stall feeling a little under-dressed, especially since I wasn''t gonna walk into gym class with my Trenchmaker strapped around my thigh. That''d be a little weird.

"Is the uniform comfortable?" Olivia asked. She''d changed into pretty much the same thing, though with a scrunchy keeping her hair out of her face.

"Eh, it''s whatever," I said. I dumped my things in one of the lockers, then walked back to the class.@@@@

It didn''t take long from there for things to start.

"Alright everyone," Professor Rogers said. "This is the physical education part of your class. Let me get one thing straight, this isn''t about who can run the fastest mile, or who can do the most pushups. Those are important measurements of your own skill and capabilities, but they''re not what''s important. What''s truly important, is your ability to survive, and your ability to kill."

I stood up a little straighter. Yeah, I didn''t want to be tested on my ability to jog in a circle or lift heavy shit.

Running around with my own weight on my back was not normal for me.

It was worse for some of the others, though. They were gasping after three minutes and one chick fell down and crashed to the mats. The professor was on her in seconds, barking orders and telling her to get back up.

So, no mercy from the old asshole.

I locked in as best I could. Some of the guys in the class were moving as if this was nothing. There were a couple that were more cybernetics than flesh, and they weren''t having any trouble with this shit.

"It''s... not fair!" one skinny dude said. I immediately pegged him as a nepo-baby.

"What''s not fair?" Rogers asked.

"They''re modded... for this," he said.

"Then get mods of your own, imbecile," the professor said. "You work with what you have, and in this day and age, if you don''t like what you''ve got, get better."

The running around ended after far too long, and this time I couldn''t hide the fact that I was a sweaty, tired mess.

"Good... now that you''re all warmed up, let''s start some speed drills. We''re going to start with hand-eye coordination drills, then once that''s done, we''re going to do a bit more sprinting," Professor Rogers said.

The TAs started to pull out these pole contraptions with red balls on stalks. Once they set a few down, it wasn''t long before I figured out how they worked. A light would go off in the ball, and the student in front had to punch it.

The lights went off progressively faster, and there was a penalty counter for missed hits.

My legs were hurting before, and this thing was designed to fuck up my arms too.

Why had I ever agreed to any of this?

At the same time... I couldn''t help but feel like this might be a good way to come out the other side stronger and faster, so I''d trust the process for a bit.

***