Picking Up Girls With My Pickup System-Chapter 17: Lena’s Interest.

The sterile tang of disinfectant hit Kent’s nose as he pushed open the nurse’s office door. The hum of a ceiling fan droned above, doing little to chase away the smell of antiseptic and alcohol.

"Sit," the nurse ordered before he could say a word. A woman in her late thirties with sharp glasses and a no-nonsense bun, she pointed to the cot with the precision of a general commanding troops.

Kent obeyed, wincing as his bruised ribs protested. The nurse snapped on gloves and began cleaning the cuts across his arms, the sting of antiseptic making him grit his teeth.

"You’re lucky," she said curtly, swabbing away at a scrape on his cheek. "If that boy had landed cleanly, you wouldn’t be in this cot—you’d be in a hospital bed."

"I’ll... keep that in mind," Kent muttered.

Two teachers stood in the corner, their voices low.

"Unbelievable, fighting in the courtyard like that."

"He should’ve been killed. Derek’s out of control."

"And Gilbert...? He didn’t break. Didn’t run. Do you think—"

Their words cut off when they realized Kent could hear. He lowered his gaze, pretending not to notice, though his pulse quickened. They weren’t just talking about Derek—they were talking about him.

The nurse pressed a bandage firmly against his ribs, jolting him back to reality. "You’ll be sore for days. Don’t do anything reckless."

Kent almost laughed. Too late.

The moment he stepped out of that cot, whispers followed. In the hallway outside, clusters of students leaned together, murmuring and darting glances his way. Some giggled behind hands. Others simply stared.

The System chimed faintly in the back of his head.

[Visibility Increased: 12% → 18%]

Note: Rumors travel faster than fists.

Kent exhaled, clutching the strap of his bag tighter. His life had just shifted again—and it wasn’t slowing down.

The hallway outside the nurse’s office was unusually quiet, as though the crowd had thinned just for him. Kent stepped out, his ribs bound, shirt wrinkled, bag slung across his sore shoulder.

And there she was.

Lena Crestfield leaned against the wall opposite the door, arms crossed, her posture effortlessly composed. Her uniform blazer was unbuttoned just enough to suggest she didn’t care for school rules, and her long dark hair framed her face like a calculated veil.

Kent froze mid-step. "...You’ve been waiting."

"Obviously," Lena replied, her tone smooth as glass. She pushed off the wall and stepped closer, her heels clicking lightly against the tiles. "I wanted a better look at you without the crowd howling in the background."

Her eyes roamed over him—not in the way the giggling girls had, but like a scientist examining a specimen. Cool, precise, unhurried.

"You don’t look like someone who should’ve survived Derek," she said.

Kent smirked weakly, though his throat tightened. "Sorry to disappoint."

Lena’s lips curved, faint and unreadable. "Oh, it’s not disappointment. It’s curiosity. And curiosity is far more dangerous."

She stopped just a step away from him, tilting her head so her gaze caught the dim hallway light. He could feel her presence—controlled, sharp, like standing too close to a blade’s edge.

Kent swallowed. "So what do you want from me?"

Lena’s eyes glittered. "Answers."

"Answers?" Kent echoed, keeping his voice steady.

Lena’s smile deepened by a fraction, the kind of smile that never quite reached the eyes. "You dodged Derek’s blows like you’d done it before. You moved... differently. Not scared, not reckless—calculated. And then you walked away breathing when most people would’ve been carried away."

Kent shifted his weight, ribs flaring with pain. "Are you saying I got lucky?"

"I don’t believe in luck." Lena’s tone was soft, but it had the firmness of steel behind it. "I believe in preparation. I believe in leverage. And I believe in secrets."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate.

Kent forced a smirk, raising his brows. "So, which one am I? A miracle case or someone with secrets?"

Lena leaned in slightly, her perfume a faint, cool note that brushed against him. "Why don’t you tell me?"

Kent’s pulse kicked up. This wasn’t an interrogation; it was a game. She wanted to see how he’d play it.

"Maybe I just got stubborn," Kent said finally. "Or maybe Derek’s not as unstoppable as everyone thinks."

Lena’s eyes glimmered with amusement. "Careful. If you talk like that too loudly, people will start believing it."

"Is that so bad?"

"It depends," she said, straightening again. "Belief makes kings. But it also makes enemies. And right now, you’re drawing both."

Her voice was casual, but the weight in her gaze said otherwise.

Kent felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward despite himself. "You sound like you’ve got experience in this sort of thing."

Lena’s lips curved, sharp and knowing. "Maybe I do. Maybe I just know how to read people."

"And what do you read in me?" Kent asked before he could stop himself.

For the first time, Lena paused—not long, just enough to let silence stretch, to let him feel it. Then, with the faintest of smirks, she said, "A boy who doesn’t realize the scale of the game he’s stumbled into."

Kent stared at her, caught between irritation and intrigue. Lena’s words lingered like a blade hovering at his throat, daring him to lean in or pull away.

And then—

Ding!

The sharp chime reverberated in his skull, cutting across her voice.

[System Notice]

New Target Identified: Lena Crestfield

Current Affection Level: 2%

Quest: Earn her genuine interest.

Reward: Ability unlock progress (???)

Kent’s eyes flickered in surprise. The timing was cruel—Lena’s piercing gaze was locked onto his, and if he flinched, she’d see everything.

He forced his face into neutrality, even as the System’s text blazed in the corner of his vision.

Earn her genuine interest...?

Lena arched a brow. "Something wrong?"

"No," Kent said quickly, maybe too quickly. "Just... thinking."

Her smirk returned, subtle and sharp. "Good. I’d hate for you to be one of those boys who act first and think later."

The System pulsed again, faintly.

Note: Target is observing. Careful responses may increase Affection.

Kent’s throat tightened. Great. Now I’ve got an audience and a scoreboard.

Lena tilted her head, studying him like a chess master staring at a piece mid-game. "You’re interesting, Kent Gilbert. You make people curious. Dangerous habit."

He met her stare, refusing to back down this time. "Maybe I like being dangerous."

Her smirk sharpened. "We’ll see."

The hallway was quiet except for the faint buzz of the lights overhead. Lena hadn’t moved, still watching him with that unreadable look, as though she could see past his skin and into whatever he was hiding.

Then she leaned in. Close enough that Kent could catch the faint warmth of her breath against his ear, close enough to make his chest tighten.

"Don’t fool yourself into thinking Derek was your only problem," she murmured. Her tone wasn’t mocking now—it was low, edged with something heavier. "There are bigger eyes watching you. Ones that won’t just throw punches."

Kent froze, a chill running down his spine.

Before he could respond, Lena pulled back, her lips curling in the faintest of smirks, like she enjoyed leaving him off balance. She stepped past him, heels clicking against the tiles, and without another word she walked down the hall, her figure vanishing around the corner. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The silence left in her wake felt heavier than Derek’s fists.

The System chimed softly again:

[Quest Updated]

Lena Crestfield’s Interest: Pending

Progress: 2% → 3%

Kent exhaled slowly, clutching the strap of his bag tighter. He wasn’t sure if Lena was a threat, an ally, or something in between. But one thing was certain—he couldn’t ignore her.

Not now. Not ever.