Divine Milking System-Chapter 39 | The Dream Team Vs. The Protagonist Squad

Chapter 39: 39 | The Dream Team Vs. The Protagonist Squad

Dominic Vale tapped the hologram, scrolling through the list of names with exaggerated concentration. The classroom felt like a lottery drawing—everyone holding their breath, waiting to see if today would make or break them.

"Before I assign your teams," Vale said, "let me explain how this works. This first-year class is fifty students per house. If we put you in squads of five, how many squads will there be total across all houses?"

His eyes scanned the room. Several hands shot up.

"Yes, you with the red hair! Stand up when you answer."

Blair Davenport rose from her seat, her custom-tailored uniform somehow looking more expensive than everyone else’s. Her short red hair caught the morning light streaming through the windows. Every movement radiated aristocratic precision.

"There are ten squads per house," she answered, voice crisp and confident. "Fifty squads total across all five houses."

Vale smiled. "Correct! And for the first semester, you’re not just competing against your fellow Obsidian classmates. You’re going against every other first-year on the leaderboard."

A hand shot up from the back row.

"Can we switch teams if we don’t like our assignments?" asked a boy with slicked-back blonde hair.

Vale’s laugh filled the room. "No, you cannot move teams for the first semester. However, if your team finishes in the top five by winter, you can trade one of your players for someone from a team not in the top five... or decide to stay put." His mismatched eyes gleamed. "Think of it as a reward for success and incentive not to murder your annoying teammates."

My stomach tightened. Team assignments meant I couldn’t just focus on my own survival anymore. Four other people would be tied to my performance.

"Now, let’s get these teams sorted!" Vale clicked the remote again, and the hologram rearranged itself into a grid of names.

I scanned for my name, finally spotting it in Squad 8:

SQUAD 8:

Monroe, Jace

Wayne, Jordan

Love, Naomi

Fox, Belle

Ayame, Misato

Holy shit. Lady luck was bending over backward for me.

I’d scored Naomi—my actual romantic partner who I’d already extracted from. Belle—who I’d been building rapport with since day one. Jordan—the laid-back genius who’d rather nap than cause drama. And Misato Ayame—Blair Davenport’s right-hand woman and personal assistant.

Speaking of Blair, I glanced over at the red-haired heiress. Her normally pale face had flushed crimson as she stared at the board. Her squad assignment glowed mockingly:

SQUAD 3:

Davenport, Blair

Pope, Dante

Mendoza, Javier

Tanaka, Hikaru

Leone, Charles

A nightmare cocktail. Javier Mendoza—the earnest protagonist whose life I was steadily hijacking. Hikaru—my secretly-female roommate who hated all men. Dante Pope—a name I vaguely recalled from the story as someone with significant insecurities. And Charles Leone—the walking, talking embodiment of male privilege.

Blair stood up so quickly her chair scraped against the floor.

"This is unacceptable." Her voice cut through the murmurs. "Misato belongs on my team. Switch her with this lottery loser." She jabbed a finger toward Javier, who sank lower in his seat, face burning.

Vale’s smile widened. "No."

Just that. One word. No explanation, no justification.

Blair’s perfect composure cracked. "Do you know who I am?"

"Blair Davenport, first-year student, currently worth exactly zero points on the evaluation board." Vale’s voice remained light, but the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. "Same as everyone else here."

"My father—"

"Isn’t in this classroom." Vale cut her off. "When you’re ranked number one, you can make demands. Until then, you follow the system like everyone else."

The silence that followed was beautiful in its absolute totality. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Blair stood frozen, her blue eyes wide with shock that someone had actually told her no.

Vale glanced at his watch. "You have fifteen minutes to find your teams, choose a name, and register it. Starting now."

The room erupted into chaos as students scrambled to find their assigned teammates.

"Well," Jordan said beside me, not bothering to stand up. "This just got interesting."

Belle was already on her phone, typing furiously. "I’m texting Misato to come over here. She’s on the other side of the room."

"Wait," Naomi looked at me with genuine concern. "Isn’t Misato Blair’s... person? Won’t that be awkward?"

I shrugged. "Probably. But awkward is better than being on Blair’s team."

"Truth," Jordan muttered.

A minute later, Misato Ayame approached our cluster of seats, her lime green hair impossible to miss. Up close, she was even more striking—athletic build, sharp features, golden-brown eyes that assessed each of us with naked suspicion. Her uniform fit her curves well and she moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how dangerous she was.

"So," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "This is my team?"

Belle waved. "Hey, Misato. Welcome to..." she glanced at us, "whatever we’re called."

"We need a name," Jordan said, still not standing.

"Something intimidating," Belle suggested. "To make up for..." she waved vaguely at me and Jordan.

"Hey!" I protested.

Misato’s eyes narrowed. "Blair is furious."

"Not our fault," I pointed out.

"I know," Misato surprised me by agreeing. "Vale’s assignments are deliberate. He’s separating us to test how we function independently."

Jordan finally sat up. "Or he’s just an asshole who enjoys chaos."

Misato’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.

"That too."

Naomi, who’d been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "What about Phoenix Squad?"

We all turned to look at her.

"You know, because we’re all kind of... starting over here? New beginnings?"

Belle made a face. "Too soft."

"Sleeping Giants," Jordan suggested.

"You just want an excuse to nap," Belle shot back. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Obsidian Shadows," Misato offered.

"Sounds like a metal band," I said.

Belle snapped her fingers. "Midnight Foxes."

"Just because your name is Fox—" Jordan started.

"It’s perfect," Misato cut in. "Foxes are cunning. We work in shadow. We strike when others sleep."

I stared at her, surprised by the sudden intensity. "You really thought that through in two seconds."

Misato shrugged. "I’m efficient."

"Midnight Foxes it is," Jordan declared, clearly wanting to end the discussion.