Chapter 7: Should Have Put On The Fucking Condom!

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Should Have Put On The Fucking Condom!

Michael’s body went completely still.

For a full second, he simply stared at Rachel, the words she had just spoken refusing to settle into anything coherent. Then the future crashed into him in a single, brutal flash.

He saw himself walking away from every rift, every ranking board, every chance at real power. He saw a cramped apartment, fluorescent lights, and a nine-to-five job that slowly killed whatever ambition he still carried. He saw a small child looking up at him with open disappointment, calling him uncool under their breath. He saw Ivy standing in the rain, eyes cold, telling him she could not build a life with a single father who had thrown away everything.

The images hit so hard that his shoulders gave a tiny, involuntary tremble.

His hands shot out and gripped Rachel’s shoulders. Then he shook her once, then again, harder than he meant to.

"Are you serious?!"

Rachel let herself be shaken, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose as her voice vibrated with the motion.

"Yes."

Michael stopped.

The panic on his face was raw, almost like a child who had just shattered an expensive plate while doing the dishes.

"How?" he asked, quieter now, almost pleading. "We always used protection. I only... I only went without it once. How can you already be—"

Rachel’s mouth stretched into a wide, unrepentant grin.

"Ding dong. Guess what you’ve been hit by~"

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a white plastic test kit. Two clear pink lines stared up at him. "Pregnancy!"

"This isn’t the time to joke, Rachel!" Michael’s voice cracked. He spun away from her, both hands flying up to scrub at his temples.

The storage room suddenly felt too small. Thoughts piled on top of each other in a messy scramble—how the hell was he supposed to chase supremacy in a new world while raising a child? How could he have been so careless? Why hadn’t he just put the damn rubber on that day?

He glanced back.

Rachel was watching him with bright, sparkling eyes, clearly enjoying every second of his meltdown.

’Shit.’

Almost a year had passed since they first met.

Rachel had arrived as a newly transferred instructor from another branch, quiet and composed on the surface, carrying the quiet wreckage of a failing marriage.

Michael had only meant to be a steady presence, someone she could talk to without judgment.

However, somewhere between the late-night conversations and shared exhaustion, they had crossed a line, then another, until the arrangement settled into something that had no clean name. Friends with benefits had felt accurate for a while. Whatever they were now sat somewhere messier and more honest.

Back then, he had expected the classic cold older-teacher type that filled so many novels and manhwa.

However, reality had laughed at him.

Girls weren’t actually like that. In reality, once a girl actually liked someone, the cool exterior peeled away and left behind something else.

And in his case...

He glanced back at her as she tilted her head from one side to the other, blinking.

’A weirdo.’

’Well, not a bad weirdo, but still a weirdo. Fuck, this is beyond the point!’

Rachel stepped closer, her voice dropping into something low and openly suggestive. "Baby... I’m horny."

Michael fixed her with a flat, exhausted look and sighed. He slid his large hands around her waist, letting his palms settle over the soft, warm curve of her ass. Her modest, perfectly hand-filling cheeks molded beneath his fingers, plush and yielding, as though they had been made to fit his hands.

He squeezed once, slow and firm, feeling the soft flesh give beneath his palms.

Rachel’s breath hitched into a quiet, needy little whimper.

He kept his hand there, still cupping and holding her, as he muttered, "This is not the time to be horny. I’m trying to think about the future."

She tilted her head up at him, oversized glasses slipping a little, cat-like eyes blinking with pure mischievous cuteness, and grinned. "Two years."

He blinked. "What?"

"Have you forgotten my main skill?" she asked. "I can suppress anything weaker than me without killing it. If I’m careful, I can keep the pregnancy suppressed for about two years. Any longer than that would be dangerous, but two years should be doable."

She lifted both hands and rested them against his cheeks, her thumbs brushing the skin beneath his eyes. "So don’t panic, kay? I know two years might not sound like a lot, but I believe that by then, you’ll be strong enough to protect both of us. And since Awakened can stop their stomachs from showing, I can keep living normally until we’re ready."

Michael’s eyes stung. He hated how close the tears felt.

"You’ll really do that?"

Rachel’s expression softened into something almost shy as she gave a small giggle.

"Of course. It’s the least I can do for the man I love." She scratched one cheek, suddenly awkward. "Besides... I don’t think this is the right time for people to find out you got me pregnant."

The tight knot between Michael’s shoulders finally loosened. He lifted a hand and rested it on top of her head, his fingers sliding into her hair in a slow, grateful pat.

"Thanks. A lot."

Rachel leaned into the touch the same way a contented cat would, her eyes half-lidding for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter.

"Where are you going after this?"

"Home first. I need to see my family. After that, I’m leaving with the Dean."

Rachel’s head snapped up so fast that her glasses nearly flew off. "The Dean? You know her?"

"Kind of."

Michael shrugged out of his academy blazer and settled it over her shoulders. Then he leaned down and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead.

"Take care of yourself... and the kid too. When I have time, I’ll come see you. And..." He hesitated, then met her eyes directly. "You should visit my parents when you can."

Rachel blinked. "Does that mean...?"

"Yeah, I’m going to tell them," he said. "Keeping them in the dark feels wrong." He reached down and laced his fingers through hers as he guided her toward the door. "When I’m back, we’ll look at houses, buy some baby things—whatever you need."

A bright, genuine smile broke across her face.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not denying it. For not running. For not telling me to get rid of the child."

Michael’s mouth curved into a crooked smirk. "I’m just a great husband, aren’t I?"

Rachel scoffed. "If you were such a great husband, you wouldn’t have gotten your teacher pregnant in the first place."

He nearly choked. It took him a second to recover his voice. When he opened the door, he paused on the threshold and looked back at her, her blazer still draped over her shoulders, glasses slightly crooked, cheeks still faintly pink.

Michael couldn’t deny it, even if he wanted to. He truly had a wonderful taste in women.

"Stay warm. Eat properly. If anything feels wrong—anything at all—you contact me immediately. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing... if possible. Just... don’t push yourself too hard. I don’t want you or the kid getting sick."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed. "Yeah, yeah. Go make a name for yourself so our kid can be a shameless nepo baby."

Michael huffed a quiet laugh, stepped out, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Alone on the narrow path outside the storage building, he brought the system window up with a thought. The Emotion Points he had spent on Ivy’s mission had already climbed back to 407. A small, private smile tugged at his mouth.

Michael felt a strange sense of pride just looking at those numbers. It seemed that the connections he had built in this world, even before the system ever woke up, had been real. That knowledge settled something warm and steady in his chest.

’Ha... I might actually be the most competent transmigrator alive.’

He walked toward the main courtyard. Music and laughter still spilled across the open grass. Students danced, drank, and shouted over one another in the late-afternoon light.

Reaching the center, he scanned the crowd once for ink-black hair and silver eyes, but Ivy was already gone.

Michael turned toward the front gate, ready to leave too, when he caught sight of a familiar figure.

Felix stood near the open entrance, frozen in place, his eyes wide with pure horror as he stared at something.

A frown appeared on Michael’s face, and without waiting a beat, he increased his pace until he caught sight of what his best friend was staring at.

In front of Felix, a cute girl with light-brown hair was down on one knee, both hands clasped around his. Her voice rang out, clear and determined, across the pavement.

"Felix Ackerman, will you marry me?!"

Felix’s mouth opened and closed without sound.

"Emma—what are you doing?!"

Michael’s frown vanished as a sharp grin appeared on his face. "Damn. Looks like I got here just in time."

Felix’s head snapped toward him. The pure, soul-deep pain that crossed his best friend’s face was beautiful. Michael could bet that Felix could already see the next hundred years of merciless teasing stretching out in front of them.

Before Felix could accept his fate, a low, expensive engine purred to a stop at the gate. The rear door of the sleek black car opened, and a woman stepped out.

Ash-blonde hair, violet eyes, and a mature, voluptuous body that made several boys forget how to breathe and earned more than a few openly envious stares from the girls.

Seraphine Voss scanned the crowd once, then locked onto Michael.

"Michael," she called. "Time to go."

Every nearby head snapped immediately from the beautiful woman to the Class President. Felix’s despair vanished in an instant, replaced by the bright, desperate light of a man who had just been thrown a rope while drowning.

’Fuck!’