Picking Up Girls With My Pickup System-Chapter 3: First Taste Of Power.

Kent woke the next morning with a strange weightlessness in his chest. For once, he hadn’t dreamed of being shoved into lockers or laughed at in the cafeteria. Instead, his mind had replayed one image again and again: Nora smirking as she handed over her number.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His phone blinked on the nightstand—no notifications, no messages, nothing special. But when he caught his reflection in the mirror across the room, something made him pause.

He leaned closer, squinting. His hair was still messy, his jaw still soft, but... was it his posture? His eyes? Something looked different, sharper, like he wasn’t shrinking into himself the way he always did.

Kent tilted his head. "No way."

"Charm and Confidence affect both perception and self-presentation," the System murmured in his head. "Others will notice improvements subconsciously."

"Yeah, no kidding," Kent muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

He got dressed and padded into the kitchen, bracing himself for the usual morning routine: his mom reading emails at the table, barely glancing up before reminding him he’d be late if he didn’t hurry.

But today, when she looked up, her brow actually lifted.

"...Kent?" she said slowly, as if testing the name.

He froze mid-step. "What?"

"You look... different."

His stomach flipped. "Different how?"

She frowned, tilting her head. "I don’t know. Taller, maybe. Or... no, not taller. Just—" she waved vaguely at him with her coffee mug. "More put-together. Did you do something with your hair?"

Kent almost laughed. If "rolling out of bed and glaring into the mirror" counted as styling, then sure.

He shrugged, trying to play it off. "Guess I’m just having a good morning."

His mom actually smiled at him—an honest-to-God, surprised smile. "Well, good. About time you stopped moping around all the time."

Kent grabbed a piece of toast to hide the grin tugging at his mouth. Inside, though, his chest swelled with something that felt dangerously close to pride.

It wasn’t just in his head. People really did notice.

******

The bus ride to school was the same as always—rumbling engine, half-asleep students, the smell of stale chips lingering in the air. But when Kent stepped off and walked toward the entrance, the difference hit him.

Usually, he kept his head down, hugging the strap of his bag and praying no one noticed him. Today, his posture felt... less hunched. His feet hit the ground with more rhythm than shuffle.

And people noticed.

A girl from his homeroom glanced at him, then did a double-take before quickly looking away. A group of guys he vaguely knew from math parted in the hall to let him pass without making a snide comment.

Kent blinked. What the hell...?

It wasn’t that everyone suddenly adored him—far from it. But the invisible label he’d worn for years, the one that screamed "ignore this loser," seemed to have... faded.

At his locker, as he fiddled with the combination, a voice made him freeze.

"Yo, Kent."

He turned. It was Matt, a classmate who usually acted like Kent didn’t exist.

"...Uh. Hey?" Kent managed.

Matt nodded like that was enough and kept walking.

Kent stood there, hand on the lock, utterly bewildered. Did... did Matt just acknowledge me?

The System’s voice hummed softly in his head. "Charm influences first impressions. Confidence alters body language. The Host is becoming more noticeable."

"Noticeable," Kent muttered, pulling the locker open. "Yeah, that’s one way to put it."

For once, being noticed didn’t feel like a bad thing.

As he grabbed his books, he caught another glance from down the hall—this time from a girl in a pink hoodie, hair tied up in a messy bun. She tilted her head at him like she was trying to place his face. Normally, Kent would’ve panicked, slammed the locker shut, and fled.

But instead, something in him—something small but real—kept his shoulders squared. He met her eyes for half a second before looking away, heart pounding.

And she... smiled. Just a tiny, polite smile before turning back to her friends.

Kent shut his locker slowly. What is happening to my life right now?

By the time first period rolled around, Kent was trying hard not to psych himself out. He slid into his usual seat near the back, expecting to blend into the background like always.

But today, it felt different.

When Mr. Halloway, their history teacher, started lecturing about the Industrial Revolution, Kent actually found himself listening—really listening—instead of zoning out and counting the cracks in the ceiling tiles.

Then came the moment.

"Gilbert," Mr. Halloway’s sharp voice cut through the classroom. "Since you’re awake for once, why don’t you tell us what year the first railroads began construction in Britain?"

Normally, that would’ve been Kent’s nightmare. His palms would sweat, his tongue would tangle, and the whole class would get a free comedy show at his expense.

But today—he opened his mouth, and the answer just came out.

"Uh... 1825. The Stockton and Darlington Railway, right?"

The room went quiet.

Mr. Halloway raised his brows. "...That’s correct."

A ripple of whispers moved through the classroom. Someone muttered, "No way," and someone else snickered in disbelief.

Kent felt heat climb his neck, but it wasn’t from humiliation this time. His heart thumped hard, but his voice hadn’t cracked. He hadn’t stuttered. He’d just... said it.

He caught Derek’s eyes across the room. Derek leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a frown pulling at his mouth. The smug amusement he usually wore when Kent spoke was gone.

Instead, he looked... annoyed.

Kent swallowed hard and glanced down at his notebook, trying to hide the tiny, almost dangerous smile tugging at his lips.

The System’s voice hummed approvingly. "Confidence affects performance under pressure. Positive reputation is forming."

Kent tapped his pencil against the desk. Reputation... huh. Guess Derek’s not a fan of that.

For the first time, the idea didn’t terrify him.

Kent was still riding the strange high of not crashing and burning when the System’s screen blinked to life in front of his eyes.

The glowing text unfolded across his vision:

New Quest Generated.

Objective: Make a female classmate laugh before the period ends.

Timer: 15 minutes.

Reward: +2 Wit, +2 Confidence.

Penalty: Trip and fall flat on your face in front of the entire class.

Kent nearly choked on his own spit. What?!

He coughed into his sleeve, eyes darting around the classroom. Everyone else was scribbling notes or pretending to, no idea that his life had just turned into a game show.

He gritted his teeth. Are you insane? In class?

"Adaptability is crucial to success," the System’s cool voice echoed. "Failure to entertain results in social collapse."

Kent wanted to scream. Social collapse? His entire existence was social collapse.

He glanced at the clock. The second hand ticked away mercilessly.

Fourteen minutes left.

His eyes flicked across the room. There were plenty of girls in class, but who could he even try with?

Directly in front of him sat Chloe Martin, with her neat braids and color-coded notes. Serious, smart, never even looked at Kent except to glare if he shuffled too loudly. Making her laugh would be like cracking open a bank vault.

Two seats over, Mia Flores was doodling in her notebook instead of listening. She laughed a lot—usually at her friends’ jokes, never Kent’s. Maybe possible.

And then there was Derek, lounging back with his stupid grin as he whispered something to the girl next to him. She giggled, swatting his arm.

Kent clenched his fists. Derek had always been the funny one, the charming one. Him making people laugh was effortless. But Kent? If he opened his mouth wrong, he’d be the punchline.

The glowing timer counted down in his peripheral vision.

13:09... 13:08... 13:07...

Kent’s palms grew clammy. He had to do something. Fast.

Kent’s knee bounced under the desk as the timer kept ticking down.

11:45... 11:44... 11:43...

Every second made his heart hammer harder. He couldn’t just decide to be funny. He wasn’t Derek.

Mr. Halloway droned on about factory labor conditions, chalk squeaking against the blackboard. Chloe Martin raised her hand, correcting him on some tiny detail, and the teacher nodded approvingly.

The class groaned.

And suddenly—something in Kent snapped.

Before he could stop himself, his voice rang out. "Careful, Mr. Halloway. If you let Chloe keep fact-checking you, she’s gonna end up teaching the class instead."

The words left his mouth and he instantly wanted to die. His face burned, his chest seized, and he waited for the backlash.

But instead—

A ripple of laughter rolled through the room.

Mia actually snorted into her notebook. A guy in the back clapped Kent on the shoulder like he’d just delivered a killer punchline. Even Chloe froze, lips parting in shock, before glaring at him with pink cheeks.

And then—she smiled. Just barely. But enough.

Kent blinked, stunned.

The System’s text flared bright in front of him:

Quest Completed!

+2 Wit.

+2 Confidence.

His stat screen blinked into view:

Wit: 1 → 3

Confidence: 4 → 6

Kent’s hands trembled under the desk. I... I actually did it.

Mr. Halloway frowned at the class, chalk poised mid-air. "Alright, alright, settle down. This isn’t a comedy club."

The room quieted, but not before more than a few students were still sneaking glances at Kent—like they were seeing him for the first time.

And Derek... Derek’s smile had vanished.

The way he glared at Kent was sharp enough to cut glass.

Kent swallowed hard. Uh-oh.

The buzz in Kent’s veins didn’t fade.

For once, he wasn’t invisible. People looked at him—actually looked—and it wasn’t with pity or amusement. Some looked surprised. Some looked curious. And a few, like Mia, still had faint smiles tugging at their lips.

Kent hunched over his notebook, trying to act casual, but his chest felt like it might burst. The System’s cool voice chimed in his head:

"Congratulations, Host. Social trajectory improving. Keep momentum."

He scribbled nonsense on the page, afraid if he didn’t, he’d start grinning like a maniac. Momentum, huh? For the first time, he could almost believe it.

But then he felt it.

That stare.

Slowly, Kent glanced sideways. Derek was leaned back in his chair, arms folded, eyes locked on Kent like a predator spotting competition in its territory. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with something darker.

Kent’s throat went dry.

Derek leaned toward the girl next to him, whispering something. She giggled again, but Derek’s gaze never wavered from Kent.

The message was clear.

Kent wasn’t supposed to change the script. He wasn’t supposed to step out of the role Derek had shoved him into years ago. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

But now... Kent had.

The bell rang, jolting the room back to life. Chairs scraped, backpacks rustled, voices filled the air.

Kent shoved his books into his bag, trying not to look like he was rushing.

As he slung it over his shoulder, Derek brushed past him on the way out, close enough to mutter under his breath:

"Enjoy your little joke, Gilbert. Won’t last long."

Kent froze.

But when Derek was gone, he realized something shocking. Instead of fear knotting his stomach... there was something else simmering beneath the nerves.

Defiance.

The System hummed, almost approvingly. "Conflict detected. Rival established."

Kent exhaled slowly. Guess I just made my first enemy.