My Milf Conqueror System novel Chapter 34

Chapter 34: The disruptor

The engine of the Shelby Cobra roared like a trapped beast as we tore down the coastal highway toward campus. The wind whipped through the open cockpit, making conversation impossible, which was exactly what I wanted.

I needed a minute to think.

My hands gripped the wooden steering wheel, knuckles white. I wasn’t just driving a car worth more than my parents’ house; I was driving for my life.

A flashback hit me—a memory from just two hours ago, standing in front of the mirror in my dorm room, the System interface hovering in the stale air.

I had pulled up the [Stats] tab, needing to see exactly what I was working with before facing Victoria. But before the current numbers loaded, the System glitched for a split second, flashing my original profile from three months ago—a ghostly reminder of where I had started.

[Host Profile]

[Name: Jake Hart]

[Level: 1]

[Title: Invisible Male]

[Stats]

Vitality: 12

Charm: 9

Confidence: 17

Intelligence: 11

Social Presence: 4

Stamina: 10

[Status]

Influence Rank: F

Wealth: $35

System Authority: Level 1

Social Presence: 4

I had been a ghost. A nobody. A guy who could walk through a crowded room without a single head turning. Wealth: $35. That was barely enough for a week of ramen.

Then, the screen refreshed, showing my current reality. The numbers were higher, the titles grander, but the threat was infinitely worse.

[User: Jake Hart]

[Level: 2 (The Disruptor)]

[Title: The Boss (Campus)]

[Attributes]

Charisma: 18/20 (Buffed by ’Formal Wear’ + ’Confidence’)

Intelligence: 16/20 (Buffed by ’MBA Study’ + ’Nia’s Intel’)

Intimidation: 14/20 (Buffed by ’Darius’ + ’Thorne Victory’)

Stamina: 12/20 (Needs improvement)

[Active Effects]

Academic Immunity: Active (Expires in 6 Days, 14 Hours). Prevents expulsion/audit.

Iron Will: Cooldown. Immunity to fear.

[Pending Penalties]

The Pariah: If Victoria Mission Fails. All Attributes reduced to 0. Social interactions become impossible.

Expulsion: If Elena Mission Fails. Game Over.

I had stared at those numbers. If I failed with Victoria, I wouldn’t just slide back to Level 1. I would be worse than invisible. I’d be a social leper. I wouldn’t be able to talk my way out of a parking ticket, let alone seduce a Dean.

I had closed the interface, my reflection looking back at me. I didn’t look like a Disruptor. I looked like a kid trying to hold back a landslide.

"Don’t be boring," I had whispered to the mirror. "Whatever you do, don’t be boring."

Back in the present, I downshifted as we hit the campus gates. The engine growled, popping and spitting as we slowed.

Victoria Sterling turned to me, her hair windblown but her sunglasses still perfectly in place. She didn’t look terrified. She looked... alive.

"You drive aggressively, Mr. Hart," she shouted over the engine. "I like that. Most students drive like they’re afraid of scratching the paint."

"Most students are driving their dad’s Camry," I shouted back. "This isn’t a Camry."

I bypassed the main entrance—the one with the security guard and the ’Welcome Parents’ sign. Instead, I took a sharp left onto a service road that cut behind the stadium.

"Where are we going?" Victoria asked, gripping the door handle. "The Admissions Office is that way."

"You’ve seen an admissions office," I said. "Desks. Pamphlets. Sad coffee. You wanted to know why Isabella should stay here? I’m taking you to where the real work happens."

I pulled the Cobra up to the back entrance of the Engineering Lab—Nia’s domain.

"We’re here," I said, killing the engine. The silence was sudden and ringing.

Victoria looked at the nondescript concrete building. "A basement?"

"The Incubator," I corrected. "This is where the students who are too smart for class hang out. It’s where the next three unicorns are being built right now."

I got out and opened her door. She stepped out, smoothing her white pantsuit. She looked skeptical, but curious.

"Lead the way, Mr. Hart."

We walked down the stairs. I swiped my key card—the one Elena had upgraded for me.

Inside, the lab was chaos. But it was productive chaos. Students were welding a drone frame in one corner. In another, a group was arguing violently about blockchain code.

And in the center, Nia was running a simulation on three monitors.

"Nia," I called out.

She spun around. She wasn’t wearing her hoodie today. She was wearing a ’NASA’ t-shirt and looked surprisingly presentable. (I had texted her ’Code Red: The Matriarch’ ten minutes ago).

"Jake," she said, standing up. She looked at Victoria. "You brought a suit."

"This is Ms. Sterling," I said. "She thinks we’re a party school."

Nia snorted. "I wish. I haven’t been to a party since freshman year. I’m too busy trying to crack this encryption algorithm for the DoD grant."

Victoria’s eyebrows shot up. "Department of Defense?"

"Subcontractor," Nia said casually. "We’re building a localized mesh network for disaster relief. Or for spying. They didn’t specify."

Victoria walked over to the monitors. She looked at the code. She looked at the drone. She looked at the energy in the room.

"Isabella isn’t an engineer," Victoria said, turning to me. "She’s a Liberal Arts major. What does this have to do with her?"

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