How To Survive A Calamity-Chapter 248: Outrage and Milkshakes

[What you've managed to do is exhibit something unnatural,] Meta said.

[Granted, in your case, that 'sudden' strength can be explained away as the result of Ranking Up. That might save you—once. But tell me, what does it look like when a so-called No-Talent prospect suddenly breaks through in the middle of a crisis that just so happened to involve a Demon's appearance and death?]

I frowned, my mood souring with every word of Meta's blunt reasoning.

"Are you suggesting my Breakthrough into Eta Rank looks like a Demon Contract—or possession?"

[Is it? You and I both know it's not. But the Academy doesn't. Neither does anyone else. Good luck convincing them you've got nothing to do with Nicodemus or his Demon. Whether you like it or not, you've just painted a big, black target on your back, Victor.]

"Fuck…!" I snarled, clutching my head before letting out a raw scream into the open air.

A few heads turned—confused, wary, maybe even concerned—but I brushed off the stares, ignored the whispers, and kept walking.

Unconsciously, my steps grew faster, sharper, each one laced with urgency. I had been headed for my dorm room, but now it felt like I was walking without direction at all—driven by something I couldn't stop. My body moved on its own, my thoughts clawing at me, loud and relentless.

I made a mistake.

A big one.

I'd been short-sighted, rushing in blind without thinking it through. How was it that everything I touched—every move, every choice—always circled back to tear me apart?

Seething, I stormed into the dorm building and pounded down the hallway toward my room with the fury of a war general returning from years of battle, only to find his wife in another man's arms.

—Bang!

The door slammed behind me like a gunshot.

"Why didn't you warn me?!"

The words exploded from me, raw and ragged. Eyes wide, chest heaving, I roared at the empty air like a man losing his mind.

"Fuck!! You knew— you fucking knew this would happen! You knew, and you didn't tell me! And now—now you act like you're doing me some goddamn favor, stitching the pieces together after the damage is already done!"

A heartbeat passed before Meta's voice cut through the suffocating weight of my frustration, slicing it apart with clinical indifference. It didn't care. It never did. A chilling reminder that I was trapped with nothing more than an inhumane, heartless code of ones and zeroes.

[Now you're blaming me for everything?] 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The voice was synthetic and frigid, each syllable dropping like ice, slow and deliberate—designed to remind me exactly where I stood.

[I am your Guide. A voice in your head. You are the host. I exist only to support and ensure your survival. The consequences of your choices belong entirely to you—and you alone.]

My hands clenched into fists. My jaw locked so tight it hurt.

"Cut the crap, oh wise 'great sage'!" I spat, my voice raw, shaking with fury. "You say that after twisting my life like gears in a machine, pushing me step by step toward whatever outcome you and your creator want. Don't act innocent—you've been pulling the strings all along!"

Heat boiled inside me, thick and molten, searing through my chest. It was a rage I hadn't fully realized I'd been carrying, erupting at last like a volcano breaking open.

All I saw was red—red and the cold inevitability of chains wrapping around me, dragging me down, shackling me like a puppet dangling on invisible strings.

Everything.

"I'm sick of it. All of it!" My voice cracked as it rose, words trembling with fury. "I'm sick of being nothing but a means to some end—yours, your creator's, whoever the hell thought dragging me here was a good idea. Even the System itself!"

My chest heaved. My breath came ragged. My throat burned.

"I'm done being manipulated, done dancing to a script dressed up as choice! None of this was mine, not one goddamn step! I didn't even ask for this—didn't ask to be reborn, didn't ask for any of it. So why me?!"

The dam finally shattered.

"WHY. FUCKING. ME?!"

The words ripped out of me like a roar, echoing into the void—raw, desperate, uncontainable.

"Huff... huff..." I was heaving, rasping for air, my chest and back rising with each heavy breath.

I leaned forward against the desk for support. Veins pulsed along my neck. My jaw ached from clenching, teeth pressed tight. Strands of brown hair fell in a messy curtain over my face, and flecks of saliva clung to my lips.

—Crack!

The desk edge splintered beneath my grip, the mundane wood groaning under the strain of my hand.

Slowly, I shifted my weight back, straightening just enough to stand. My shoulders still hung low, chin tucked, posture rigid but unsteady.

From the glass set against the desk, my reflection stared back.

Hair tangled and wild. Skin pale, streaked with faint flushes of red. Golden eyes dulled, unfocused—empty.

My breath, ragged seconds ago, began to steady. The harsh panting eased, and the tremor in my clenched fist finally stilled.

My jaw unclenched, and the boiling heat at the base of my gut no longer burned as fiercely.

The anger hadn't faded, nor had my frustration—none of it had lessened even after my meltdown.

Instead, it had all been funneled inward, restrained beneath a still, cold mask. A chilling sensation, where it didn't even feel like my thoughts or emotions were my own.

Like I was staring through a foggy glass mirror. Everything was distant, cold, detached.

It was familiar…

• [Ding! Skill: Immersion is being used.]

In the end, this was the only way I could hold myself back.

Then…

Meta's voice cut through the cold clarity.

[Are you done?]

Cold. Simple. Deadpan. Detached. Purely synthetic.

More and more, Meta sounded distant—further removed from anything human. She wasn't human, of course, and I knew that.

Yet hearing a voice—or the system speak—subconsciously made me tie it to something alive. Maybe sentient, if not human.

But Meta wasn't human, not in the slightest.

The voice in my head…

—was nothing short of a devil whispering over my shoulder.

Meta had been the one to activate Immersion and restrain my emotions.

Just then—

Thud. Thud.

A knock sounded from the other side of my door.

Like a snap back to reality, Immersion deactivated on its own, having already served its purpose of keeping me under control. I still felt a little cold, dulled, but I quietly turned and headed for the door.

My thoughts were scrambled, yet the Skill had done its work. Even after deactivation, I retained enough composure to register my surroundings.

I wondered who it could be. Instinctively, I spread my awareness first.

Maybe it was the dorm master—after all, I had been screaming like someone possessed only moments ago.

But there were too many shifting factors around me lately, so I stayed wary.

"Who is it?"

The moment the words left my lips, I realized it wasn't the dorm master—my perception failed to register any presence at the last second. In fact, it felt as if no one was standing on the other side of the door at all.

Yet my hand was already on the handle, halfway through pulling it open, when a familiar voice slipped in like fresh morning dew.

"Hey, Vic~"

Outside my door stood a young woman with long golden locks, strands like threads of sunlight cascading down her back. She was stunning—breathtaking, really.

No, truly.

Aurhea Aurel was the last person I expected to find at my room, and for a moment, the air seemed to leave my lungs.

"Council pres—"

Her smile bloomed brighter, cutting me off mid-word.

"Big sis."

"…"

***

"Congratulations on your new rank, Vic. Well…two of them. Sorry I'm late for the first one."

We were tucked into a booth at a fast-food café, Aurhea across from me. A waiter swung by, snuck about three too many glances at her, scribbled down our orders, and came back with my strawberry milkshake.

I gave him a deadpan look for his questionable work ethics, then turned to Aurhea.

"Wow, you already heard. News travels fast."

Her eyes darted to my milkshake—bright, pink, foamy—and then down to her own plain black coffee. Something like buyer's remorse flashed across her face.

"I did not peg you as the strawberry milkshake type," she muttered.

"I didn't either," I said with a shrug, then took a dramatic sip through the straw.

The way she stared at my milkshake like it had personally betrayed her—and then back at her sad cup of coffee—was hilarious. Honestly, watching her regret her life choices while my drink sparkled in the sunlight became the best part of the day.

I leaned forward with a grin.

"Hey, you know what? You should try it."

Aurhea's eyes lit up instantly, brighter than I'd ever seen.

"R-really?"

"Yeah, of course—" I glanced at the empty glass, slurping up the last pink foam. "Oh. Whoops. Guess I already finished it. Bummer."

Aurhea slumped backwards against her side of the booth with deadpan disappointment as she let out a despairing sigh and shot me a narrow glare full of mock scorn like a kicked puppy.

"You're actually pretty evil, Vic."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I put on my best look of innocence and casually flagged the waiter with a flick of my hand, like it was a signal.

Then I smiled sweetly.

"Evil would be ordering the last strawberry milkshake this café has to offer."

And right on cue, the waiter set it down in front of me.