11: My Power is… Boobs

"My power… is, uh… boobs," he says, his voice uncertain despite his robust build. "Can anyone— Is anyone willing to volunteer?"

Silence once again reigns, as people try to grasp what he said. Eventually, a few murmurs whisper in the air from the group.

Meanwhile, I do my best to not burst out laughing at the absurdity, lest I be voluntold.

"He's so hot… It's such a shame he's a creep," one girl says.

"Girl, I don't know about you, but I'd love to get a piece of that," a different girl says.

"Then, you go up," some guy adds.

"No way! I don't know what he wants to do," the second girl protests.

The people just look at each other until Burl speaks again.

"A-actually… a guy might be better to demonstrate my ability… maybe a few different ones…"

The staff member sighs. She can't really keep the exam moving with so many people holding it up.

"I-it's great for gauging someone's strength… and to deal psychological damage," Burl adds.

"I don't want psychological damage! Definitely not during the heat of battle!" a different guy shouts, to which a few others vocally agree.

I gaze at the people who spoke up. They speak of battle as if they've experienced it, yet they all seem like absolute greenhorns to me.

Oh… the temptation… But I must resist — I must contain myself for Struan.

"Why don't you start with explaining your abilities more. Then, maybe someone will be more inclined to volunteer," Susan says, with a hint of unmasked exasperation.

"A-alright… My ability works on any gender, but it's more noticeable on men, for obvious reasons. I u-use my a-ability on a guy… and he gets boobs. The stronger he i-is, the bigger the boobs," Burl says, his face turning red as he explains his ability.

"How long do the… boobs stay?" one of the men asks.

"F-f-fifteen minutes. I can make them stay for as little as fifteen minutes. Your body will stay e-exactly the same — j-just with b-boobs."

"You said that was for just males, right? What about for women? Can you make mine bigger?" a new woman asks.

"For a woman… She w-would get a s-small power boost to all her stats, multiplied by her boob size. Unfortunately, it's almost insignificant u-unless the pair is quite large," Burl finishes up, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

Some of the guys start joking around, pushing each other and telling each other to volunteer, but no one does.

Susan loudly huffs and tells us to stay here before jogging away.

While we wait, Burl just stands awkwardly in front of the group, silently looking at the ground.

Jeez… I'm kinda feeling sorry for this guy. He's just surrounded by incompetent people who can't think outside the box.

"Burl… I'm sure your ability is quite useful. Have you considered using it to help identify fleeing male suspects… or to discourage them from running away in the first place?" I ask.

His face lights up, happy that someone isn't taking him as a joke.

"Honestly, if your ability works like you said it does, then for males, you can make this exam completely obsolete while also being more accurate and less biased," I continue.

I look up and down the line, directly gazing into the eyes of each man, challenging them. "I'm sure all you guys are just too afraid of letting us all very clearly — indisputably — see how weak you are, aren't you?"

"..." The men look at each other; some of them have scowls forming on their faces.

"Though, I'm sure you have nothing to be afraid of. With your winter coats, you can just claim his powers didn't work, since there wouldn't be much to see, if anything, anyways."

Giving one final push, I add, "Besides, Burl's pecs are much more massive than any temporary power-measuring boobs you could ever hope to gain."

"Bring it! I'll show you my massive titties!" One guy roars, ripping off his coat, sending fluff flying everywhere. He was almost as built as Burl.

Struan brings his hands together and closes his eyes, mourning the loss of a perfectly good coat as the shredded stuffing drifts to the ground.

"A-are you sure?" Burl asks.

"What!? Are you afraid they'll be bigger than your pecs!?" The man's veins bulge and his face turns red as he stomps right up to Burl's face, challenging him.

"I wasn't the one who brought up my pecs!" Burl protests, but motions for the man to turn around to face us.

Slowly but surely, we see mounds grow beneath his tight-fitting shirt.

"Is… is that it?" someone from the crowd asks.

"This is not my full power! I'm sick!" The volunteer shouts in response, sounding quite healthy and vigorous. He begins to cough and sniffle, to which some roll their eyes while others snicker.

"But, that doesn't matte—" Burl says, but changes his mind to help the man retain what little dignity he has left.

"I can beat that, no problem!" someone from the crowd shouts, soon joined by more voices. At first, some resisted my goading, but with everyone else doing it, they too got dragged into the fray.

Eventually, all the guys have their turn, and amid their comparison, they just so happened to line themselves up according to their sizes, with some debating and position swapping still going on.

I see Susan, who just came back with a male coworker, dismiss her volunteer… Although how much she explained to him is debatable given by his confusion and shock at our group's shenanigans.

He turns and stares as he walks back, never once looking straight, unable to break his gaze away. He almost walks into a pole of one of the tents and stumbles around it at the last second.

"You're not gonna go up?" Eir asks Struan, who seems to have been overlooked by the crowd.

"I'd rather not," Struan responds.

"Psh, I'm glad he's not. I don't feel like carrying him to the car," I say, just a little too loudly.

"OOOH!" I hear from a guy somewhere near me, and folks begin egging Struan on. Whoops?

"If he goes up, then you carry him back… if you can," I add, with a smirk and wink to the instigator. "And if he doesn't fit, then you have to hire and pay for a moving truck."

"OOOOOOH!!!" Multiple voices build on each other.

"Ama!! No!" Struan whines. "Stop raising their expectations!"

"Why? It's true. You'll only be stuck for about fifteen minutes. Right, Burl?" I ask.

"That's right," Burl answers with a nod.

"Bet! $100! He can still walk!" The instigator challenges me.

"Deal," I say, grinning like a Cheshire cat and we shake on it.

I push Struan up to the front, his boots digging small trenches through the snow as he refuses to walk forward and locks his legs.

"Hehe… Please, Struan?" I ask.

"..."

"Struan! Struan! Struan!" the people chant.

"Fine… but you owe me after this," Struan says, shooting me a glare.

Clapping and cheering echoes across the field, gathering the attention of the other groups once more.

Struan turns to face everyone and deeply — oh so deeply — sighs.

"Just get this over with so I can return to normal sooner," Struan says to Burl, who activates his ability.

Someone whistles as Struan's chest just keeps on growing… and growing… and growing…

"This gotta be it?"

"How's he still going?"

Struan tips forward, looking like a bug stuck on its back, but in reverse, with his arms and legs flailing about.

Eventually, he gets so large that his boobs combined are as big as a car. He rises for a few more inches before finally stopping — his body almost parallel to the ground.

People crowd around him, looking in awe, and a few place their palms on him.

The instigator guy reaches into his wallet and reluctantly slaps a hundred into my outstretched hand. He doesn't immediately let go of the money, so we fumble with it for a few seconds before I pry it from his fingers.

"Why thank ya. Nice doing business with you, hehehehe," I cackle, pocketing the money.

"Aaama… please help…" Struan whimpers and does some sort of swimming motion in the air as he struggles. His motions send small ripples through his breasts as he inadvertently bounces up and down on them.

I just giggle a bit and watch. After all, it's not every day you get to see something this great.

"My boooobs… They're cooold!" Struan whimpers.

"Melt the ground with them?" Eir offers, to which he does, but doesn't look any happier.

Susan slides the group to a different part of the field while Struan wiggles right where he grew, still immobile.

"I never thought I would ever do this…" Susan says, and orders the men to line up by breast size again. She then calls on the guys at both ends, as well as someone in the middle, to demonstrate their powers so she can grade them. Then, to my surprise, she estimates the remaining men's grades based on their size and what the three men's power levels are.

I guess she really doesn't want to do her job. Perhaps I misunderstood her strict and serious appearance? Maybe she's just upset about being underpaid, overworked, and is overall just done dealing with her job?

"I… I don't even know anymore. I want to go home…" Susan murmurs quietly to herself, her voice fading out. "What's wrong with this group? What's wrong with just having the usual elemental powers, super strength, laser vision, telekinesis, flight…"

Susan slaps herself on the cheeks and dismisses all the guys to get their ID cards after confirming their details, asking about their abilities, and recording their powers on her tablet. With regard to Struan, she hollers at him, asking his power, to which he yells back, "fire."

"Amaryllis Lavrova. You're up next," Susan calls out, with half of her previous energy.

'Bout time. This was about to become the wrong genre… or right genre?