Chapter 189: 189 | Where’s the Fat Lottery Loser?

I woke up with a killer headache from yesterday’s extraction marathon. My body felt hollowed out, muscles aching from sprinting through golden haze with Belle for hours. Totally worth it though.

The alarm blared 6:15 AM. Garrett’s endurance benchmarks started at 8:00 sharp, which meant I needed to be there by 7:30 to warm up properly.

"Fuck my life," I mumbled, rolling out of bed.

My phone buzzed with messages from the group chat Belle had created:

Managing the Milk Vampire

Belle: Don’t forget benchmarks today. Also Jace gave me SILVER TIER TREASURE SENSE yesterday so I found four hidden mana deposits in my dorm building alone.

Naomi: No fair! I want gold tier next time Jace!

Aurora: Wait we’re comparing buffs now? Because mine lasted 48 hours and let me pass my combat practical with a perfect score.

Belle: Bitch we know. You’ve mentioned it six times.

Naomi: Girls please. Jace loves us all equally. Right Jace?

I stared at my phone. There was absolutely no correct answer to that question.

I’m going to shower now. See you all at training.

Belle: COWARD

Aurora: Typical

Naomi: ♥

I tossed my phone onto the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. The mirror showed a face I still barely recognized – sharp jawline, cheekbones visible for the first time since puberty. My body had transformed almost completely in three weeks. The baggy fat kid was gone, replaced by someone who looked like they actually belonged at San Nicolas Academy.

The hot water pounded against my skin, washing away yesterday’s sweat and traces of Belle’s perfume. My stats screen floated in my vision:

PHYSICAL STATS

Strength [C] ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ (1/10)

Endurance [D] ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▱ (9/10)

Agility [D] ▰▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱▱ (1/10)

Perception [D] ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱ (8/10)

Magic [D] ▰▰▰▰▰▰▱▱▱▱ (6/10)

So close to upgrading Endurance. One more segment and I’d hit C-rank. Maybe today’s benchmark would push me over the edge.

I dressed in the new athletic gear Aurora had bought me – compression shirt that actually fit, shorts that didn’t hang off my ass, and running shoes that cost more than my first car. Everything bearing that little swoosh logo that meant you paid triple what the materials were worth.

Looking like a million bucks to get my ass handed to me by Garrett. Perfection.

The morning was classic California – clear blue sky, temperature in the mid-60s, perfect running weather. I jogged across campus toward the north field, where Obsidian always held their benchmark days. Students streamed from various dorms, most looking like they’d rather be literally anywhere else.

My phone buzzed.

Misato: Meeting spot near oak tree. Be there in 5.

I changed direction, spotting the massive oak at the edge of the field. Jordan was already there, leaning against the trunk with his arms crossed and eyes closed. Naomi sat cross-legged on the grass nearby, tying her shoes. Belle hadn’t arrived yet.

"Morning," I said.

Jordan grunted without opening his eyes.

Naomi looked up, her face breaking into a smile that hit me in the chest. "Morning! How are you feeling?"

"Like someone hollowed me out with a spoon. You?"

"Ready to set a new personal record." She finished tying her shoes and bounced to her feet. Her arm had healed perfectly after the Reaper incident – academy healers were no joke. "You look good in that shirt."

"Aurora’s doing."

"I know. She texted photos from your shopping trip."

Belle appeared, jogging up to our group with her blue hair bouncing in a high ponytail. She wore black compression shorts that hugged her hips and a sports bra that strained against her chest. Every male student within fifty feet turned to watch her approach.

"You’re all disgustingly early," she said.

Jordan yawned. "Some of us value punctuality."

"Some of us value sleep." Belle flicked his shoulder, then turned to me. Her eyes lingered on my chest before meeting my gaze. "Looking good, milk vampire."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Can we not with that nickname in public?"

"What? It’s accurate."

"It’s obvious."

"It’s funny."

"It’s—"

"Children," Misato interrupted, appearing behind Belle. "Focus. Today’s benchmarks determine our placement for the next inter-house competition."

I’d never seen Misato in workout clothes before. She always wore her uniform or combat gear. But now she stood in black leggings and a fitted tank top that showed off muscles I hadn’t realized she had. Her usual severity softened by a more casual appearance.

"What exactly are these benchmarks?" I asked.

"Three tests," Misato explained. "One-mile run, maximum pull-ups, and the combat obstacle course. Your total score determines your endurance ranking within the house."

"Sounds fun," I deadpanned.

"It’s hell," Jordan corrected. "Garrett makes it hell on purpose."

Belle shrugged. "At least Vale isn’t here to make it worse."

"Vale’s in Seoul this week," Misato said. "Some kind of guild conference."

"Thank fuck for small mercies," Jordan muttered.

We walked toward the field where students gathered in their house groups. Sapphire kids in their blue workout gear clustered near the track’s starting line. Ruby students stretched in a chaotic mass of red. Amber had formed perfect lines because of course they had.

And then there was Obsidian – black clothing, serious faces, students already warming up with military precision.

"There they are," Belle whispered, nodding toward a group standing apart from the others.

Blair Davenport stood with her arms crossed, spine straight, red hair catching the morning light. She wore designer workout clothes that probably cost more than my monthly stipend. Beside her stood Hikaru, still maintaining her male disguise with short hair and athletic tape binding her chest flat. Charles Leone loomed behind them, his expression sour like he’d been forced to associate with peasants.

"Let’s avoid them," Naomi suggested.

"Too late," Jordan said. "Blair’s seen us."

Blair’s eyes swept over our group, narrowing slightly. She leaned toward Hikaru, saying something that made Charles snicker. I could read Blair’s lips from here:

"Where’s the fat lottery loser? Did he quit after getting a little injured in a gate?"

Belle tensed beside me. "That bitch."

I put a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Relax."

"But she’s—"

"Watch." I smiled, then raised my hand and waved directly at Blair.

Blair’s eyes flicked to me, then away, then snapped back with comical speed. Her jaw actually dropped. She stared like I’d grown a second head, blinking rapidly as though her eyes were malfunctioning.

"Is that... Monroe?"