Divine Milking System

Chapter 270: 270 | The Swamp Data and The Goth Girlfriend

Misato tagging along as bodyguard wasn’t in the plan.

"I appreciate the concern," I said, picking words with bomb defusal delicacy. "But I think having my squad captain follow me to my girlfriend’s apartment sends a weird message."

"Weird how?"

"Weird like I need a babysitter."

"You do need a babysitter. You tried to commit federal theft forty-eight hours ago."

"That was a team decision."

"A team decision I had to clean up at one in the morning while you carried a fake crystal through restricted territory."

"We returned it."

"You returned it because Vale was standing in the vault waiting for you like a disappointed parent at a police station."

She had me there. No counter for that because the image of Vale holding a glowing crystal while wearing designer sunglasses at one AM was seared into my memory with brand permanence.

"Look," I said, trying a different approach. "Aurora specifically invited me. Showing up with an entourage is going to change the dynamic."

"Good. The dynamic should change. You shouldn’t be socializing when there’s a Diamond-tier threat on campus."

"I socialize every day. That’s literally how my ability works."

"Your ability works through physical contact with women. Which is exactly what Cassandra will be looking for. Unusual patterns of intimate behavior that don’t match a normal lottery student’s social profile."

My eye twitched.

Misato didn’t know the specifics of my System. She knew about Euphoric Feedback, knew about the enhancement buffs I provided to Belle and Naomi, probably suspected more than she let on given those thin hotel walls in Oakdale.

But she didn’t know about Essence Extraction, the lactation, the milk, the points, the death timer, or the fact that my entire survival depended on making women orgasm three times in a single session to steal their supernatural abilities while drinking from their breasts like the world’s most degenerate vampire.

If she knew all that, she’d either help me more or kill me immediately. Fifty-fifty odds.

"Misato." I stepped closer, keeping my voice low enough that two Emerald students passing on the path wouldn’t catch the conversation. "I hear you. I understand the risk. But acting paranoid is the worst possible response to surveillance. If Cassandra sees me going about my normal routine, dating my girlfriend, hanging out with friends, she has nothing to report. If I suddenly start canceling plans and hiding in my apartment with my squad captain standing guard, she’ll know something’s wrong."

"I’m not suggesting you hide. I’m suggesting you have backup."

"In my girlfriend’s apartment."

"In any location where you could be approached by a hostile investigator."

"Aurora’s apartment is in Summit residential area. Cassandra is staying in the VIP villa on the opposite side of campus. There’s zero tactical reason for her to be in that corridor at seven on a Monday night."

Misato’s jaw did that shifting thing again. Her fingers curled into loose fists at her sides, knuckles whitening slightly before she forced them open. Afternoon light painted her face in warm gold that contrasted with coolness in her lime green eyes.

"You’re being reckless," she said.

"I’m being strategic."

"You’re being a nineteen-year-old boy who wants to go see his girlfriend instead of listening to his captain."

"Both things can be true simultaneously."

She stared at me. The stare lasted long enough for a hummingbird to complete an entire circuit of the nearby flower bed and come back for a second pass. Campus sounds filled the silence between us.

Distant shouting from the Arena. The hum of the simulation dome running afternoon sessions. A door banging shut somewhere inside Building A.

"I don’t like it," Misato said finally. freёwebnoѵel.com

"Noted."

"If anything happens, you call me immediately."

"Absolutely."

"If Cassandra approaches you, do not engage. Walk away. Come find me."

"Roger that."

"And Monroe." She moved closer, footsteps deliberate on the concrete. The distance between us vanished until the scent of her reached me—citrus and cedar, the combination she always carried after training sessions.

She was shorter than me by several inches now. The height difference still surprised me sometimes. Her personality occupied so much space that my brain kept expecting her to tower over everyone in the immediate vicinity. She had to look up to make eye contact.

"Yeah?"

"You could stay in tonight. With me. We could go over gate strategies for Wednesday." The words came out in that particular tone she used when she was trying to sound casual about something that wasn’t casual at all. "I downloaded the FGRA’s swamp biome analysis package. New data on mire crawler territorial behavior. We could map out better clearance routes."

The offer sat between us like a test question I didn’t have the right study guide for. On its surface, Misato was suggesting a reasonable alternative to wandering campus during an active investigation. Practical thinking. The kind of call a responsible squad captain should make when one of her assets wanted to do something stupid.

On the other side, a goth girl with purple highlights and a lollipop addiction was waiting in an apartment less than ten minutes away, wearing something that probably violated multiple dress codes and carrying an A-rank ability in her body that could transform me from a joke into a weapon.

Not even close. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

"The swamp data sounds great," I said. "Send it to the group chat and I’ll review it before training tomorrow morning."

Something flickered across Misato’s face. Quick enough that most people would have missed it entirely. I almost missed it myself. A tightening at the corners of her mouth, a fractional drop in her shoulders, the way her gaze slid from my eyes to somewhere around my collarbone and stayed there half a second too long.

Then it was gone. The captain mask returned with visor-snap speed.

"Fine. Don’t die." She turned and started walking toward Building C, ponytail swinging behind her with sharp pendulum motion. The stride carried more force than the situation warranted.

"Misato."

She stopped. Didn’t turn around.

"Thanks for looking out."