Picking Up Girls With My Pickup System-Chapter 22: Under The Microscope.

The halls of Ridgeview High had never been louder.

Or maybe it wasn’t the volume—maybe it was just Kent’s awareness.

Every whisper seemed to trail behind him, every sideways glance felt aimed like a dart at his back. He could hear snatches of words as he passed clusters of students huddled around glowing phone screens.

"Yo, that’s him—that’s Gilbert!"

"No way, he really caught it like that?"

"Derek looked like such an idiot, bro."

"Careful saying that too loud. Derek’ll kill you when he’s back."

The laughter, the gasps, the conspiratorial mutters—they all followed him. Kent adjusted the strap of his backpack and tried to keep walking, but the buzzing never stopped.

The System helpfully confirmed what his gut already knew.

[Reputation Tracker Updated]

Students — Rising

Subdivision Detected: Supporters (+), Skeptics (–).

Rivals — Hostile.

Kent clenched his jaw. Great. Not only was he under the spotlight, but now the System was giving him statistics about his social life like this was some messed-up video game leaderboard.

He turned the corner toward homeroom and nearly collided with two freshmen who were glued to a phone screen. They yelped, then looked up, eyes wide like they’d just bumped into a celebrity.

"Dude," one whispered, nudging the other. "It’s him."

Kent gave them a flat look. "Yeah. Congratulations. You have eyes."

They laughed nervously and scurried off.

Inside the classroom, it was no better. Heads lifted when he entered, a ripple of murmurs spreading through the rows. Phones tilted discreetly, no doubt recording his every move.

"Settle down," Mrs. Reynolds said sharply, clapping her hands. She shot Kent a look that was... complicated. Not exactly angry, not exactly approving. Something in between.

As Kent slid into his seat, the System flared again.

[Faculty Reputation Tracker Unlocked]

Faculty — Neutral (Fluctuating).

He stared at the notification, almost groaning. Perfect. Now I’ve got to keep teachers happy too.

Mrs. Reynolds cleared her throat, her tone softening slightly as she glanced his way. "Gilbert... despite yesterday’s incident, I expect you to remain focused in my class. Your ability to keep composure will serve you well—if you choose to use it properly."

A few students exchanged surprised looks. Was that... praise? From Mrs. Reynolds, of all people?

Kent just nodded. "Yes, ma’am."

The words tasted strange on his tongue.

But not every teacher saw it the same way.

By third period, Mr. Rowley—the history teacher notorious for his temper—was glaring holes through Kent the second he walked in.

"Sit," Rowley barked. "And wipe that smirk off your face."

Kent blinked. "I wasn’t—"

"Don’t play games with me, Gilbert. You might impress your friends by acting like a delinquent, but in this classroom, you’re on thin ice."

The class fell silent. All eyes darted between Kent and Rowley, waiting for sparks to fly.

The System whispered in the corner of his vision:

[Faculty Reputation Shift: Slightly Negative]

Warning: Authority figures are more likely to scrutinize you.

Kent swallowed his retort. For once, he didn’t give the smart mouth reply clawing its way up his throat. He just muttered, "Yes, sir," and slid into his seat.

Rowley eyed him suspiciously but moved on, launching into a lecture about post-war treaties.

Kent sat there, pulse steadying, but his mind racing. This was different. Yesterday, it was about survival—catching Derek’s fist, proving he wasn’t prey. Now, it felt like the rules of the game had shifted.

It wasn’t just fists anymore. It was perception.

The System confirmed his unease:

[New Mechanic: Dual Reputation]

You are now judged by both peers and faculty.

Balance is required to avoid critical consequences (expulsion, isolation, or worse).

Kent pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, "Fantastic. Just fantastic."

From behind him, someone whispered, "Yo, he’s actually stressing. Didn’t think he could."

Kent didn’t turn around. He didn’t have to. Every move he made was already being dissected.

And the day had only just begun.

Kent slumped into his seat as the morning dragged on, eyes darting between his teacher and the faint glowing prompts still lingering at the edge of his vision. Every classroom felt heavier than usual, as though the walls themselves were in on the gossip.

He wasn’t imagining it. Heads turned whenever he moved. Notes were passed, whispers traded, side-eyes shot his way.

And always—always—the same word surfaced in the murmurs:

"Derek."

By the time the lunch bell rang, Kent’s nerves were frayed. Jake practically body-checked him in the hallway, expression caught somewhere between excitement and alarm.

"Alright," Jake said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "we need a state of the union."

Kent gave him a look. "State of what now?"

Jake dragged him to the side, out of the flow of students. "Of the school, man! You think you can just dropkick Derek Lorn into irrelevance and not cause a social earthquake?"

Kent exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please don’t use the words ’dropkick’ and ’Derek’ in the same sentence while I’m still within earshot of the principal’s office."

Jake ignored him, pulling out his phone. The screen was filled with dozens of screenshots, memes, slowed-down clips. "Look at this. You catching his punch has been replayed more times than the last viral TikTok dance. Someone already added anime music to it. And the comments—oh, the comments are split right down the middle."

He scrolled rapidly, showing Kent snippets:

#TeamKent: "Bro’s got protagonist energy."

#JusticeForDerek: "He humiliated our boy, just wait till suspension’s over."

Neutral zone: "Lowkey, cafeteria fights are more entertaining than Netflix."

Kent groaned. "Fantastic. I’m trending for not dying."

Jake smirked. "Correction—you’re trending for making the undefeated king look like an idiot. But here’s the kicker: every clique is taking sides."

He ticked them off on his fingers.

"The jocks? Split. Some respect you for standing your ground, others think you crossed a line. The nerds and gamers? You’re practically a demigod now. Memes everywhere. The populars? Mixed reviews. Half think you’re interesting, half think you’re an attention hog."

He leaned closer. "And Derek’s crew? They’re not just salty. They’re plotting."

The System chose that moment to flicker across Kent’s vision:

[Reputation Meter Updated]

• Students — Rising (Fragmented into Supporters vs Skeptics)

• Rivals — Hostile (expanding beyond Derek)

• Faculty — Neutral

Kent’s stomach sank. Expanding?

"Translation," Jake said gravely, "you’ve officially started a social war. And buddy, wars have factions."

Kent wanted to laugh it off, but the truth hit like ice. This wasn’t just about Derek anymore. His fight had split the school into camps, and no matter what he did, someone would be waiting to twist it.

He muttered, "All I wanted was to eat my lunch in peace..."

Jake clapped him on the back. "Well, congrats. You’re a full-blown school-wide event now. Buckle up."

The System pulsed again, almost smugly:

[New Dynamic Unlocked: Faction Influence]

Your reputation will now diverge across groups. Choices may strengthen one faction while alienating another. Balance carefully.

Kent rubbed his face. High school was no longer just survival—it was politics.

And in politics, someone always sharpened a knife.

By the time Kent and Jake reached the cafeteria, the whispers had evolved into something heavier—rumors.

Derek might’ve been suspended, but his presence still haunted the school like a shadow stretching through every hallway. His name clung to the air, carried from one table to another.

"He’s planning something when he gets back."

"Dude’s not gonna let this slide."

"They say he’s already talked to his guys—Kent better watch his back."

Kent heard every word. He didn’t need the System to tell him that tension had only shifted, not vanished.

Jake leaned in, keeping his voice low. "I heard from Sam in gym—Derek’s crew is restless. Apparently, a couple of them think you need to be ’put in your place’ before he returns. Like... a warm-up act."

Kent set his tray down, appetite vanishing. "So now I’ve got mini-bosses lining up?"

The System chimed in as if on cue, crisp text slicing across his vision:

[Sub-Quest Unlocked: Survive the Week]

Condition: Endure rival provocations until Derek’s return.

Reward: Reputation Tier Advancement.

Penalty: Major Reputation Loss.

Kent let out a hollow laugh. "Fantastic. A survival challenge. Just what I needed."

Jake eyed him. "You think this is funny?"

"No," Kent muttered, stabbing at his food with his fork. "It’s terrifying. But laughing is the only way I’m not screaming."

They sat at their usual spot, though "usual" had become relative. Within minutes, Kent noticed the cafeteria had rearranged itself around him. Some students deliberately took seats nearby, clearly curious. A pair of underclassmen whispered loudly before mustering the courage to approach.

"Uh, hey, Gilbert," one said, voice trembling. "Mind if we sit with you? That thing you did yesterday was... insane. Like, legend-tier insane."

Jake grinned. "Fans already. Told you."

Kent managed a polite nod, though the attention made his skin prickle. Before he could respond, a glob of mashed potatoes splattered onto his tray.

The underclassmen jumped back.

Kent’s head snapped toward the source—two of Derek’s allies, grinning from their table across the room. One lifted his spoon like a catapult, daring Kent to respond.

The System pulsed again, laying out options like a cruel game menu:

[Event Triggered: Provocation Test]

Choose a response:

Ignore: Maintain composure. Risk: Appearing weak. Reward: Respect from faculty.

Retaliate: Return fire. Risk: Escalation, detention. Reward: Admiration from peers.

Verbal Counter: Humiliate without violence. Risk: Sharp backlash. Reward: Reputation boost with neutrals.

Jake whispered urgently, "Careful, man. This is exactly what they want—make you snap, then they say you’re no better than Derek."

Kent’s grip tightened around his fork. His heart hammered, caught between anger and strategy. Every eye in the cafeteria was on him, waiting to see what "the kid who stood up to Derek" would do next.

The mashed potatoes dripped slowly off his tray, each drop loud in the silence.

He could feel Derek’s absence like a storm cloud on the horizon—but the lightning had already started striking.

And this was only day one.

The cafeteria had never been quieter.

Hundreds of eyes bore into Kent as the mashed potatoes oozed across his tray. The laughter from Derek’s allies echoed, sharp and deliberate, like hyenas circling prey.

The System’s glowing prompt still hovered in Kent’s vision:

[Provocation Test: Pending]

Choose now.

His pulse quickened. He knew that if he froze again, if he hesitated, he’d lose everything he had gained yesterday. The crowd didn’t want silence—they wanted a spectacle.

Kent forced himself to breathe, then set down his fork. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed his tray aside, leaving the mess in plain view. His chair squeaked as he stood, drawing even more attention.

Jake whispered urgently, "Bro, don’t—"

Kent ignored him. He looked across the cafeteria, locking eyes with the smirking duo who had thrown the food. His voice carried, not loud, but sharp enough to cut through the silence.

"Really?" he said, tilting his head. "That’s your big move? Mashed potatoes? Did Derek forget to teach you how to throw a punch?"

A ripple of laughter erupted from nearby tables. A couple of students even clapped. The smirk faltered on one of the boys’ faces.

Kent didn’t stop there. "If you’re auditioning to be Derek’s backup dancers, you might want to start with something less... pathetic."

The cafeteria roared. Phones rose into the air again, recording every second. The System chimed:

[Choice Confirmed: Verbal Counter]

Crowd approval: Rising

Rival morale: Faltering

The two boys stood up now, their chairs screeching against the floor. One balled his fists. "You think you’re funny, Gilbert?"

Kent’s smirk held steady, though his stomach twisted with nerves. "Funnier than you."

It was the same line he’d used against Derek—and the crowd lost it. Laughter, cheers, table-pounding. Jake slapped his forehead, half horrified, half impressed.

The boys froze, caught between rage and the weight of the audience. Everyone was watching, waiting. If they lunged now, they’d look like Derek’s sloppy imitators.

And they knew it.

Finally, one spat onto the floor, muttering, "This isn’t over." They shoved past the crowd, storming out of the cafeteria.

The noise that followed was deafening—cheers, chants, phones flashing like paparazzi. For the second day in a row, Kent was the center of the storm.

The System flashed one last time, text glowing like a reward screen:

[Sub-Event Complete: Cafeteria Aftershock]

Reputation (Students): +20

Faction Influence: Nerds, Misfits (Admiration ↑), Jocks (Division ↑), Populars (Interest ↑).

Warning: Rival retaliation probability increased.

Kent sat back down, adrenaline still burning in his chest. His hands shook under the table, but outwardly he leaned back like nothing had happened.

Jake stared at him, wide-eyed. "Dude... you’re insane. Like, clinically."

Kent forced a grin. "Or maybe I just passed level two."

Jake groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You realize you’ve basically declared war on half the school, right?"

Kent’s grin faded just slightly. He knew Jake wasn’t wrong.

The cafeteria buzzed on around him, but beneath the cheers and laughter, Kent could already feel the storm building. Derek wasn’t here—but his shadow had teeth.

And sooner or later, those teeth were going to bite back.

When the cafeteria settled back into a dull roar, Kent thought maybe—just maybe—he could finally breathe again.

That hope lasted less than two minutes.

From the far side of the room, someone moved against the flow of bodies. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the effortless stride of someone who didn’t need to prove themselves. His presence drew glances immediately—not just from Kent, but from everyone.

The upperclassman.

Kent recognized him instantly. The same guy who had stopped Derek outside Principal Caldwell’s office yesterday. Back then, he’d been more shadow than substance, a voice that cut tension in half. Now, in the full light of the cafeteria, there was no mistaking his weight in the social ecosystem.

Juniors and seniors parted without a word as he passed. Even some of Derek’s allies lowered their eyes.

He stopped right at Kent’s table.

"You," the upperclassman said simply.

Kent tensed. Phones were already out again, eager for the sequel. Jake muttered under his breath, "Great, now the raid boss shows up."

The upperclassman ignored Jake and studied Kent with sharp, calculating eyes. Then, to everyone’s shock, he pulled out a chair and sat across from him.

The cafeteria noise dimmed into an awed murmur.

"I didn’t expect you to hold your ground," the upperclassman said, voice steady, measured. "Derek doesn’t get challenged often, and when he does... it usually doesn’t end well."

Kent swallowed, forcing himself to stay calm. "Yeah, I noticed."

The guy gave a short chuckle. "Name’s Adrian Cross. Track captain. Senior."

The System pinged instantly:

[New Character Detected: Adrian Cross]

Faction Affiliation: Populars + Athletes

Influence Level: High

Disposition: Neutral / Curious

Adrian leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "You’ve shaken things up, Gilbert. The school runs on unwritten rules. Derek was at the top of one food chain. You cracked that chain in half."

Kent frowned. "So what—you’re here to warn me off?"

Adrian shook his head. "Not exactly. I’m here to tell you the truth. Fights aren’t just fists here. They’re alliances. One wrong move, and you’ll find yourself outnumbered."

The System flickered again, this time with a brand-new mechanic:

[Faction System Unlocked]

Students are divided into key groups:

Jocks – Strength, dominance, hierarchy

Populars – Social influence, image control

Nerds/Gamers – Online clout, creativity, strategy

Misfits/Outcasts – Rebellion, unpredictability

Faculty – Authority, discipline, oversight

Your actions will shift alliances and rivalries. Build carefully.

Kent blinked hard, trying not to react visibly. Great. Just when I thought I was juggling enough, now the school’s an RPG faction war.

Adrian studied him. "You’ve got guts, Gilbert. But guts without strategy? That’s suicide." He leaned back, glancing around at the cafeteria still buzzing about Kent. "The eyes are on you now. If you want to survive what’s coming, you’re going to need more than quick jokes. You’ll need allies."

Jake raised a brow. "And let me guess... you’re offering?"

Adrian smirked faintly. "I don’t offer. I watch. I measure. Then I decide." His eyes locked onto Kent’s again. "Show me you’re worth backing, and maybe you won’t have to fight this war alone."

Then he stood, his chair scraping quietly against the floor. Without another word, Adrian walked away, leaving a silence behind him heavier than before.

The System chimed softly:

[Sub-Quest Initiated: Prove Your Worth]

Objective: Demonstrate value to Adrian Cross.

Reward: Potential Alliance with Upperclassmen.

Jake exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, what the hell was that? The dude walks over like a mob boss and drops lore like we’re in the middle of a video game."

Kent’s jaw tightened, eyes following Adrian until he vanished into the crowd. "That wasn’t lore," he muttered. "That was a warning."

And maybe, just maybe, an opportunity.

The buzz from Adrian’s visit hadn’t even cooled before the atmosphere shifted again.

Kent could feel it before he saw it. The prickling weight of stares, the subtle ripple of space opening in the cafeteria crowd.

Someone was walking toward him.

This time, it wasn’t Adrian.

It was a familiar face, though one Kent had only noticed on the periphery of Derek’s shadow before—tall, leaner than Derek, with sharp features and an expression that practically dripped arrogance. He wore his backpack slung over one shoulder, like he had all the time in the world.

Students whispered as he passed:

"That’s Vince, right? Derek’s guy."

"Yeah. One of his crew."

"Dude’s reckless. This is gonna get ugly."

Jake muttered under his breath, "Oh, great. Mini-boss fight."

Vince didn’t waste time. He strolled right up to Kent’s table, the corners of his mouth tugged into a smirk. He set his tray down with deliberate ease and leaned forward, planting both hands on the table.

"You’ve been busy, Gilbert." His voice carried enough for the surrounding crowd to hear. "People are acting like you’re some kind of hero. Like Derek didn’t almost rearrange your face."

Kent’s pulse ticked upward. He kept his gaze steady. "Almost isn’t the same as did."

Laughter rippled across the tables. Vince’s smirk widened.

"Cute. Real cute." He leaned in closer. "But don’t think for a second Derek’s suspension means you’re off the hook. He sent me to remind you—" Vince paused, straightening to his full height, "—that you’re not untouchable."

The System pulsed instantly:

[Boss Encounter Incoming: Rival’s Proxy]

Name: Vince Marek

Faction: Jocks (Derek’s Crew)

Disposition: Hostile

Objective: Undermine Kent’s reputation in Derek’s absence.

The cafeteria grew louder, students shifting forward in their seats, phones already raised.

Jake groaned, whispering fast, "Bro, seriously, can we get one lunch without somebody trying to murder you?"

Kent ignored him. He could feel the air thickening, tension weaving into every sound. Vince wasn’t just here to deliver a message—he was here to test Kent, to see if Derek’s humiliation was going to stick or not.

Vince crossed his arms, letting his voice cut over the crowd. "So here’s the deal. You want to play tough guy, that’s fine. But sooner or later, Derek’s coming back. And when he does, you won’t be laughing. Hell, you won’t even be standing."

A hush fell.

The System flashed again, bold and merciless:

[Decision Point: Confront Vince]

Choose your approach:

Dismiss: Shrug him off, act like he’s beneath you. Reward: Control the narrative through calm confidence. Risk: Vince escalates physically.

Mock: Use wit to flip the crowd against him. Reward: Social boost. Risk: High retaliation probability.

Challenge: Call him out directly, raise the stakes. Reward: Dominance gain. Risk: Potential fight → Detention/Suspension.

Kent’s smirk returned slowly, almost instinctively. The whole cafeteria was waiting—hungry for the sequel.

Vince’s eyes narrowed. "What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue again?"

Kent leaned back in his chair, deliberately casual despite the storm gathering in his chest. "No," he said calmly. "I’m just deciding whether you’re worth the effort."

Gasps broke out immediately. The crowd erupted, laughter and shouts ricocheting off the walls. Jake slapped a hand over his face.

Vince’s smirk snapped into a scowl. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring.

The System chimed again, its text burning hot across Kent’s vision:

[Status Update: Rival Vince – Provoked]

Next move imminent. Prepare yourself.

The Chapter ended with Vince’s hand balling into a fist, his knuckles whitening as he stepped closer to Kent’s table—while every eye in the cafeteria widened in anticipation of what came next.