Divine Milking System-Chapter 77 | Squad Optimization And Other Pretty Lies
The training session ended sometime around seven. I’m saying "sometime" because my ability to perceive linear time had abandoned me along with most of my motor functions.
I found myself lying on the grass next to Naomi. Not sitting. Lying. Fully horizontal. The position had happened without conscious decision.
Naomi’s eyes were closed. Her breathing came slow and deep. The crash had hit her worse than me, which made sense given she’d been operating on a gold-tier buff for almost twenty-four hours before reality came back to collect.
"You alive?" I asked.
"Debatable," she said, without opening her eyes.
"Same."
The grass felt nice. Cool against my back where the shirt had ridden up slightly. The California evening air carried that ocean salt smell that made everything feel temporary and distant.
My phone buzzed.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again.
"That’s probably important," Naomi said.
"Everything can wait."
"What if it’s an emergency."
"Then someone else will handle it."
Naomi made a soft sound that might have been a laugh. Her hand found mine on the grass between us. Her fingers were cold.
I could hear Misato somewhere across the field, still putting Jordan through shadow targeting drills despite the fact that practice had officially ended. Jordan’s complaints had reached a pitch where they’d stopped sounding like words and started resembling pure existential suffering set to a minor key.
Belle had disappeared toward the building ten minutes ago. Probably showering. Probably already planning tomorrow’s outfit. Probably already three steps ahead of everyone else while looking like she wasn’t even paying attention.
My phone buzzed a third time.
"You should check that," Naomi said.
"I will. In five minutes."
"You said that five minutes ago."
"Time is a construct."
"Jace."
"Fine."
I pulled the phone out with the kind of effort usually reserved for moving furniture. The screen lit up with three messages from Belle.
Belle: Training room B3 has showers btw
Belle: Better water pressure than the dorm
Belle: You’re welcome
I showed Naomi the messages without lifting my head off the grass.
"She’s very helpful," Naomi said.
"She’s terrifying."
"That too."
I let the phone fall back onto my chest. The weight of it felt like someone had placed a small anvil directly over my heart.
"We should probably move," I said.
"Probably."
Neither of us moved.
The sky had started turning that particular shade of orange that meant sunset was happening whether we participated or not. Clouds streaked across it in long horizontal lines. Birds flew somewhere overhead making bird sounds. Nature continued doing its thing.
My stats without the buff were brutal. D-rank Endurance, which was progress, but E-rank Strength and Agility made me about as threatening as a particularly aggressive goldfish. The kind that bumps into the glass really hard.
Tomorrow morning Naomi would be back to full capacity. Tomorrow morning I’d be running on whatever base stats I’d built plus whatever essence I could extract before Friday.
Tomorrow morning was nine hours away.
Right now was right now.
"Hey."
I opened my eyes.
Belle stood over me. Not stood. Loomed. The angle made her look approximately ten feet tall and composed entirely of curves and smugness.
She wore black compression shorts. A purple sports bra that the academy would definitely not approve of if they knew about it and a white zip up jacket that was left open. Her blue hair hung loose around her shoulders, slightly damp from the shower she’d apparently already taken in the mysterious Training Room B3.
The evening light hit her from behind, which created this whole backlit situation where I could see the outline of her body in very specific detail.
Including the underboob.
Jesus Christ there was underboob.
"Heyyyyyy Jaceeeee," she said, drawing out both words like she was talking to a particularly slow dog.
My brain attempted to form a response. My mouth said nothing.
"Isn’t it time for you to show me you and Naomi’s private training?"
Naomi’s hand went rigid in mine. Her eyes snapped open and her face immediately flushed that deep pink that meant she was experiencing approximately seven emotions simultaneously and had no idea which one to express first.
"W-what?" Naomi managed.
Belle’s smile got wider. "You said you’d help me with my ability after Misato’s training. Remember? Lunchtime conversation? Three hours ago?"
I did not remember this.
I also definitely remembered this.
The conversation at lunch where Belle had very clearly offered a transaction. Her improved detection range in exchange for me using Euphoric Feedback to enhance her Treasure Sense. Mutual benefit. Strategic partnership. Completely reasonable.
Also extremely dangerous given that Naomi was currently holding my hand and looking like she was about to have a panic attack.
"I said we’d discuss it," I said.
"We’re discussing it. Right now. By doing it."
"Belle," Naomi said, sitting up with visible effort. "I don’t think that’s what he meant."
"No no, it’s fine." Belle crouched down so she was at our level. The angle got worse. The underboob situation intensified. "I know you two are a thing. Jace told me at weapons training. Very sweet. Very responsible. But this is work. Professional development. Squad optimization."
She said the last part like she was reading from a textbook.
"Squad optimization," I repeated.
"Exactly."
Naomi looked at me. Her expression was doing that thing where it cycled through several different reactions before settling on resigned acceptance mixed with something that looked suspiciously like jealousy.
"You want to do a training session," Naomi said slowly. "With Jace. Using his ability. To enhance your Treasure Sense."
"Yes," Belle said brightly.
"In private."
"Well I’m not doing it in front of Misato. She’d ask questions."
Naomi turned to me. "Jace."
I looked at Belle. At her amber-brown eyes that were absolutely calculating something behind all the cheerful enthusiasm. At the way she held herself with that perfect balance of confidence and performance.
At the underboob.
My brain was operating at approximately forty percent capacity and that forty percent was currently divided between basic survival functions and trying not to stare at things I should not be staring at.
"My room," I said.
Belle’s smile got sharper. "Perfect."
"Wait," Naomi said. "Your room. With your roommate."
Oh.
Right.
Hikaru.
My secretly-female roommate who had spent this morning fleeing the apartment after witnessing the audio evidence of last night’s extraction session. Who probably wanted nothing to do with me right now. Who possessed the ability to create invisible cutting forces that could slice through steel.
"He’s never there," I said, which was technically true if you counted "actively avoiding me" as "never there."
"Are you sure," Naomi said.
"Pretty sure."
"That doesn’t sound sure."
"It’s fine," Belle said, standing up in one smooth motion that made physics seem optional. "If he’s there, we’ll be quiet. If he’s not there, even better. Either way, I’m getting my ability enhancement before Friday."
She offered me her hand.
I looked at it. At her fingers. At the way her nails were painted that light pink that somehow matched her lip gloss.
At the way taking her hand meant standing up, which meant walking, which meant going back to the dorm, which meant potentially dealing with Hikaru, which meant getting Belle alone in my room while Naomi was experiencing visible emotional distress.
I took her hand.
