David Foster curled his lips and said, "You won't have such dumb luck next time."

Brian Carter gave the soccer ball a big kick, and as David Foster and the others in front of him all ran back, he couldn't help but secretly wipe his forehead. He had just acted a bit recklessly—when the ball was still quite far from him, he suddenly stored it in his space, then took it out again. Although others hadn't seen clearly how he did it, the ball had disappeared into thin air for a stretch, and if there had been more people around, someone might have noticed something was off.

This definitely wouldn't do. Something like a storage ring absolutely couldn't be known by others, and things that could arouse suspicion like just now must never happen again, otherwise he wouldn't even be able to come up with an explanation.

But if he had such an ability and didn't use it, wouldn't that be even more frustrating? Brian Carter turned his thoughts to how he could make use of it.

That's it! Brian Carter's mind worked quickly, and he soon came up with a solution. He found a small stone near the goal, stored it in the storage ring, and then immediately retrieved it with his mind. But this time, instead of just taking it out and placing it somewhere as usual, he used a throwing intention.

When the small stone appeared again, sure enough, it didn't just quietly materialize as usual, but actually arced upward in a throw and landed half a meter away.

"Whoa!" Brian Carter couldn't help but shout excitedly. He hadn't expected that, though it was called a storage ring, it wasn't just about putting things in and taking them out—just a casual experiment and a new function had appeared.

Next, Brian Carter stored the stone again, then threw it, then stored it, then threw it again. After a few tries, Brian Carter had pretty much mastered the trick. Actually, it was quite simple—he just replaced the intention to take with a command to throw. Now he was practicing the strength and angle of the throw.

The angle was manageable, but the strength was harder to control. Or rather, at this point, Brian Carter couldn't use the ring to exert much force. That little stone, at most, he could throw it five or six meters away—any farther was impossible.

"Watch out, Dongzi!" Ethan Parker's shout made Brian Carter look up, just in time to see the opposing striker charging in again. Ethan Parker and several defenders were chasing hard behind David Foster and James Miller, but it was clearly useless. David Foster and James Miller weren't just in a one-on-one with the keeper—they were in a two-on-one.

"Zhifei, pass it to me!" David Foster shouted at James Miller, who was dribbling the ball.

James Miller immediately passed the ball across to David Foster, who kept dribbling forward, all the way into the penalty area, then suddenly took a powerful shot, shouting, "Brian Carter, let's see if you can stop this one!"

This time David Foster was even closer to the goal, and his kick was even stronger. In class soccer matches, his shots didn't always go in, but today Brian Carter had embarrassed him, and now that Brian Carter had blocked his shot again, he was feeling pretty upset. He put all his strength into this kick, determined to break through Brian Carter's defense.

But as soon as the ball left his foot, it was flying straight, yet when it was only two meters from the goal, it suddenly changed direction, flying diagonally upward, soaring over the crossbar and out of bounds.

"Damn, David Foster, what kind of shot was that?" Even James Miller, who was as close to David Foster as could be, couldn't help but complain when he saw David Foster's wild shot.

The other teammates also muttered quietly, "That was a terrible shot. If it were me, I wouldn't have missed that badly."

At this point, Ethan Parker and a few defenders ran over, laughing, and said, "Hey Brian Carter, your luck is just too good. One shot comes right at you, another goes way off target—not even aimed at the goal. Are you and David Foster having some kind of secret affair?"

Brian Carter grinned and said, "My preferences are perfectly normal." He couldn't help but feel smug inside. Just now, he'd used the storage ring to catch and throw the ball, sending it flying away. If someone had paid close attention, they might have noticed the ball's flight path was a bit odd, but it all happened in a flash, and no one noticed.

David Foster's face turned from green to white and back again. He was baffled—he'd been so confident about those two shots, so how had he missed both times? But he had to come up with an excuse, so he immediately said, "I was just trying out the banana kick I just learned."

"Really?" James Miller looked utterly shocked. He'd been playing soccer longer than David Foster, and had even trained with a real team, so he knew the banana kick wasn't easy. He said, "You can really do a banana kick?"

With someone playing along, David Foster went with it, laughing, "Yeah, the banana kick isn't easy. I just barely got the hang of it, otherwise I wouldn't have missed so badly, right?" Saying this, David Foster almost convinced himself he'd really pulled off a banana kick, and his face showed a proud expression.

"I gotta say, David Foster, you're amazing. You can even do a banana kick. I've practiced for so long, and my shots never curve that much."