Picking Up Girls With My Pickup System-Chapter 11: Choosing The Path.

The math teacher’s voice droned at the front of the classroom, but Kent couldn’t hear a thing. Numbers and formulas slid across the whiteboard in neat blue marker, meaningless scratches in a language he couldn’t comprehend.

All he could see was the note.

"Dead after school."

The words pulsed in his memory, each letter sharp as a blade. He’d stuffed the crumpled paper into his pocket, but it felt heavier than his entire backpack. Every shift in his chair made him think someone would notice it, drag him up to the front, and read it aloud.

Ding.

The System’s translucent screen popped into his vision again:

[Survival Mission: Avoid Derek’s Retribution.]

(A) Run away after school.

(B) Seek protection.

(C) Confront Derek.

Kent hunched lower over his desk, teeth clenched. Stop showing me that. I get it. I know.

But the glowing text didn’t fade until he blinked twice, hard.

He tapped his pencil against his notebook, pretending to take notes. His hand wouldn’t stop shaking.

If he ran, maybe he could get away. He could skip the courtyard, slip out the back doors, catch the late bus. Maybe Derek would get bored, move on, forget—

No. Derek didn’t forget. Everyone knew that.

Seek protection? He pictured walking up to a teacher, stammering out Derek’s name. The teacher’s raised eyebrows. The way the story would spread in seconds. Derek’s laughter. His crew’s laughter. The humiliation.

Confront him? His stomach flipped just imagining it. Derek wasn’t just stronger—he was brutal. Kent had seen him pin a kid against the lockers once, the look in his eyes like a predator savoring the kill.

"Gilbert."

Kent jolted upright. The teacher’s shadow fell across his desk. "Problem with the assignment?"

He looked down. His notebook was still blank.

"N-no," Kent muttered, gripping his pencil so tightly it snapped in half. The class laughed.

The teacher sighed and moved on. Kent stared at the broken pencil in his fist, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Ding.

[Reminder: Failure to complete mission may result in loss of Reputation and physical harm.]

Kent wanted to scream. The System didn’t even pretend to care about him. It didn’t offer safety, just choices that all ended in disaster.

The bell finally rang, and the classroom erupted into noise as students filed out. Kent moved slower, stuffing his broken pencil into his pocket. He felt like a condemned man walking the last mile.

And it wasn’t even lunch yet.

******

The cafeteria roared like a stadium—clattering trays, laughter bouncing off the walls, a hundred different conversations colliding at once. Kent hated it. Usually he’d slide into the corner table alone, wolf down food, and vanish before anyone noticed he existed.

Today, he picked the farthest corner he could find, his tray rattling in his hands. His appetite was gone, but he still grabbed pizza and fries just to look normal. He sat, staring at the greasy cheese, thinking only about the note crumpled in his pocket.

Courtyard. After school. Don’t be late.

The sound of a tray slamming down across from him made him flinch.

"Yo, Kent."

Sam. The one guy who sometimes acknowledged him outside of class. Short, mop of messy brown hair, glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, hoodie with a faded video game logo.

Kent forced a nod. "Hey."

Sam squinted at him. "You look like you just watched your dog get hit by a truck. What’s up?"

Kent tried to shake his head, but the words bubbled out before he could stop them. "Derek’s gonna kill me."

Sam froze mid-bite, a fry dangling from his fingers. "...What?"

Kent’s voice dropped to a whisper. "He passed me a note. Said I’m dead after school."

Sam blinked. Then snorted. "Oh, dude. Yeah, he does that. Empty threats. Classic bully move."

Kent leaned forward. "No, Sam. He means it. You didn’t see his face. He—"

Ding!

The System’s glow cut across Kent’s vision.

[Side Mission Unlocked: Gain Ally Support.]

Reward: +1 Social Confidence. Failure: -1 Reputation.]

Kent almost groaned aloud. He couldn’t even vent to his only friend without the System barging in.

Sam leaned back, chewing on his fry, clearly unconvinced. "Okay, so what? You gonna run? Hide in the bathroom until six? Wait him out?"

Kent’s jaw tightened. "You don’t get it. He wants to humiliate me. If I don’t show up, he’ll hunt me down anyway. And then it’ll be worse."

Sam frowned, pushing his glasses up. "Then... talk to a teacher?"

Kent shook his head violently. "That’s suicide."

"Uh, Kent, actual suicide is—"

"Sam!" Kent hissed, gripping the table. "Please. I just—I need someone on my side. Just stand with me. If I don’t look alone, maybe he’ll back off."

Sam stared at him for a long moment. The cafeteria noise seemed to fade. Then he smirked.

"Bro. You’re insane."

Kent’s stomach dropped.

"But..." Sam leaned in, voice low. "...I got your back. Not because I’m brave, but because watching you get wrecked without backup would be depressing as hell." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Ding!

[Side Mission Complete: Gain Ally Support.]

Reward: +1 Social Confidence.]

Kent exhaled for the first time all day.

Sam shrugged, biting into his pizza. "Don’t say I never did anything for you. But seriously—if we die, I’m haunting you."

Kent laughed weakly, though his chest was still tight. At least he wouldn’t be walking into Derek’s storm completely alone.

Kent was halfway through forcing down a soggy fry when a shadow fell across the table.

"Wow."

The voice was smooth, edged with amusement. Kent looked up and almost choked.

Lena.

Her tray balanced effortlessly in one hand, she stood there in her cheer uniform, ponytail swinging as she tilted her head at him. Her eyes—sharp, playful, impossible to read—were locked on Kent, though a couple of her friends hovered behind her, whispering.

"You’re actually sitting with someone," Lena said, lips quirking. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

Sam coughed. "Uh—hi."

Kent’s brain stuttered. "I—I usually sit alone. I mean—not because I want to! Just—uh..."

Sam buried his face in his pizza, muttering, "Smooth."

Lena set her tray down on the edge of their table without asking. "So. What’s this I hear about you and Derek?"

Kent froze. "You—you heard?"

"Please." She arched an eyebrow. "Half the cafeteria’s buzzing about how Derek’s planning some big show after school. He’s been running his mouth all morning."

Kent’s stomach turned to ice. Of course Derek wouldn’t keep it quiet.

Lena leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Is it true? He really called you out?"

Kent’s throat went dry. "Yeah."

Sam muttered, "Dead man walking."

Lena shot him a look, then turned back to Kent. "So what’s your plan, genius? Cry until he gets bored?"

Her words stung, but there was no cruelty in her tone. More... testing.

Kent clenched his jaw. "I’m not running."

Her eyes flickered, and for the briefest moment, something softer crossed her face. Then she smirked. "Huh. Didn’t expect you to say that."

Ding.

[Reputation with Lena increased: +1.]

Kent almost smiled. Not much, but it was something.

Lena stood, grabbing her tray again. "Well, Gilbert, try not to get completely flattened. Would be a shame to see you splattered across the courtyard like a bad TikTok."

With a casual wave, she walked off, her friends trailing behind her.

Kent watched her go, pulse hammering.

Sam whistled low. "Okay, either she just insulted you into the ground, or she kinda... didn’t hate you."

Kent slumped forward, muttering, "I can’t tell anymore."

******

The afternoon dragged like torture.

Kent sat in his final class, staring at the clock above the whiteboard. The second hand crawled forward, each tick echoing in his skull like the click of a loaded gun.

He couldn’t hear the teacher. Couldn’t hear the chatter of students behind him. All he could hear was his own pulse, pounding faster and faster as the final minutes bled away.

After school. Courtyard.

Sam sat a row behind him, tapping his sneaker nervously against the floor. Every now and then, Kent glanced back, catching Sam’s quick nod, like a silent promise: I’m here.

It didn’t help much.

Kent’s palms were slick, his stomach a knot of dread. His mind kept racing through the System’s choices: run, seek help, confront. None of them seemed survivable.

The System didn’t care.

Ding.

[Main Mission Reminder: Survive Derek’s Retribution.]

Warning: Mission commences at end of school day.]

Kent closed his eyes for a second. The glowing text burned behind his eyelids like a curse.

The teacher’s voice droned on about literature—something about metaphors, symbols, whatever. Kent stared blankly at his book, unable to process a word.

The clock ticked.

4 minutes.

3 minutes.

Every breath felt heavier, every muscle wound tight. His pencil trembled in his grip until it slipped and rolled onto the floor with a clatter. Heads turned. He bent quickly, scooping it up, cheeks burning.

Just hold it together. Don’t let them see you fall apart.

The last sixty seconds stretched into eternity. The second hand crawled past each notch, his chest tightening with every beat.

Then—

RIIIIIIING!

The final bell shrieked through the halls. Students shot up, stuffing books into bags, chatter exploding in every direction. Chairs scraped, laughter burst, doors slammed.

Kent sat frozen in his seat.

The bell had tolled.

Ding.

[Main Mission Commencing: Proceed to the courtyard.]

Sam appeared at his desk, face pale, gripping his backpack straps like a lifeline. "Well, buddy. Guess this is it."

Kent swallowed hard, legs trembling as he stood.

The crowd swept toward the door, toward the hallway, toward the place where Derek waited.