Divine Milking System-Chapter 107 | On My Terms This Time

I woke to my phone vibrating like a demon trying to escape hell.

My brain felt wrapped in cotton. My shoulder throbbed where the Crawler had bitten through. The rest of me existed somewhere between "functional human" and "roadkill."

I grabbed my phone. Screen too bright. Eyes protesting.

10:21 PM.

Missed calls. Seven of them. All from Belle.

Then an eighth call came through.

I answered before my brain caught up.

"Hello?"

"I’m outside."

Belle’s voice was quiet, too controlled.

"Outside where?"

"Your apartment. Didn’t you say we could finish..." She paused. "You know."

Oh.

Oh.

The buff. The extraction. The promise I’d made at five in the morning when my body still worked and I hadn’t killed my first alpha yet.

"Belle, I—"

"If you’re going to say no, just say it." Her voice had gone flat. "I already walked across campus. Already stood outside your door for ten minutes trying to decide whether to knock."

I sat up. Every muscle complained.

"Give me thirty seconds."

I ended the call. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Stumbled to the bathroom. Splashed water on my face. Checked the mirror.

I looked like death had taken a coffee break on my face and decided to stay a while.

Hair sticking up in every direction like I’d been electrocuted. Eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath. The beginning of bruises forming along my jaw from where I’d hit the ground during the fight. My skin had a sickly pallor that screamed "recently traumatized."

The shoulder wound had sealed but left angry red marks in a perfect semicircle, each puncture point still visible where the Crawler’s teeth had sunk deep into my flesh.

My uniform lay crumpled on the floor where I’d dropped it, still stained with blood and gate residue.

I pulled on basketball shorts. Found a clean shirt that didn’t make me wince when I stretched my arms through the sleeves.

The apartment was dark and silent. Hikaru’s door firmly closed. Either asleep or pretending to be. With her, it was impossible to tell the difference.

I opened the door.

Belle stood in the hallway wearing black joggers and a grey hoodie that swallowed her small frame. Her blue hair hung loose around her shoulders, slightly messy like she’d been running her fingers through it. No makeup. Eyes tired and slightly puffy.

She looked at me. Took in my appearance from head to toe with a calculating gaze.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks. Really feeling the support."

"Can I come in or are we doing this in the hallway?"

I stepped aside.

She walked past me. Stopped in the living room. Looked around like she was cataloging everything for future reference or blackmail material.

"Your roommate here?"

"Yeah. Asleep probably."

"Probably?"

"Hikaru’s weird. Hard to tell."

Belle nodded. Didn’t move further inside. Just stood there awkwardly, fingers playing with the strings of her hoodie.

I closed the door. Locked it.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken tension.

"You don’t have to do this," I said.

"I know."

"I mean it. If you’re here because you feel obligated—"

"I’m here because I spent three hours in that gate today." Her voice had gone sharp, brittle at the edges. "Watching Jordan pin shadows to walls. Watching Naomi blast holes in monsters with her energy waves. Watching even you kill an alpha with a spear while I stood there useless." She turned. Met my eyes with fierce intensity. "And I hid in the back with a knife I didn’t use because my ability is useless in actual combat."

"Belle—"

"Do you know what that feels like? Being the person everyone has to protect? Being deadweight?" Her hands had curled into fists, knuckles white. "I grew up poor, Monroe. Really poor. The kind where dinner was sometimes just rice. And I learned early that if you can’t fight, you’d better be useful another way. So I got good at reading people. At knowing what they want. At making myself valuable through information and favors."

She walked to the window. Stared out at the dark ocean, her reflection ghostly in the glass.

"But that doesn’t work in a gate. Treasure Sense is great for finding loot after everyone else kills the monsters. Doesn’t mean shit when a Crawler wants to eat my face and everyone else is busy fighting their own battles."

"You called positions perfectly today. We wouldn’t have coordinated without—"

"That’s baseline competence." She looked back at me, eyes flashing with frustration. "Not actual combat ability. Not something that keeps me alive when things go wrong. The assessment today proved that I’m the weak link now. Not you. Me."

I leaned against the wall. My shoulder protested with a sharp stab of pain.

"So you want the buff because it makes you stronger."

"I want the buff because I refuse to be useless." Her amber eyes had gone hard, determined. "And if that means letting you finish what you started Wednesday night, then fine. I made peace with that already."

"Made peace with it?"

"I spent two days being angry at you. For lying by omission. For prioritizing your needs over mine. For using me." She crossed her arms over her chest. "But anger doesn’t change facts. You need essence to survive. I need power to not die in a gate. Those are the terms."

She walked closer. Stopped three feet away, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo.

"So I’m here. On my terms this time. With my eyes open. And we’re doing this properly or not at all."

I studied her face. The set of her jaw. The way her shoulders had squared like she was preparing for a fight.

She wasn’t here because she wanted this.

She was here because she needed it.

Same as me.

"Alright," I said. "But we do it my way."

"Your way?"

"Yeah." I pushed off the wall. Walked past her toward my bedroom. "Because last time I rushed. Treated it like a transaction. Forgot that you’re a person who deserves better than mechanical extraction in a closet."

I stopped at my door. Looked back at her standing uncertainly in the living room.

"So if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Which means you come inside, we talk first, and I make sure you actually want this instead of just needing it. There’s a difference."

Belle’s defensive posture didn’t change, but her gaze lost some of its edge. She looked away for a second, a flicker of vulnerability before the mask slammed back into place.

"You’re weirdly principled for someone with a milk-based survival system."

"I contain multitudes."

Her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough to count as progress.

She moved forward until she was directly in front of me, close enough that I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, the slight tremble she was trying to hide.

"Fine. We talk first." Her voice had dropped to something softer, more vulnerable. "But Monroe?"

"Yeah?"

"Don’t make me regret trusting you twice."

She brushed past me and walked into my room.

I gave her a three-count before following. The door clicked shut behind me with a soft finality that made the space feel smaller, more intimate, the air suddenly charged with potential.

Belle had claimed the edge of my bed, sitting with her legs crossed, surveying the room like she was cataloging evidence. Her attention caught on the ocean view through the window, then the academy uniform I’d left in a heap on the floor after changing this morning.

"You’re a slob."

"I’m efficient."

"That’s not what efficient means."

I sat in my desk chair. Put distance between us deliberately.

She noticed. Raised an eyebrow.

"Trying to be a gentleman?"

"Trying to have an actual conversation." I leaned forward. Elbows on knees. "So let’s talk. Real talk. No bullshit."

"Okay."

"Why are you really here?"