Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy-Chapter 40 | Post-Nut Clarity

I waited five minutes after Cheon left.

Counted the seconds in my head while leaning against the wall of this dusty storage room like some kind of creep who gets off on making class representatives come during school hours.

Which, to be fair, I kind of just did.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was I needed to think.

Needed to process what the fuck just happened.

Cheon saw through me.

Not completely. Not the whole picture. But enough to be dangerous.

She knew my Essentia had changed. Knew I’d somehow picked up Mera’s spatial signature. Knew something was fundamentally different about me between yesterday and today.

The question I couldn’t answer was how.

In the novel, was Cheon’s ability explained like that? Could she actually read Essentia signatures like a fucking barcode scanner?

I honestly couldn’t remember.

I’d skimmed most of the school arc. Fast-forwarded through the tournament setup to get to the parts where Nolan punched things and Aurora blushed prettily in the background.

The supporting cast? The side characters who filled out the classroom scenes?

I’d barely registered them.

And now one of those side characters was threatening to unravel everything because I hadn’t paid attention to what her power actually did.

There was so much I didn’t know.

So much the novel hadn’t explained or I’d glossed over because it seemed boring at the time.

Using my meta knowledge was basically useless.

Worse than useless.

It gave me confidence I didn’t deserve and left gaps big enough to drive a truck through.

I pushed off the wall.

Started pacing in the small space between broken desks and stacked textbooks that smelled like mildew and old paper.

My hands were still tingling from touching her.

From feeling her Essentia drain into me through skin contact and a kiss that had turned into something way more intense than I’d planned.

Virgin Killer had done most of the work.

The passive field made her defenses crumble before I even touched her.

Made her want it.

Made her body respond in ways she couldn’t control.

But that ability only worked because she was inexperienced.

What happened when I ran into someone who wasn’t? 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

What happened when the passive field failed and I had to explain why my eyes glowed purple when I used abilities I wasn’t supposed to have?

I needed a cover story.

An Essentia I could claim publicly.

Something that explained the weird shit without revealing the truth.

The problem was figuring out what that Essentia should be.

Option one: I could say I awakened recently. Claim the transfer triggered something dormant. Lie through my teeth about what the ability actually does.

But awakened abilities got tested.

Documented.

Registered with the NEA.

They’d want specifics. Demonstrations. A Vitae Scan to confirm the signature matched what I claimed.

And if they found discrepancies?

If the scan showed something that didn’t line up with my story?

I’d be flagged as a potential threat.

Investigated.

Possibly detained.

The NEA didn’t fuck around with unregistered Essentia.

Option two: I could tell a version of the truth. Say I have a copy ability. That I can temporarily replicate other people’s powers through contact.

It would explain why my signature kept changing.

Why I could use Mera’s gates and whatever the hell Gravity Jail was supposed to be.

It would even explain the drain if I framed it right.

But a copy ability?

That was SS-rank territory at minimum.

The kind of power that made governments nervous.

They’d see me as a threat that needed to be controlled.

And I didn’t have the protagonist aura to smooth that over yet.

Nolan could claim something broken and people would cheer.

They’d call him the next generation’s hope or some bullshit like that.

I claimed the same thing?

They’d grill me.

Question my intentions.

Demand proof I wasn’t planning to steal their abilities and use them for evil.

Because I was Rome D’Angelo.

The scumbag playboy rival.

The villain in training.

My family name opened doors but it also came with baggage.

Expectations.

Assumptions about who I was and what I wanted.

I could ask my father for help.

Angelo Corporation had lawyers. PR teams. Fixers who specialized in making problems disappear.

But that came with strings.

Vito would want something in return.

Control.

Oversight.

Proof I was serious about inheriting the company and not just coasting on the family name.

And even with corporate backing, there were limits to what money could fix.

An unregistered copy ability?

That was national security territory.

No amount of lawyers would make the NEA back off if they decided I was a threat.

I stopped pacing.

Pressed my palms against my eyes until colors bloomed in the darkness.

This was so fucking annoying.

Every option had downsides.

Every choice led to complications I wasn’t equipped to handle.

The smart play was probably keeping my mouth shut.

Staying registered as a Null.

Using my abilities quietly and hoping nobody noticed the discrepancies.

But Cheon had already noticed.

And if she could read Essentia signatures that clearly, how many other people could do the same?

How long before someone with connections to the disciplinary committee or the NEA saw what she saw?

I needed a plan.

Something better than winging it and hoping my luck held.

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out.

Text from Mera.

where are you?

storage room west wing. long story

did you get lost again

something like that

youre trouble

you love it

...maybe

I smiled despite the situation.

Mera was uncomplicated in the best way.

She knew what I was. What my ability did. She’d felt it firsthand and decided she didn’t care.

That was rare.

Valuable.

I needed to keep her close.

meet me after school

where

my place

bold

you complaining?

no

I pocketed the phone.

Checked my reflection in a cracked mirror leaning against the wall.

My hair was a mess.

White strands sticking up at angles that suggested recent activity.

My uniform was wrinkled.

Collar askew.

I looked exactly like someone who’d just fingered the class representative in a storage room.

Great.

I fixed the collar.

Ran fingers through my hair until it looked presentable.

Checked my eyes.

The weird glow was gone.

Back to normal grey and green heterochromia.

Good.

I couldn’t have that activating randomly.

Gravity Jail needed practice.

Control.

I needed to understand the limits before I used it again.

Same with Fuego.

And Liminal Step.

Three abilities I barely understood stacked on top of the core drain that was doing most of the heavy lifting.

I was a walking disaster waiting to happen.

The door creaked when I opened it.

Hallway was empty.

Everyone was in class like they were supposed to be.

I walked toward Building C.

Took my time.

There was no point rushing now.

What Essentia could I claim that wouldn’t get me killed?

Physical enhancement was boring but safe.

Plenty of people had some variation of enhanced strength or speed.

It would explain the punch that cracked the training dummy.

But it wouldn’t explain Gravity Jail or Fuego.

I could claim multiple abilities.

Say I’m a dual-type.

Rare but not unheard of.

Physical enhancement plus something ocular.

But dual-types got scrutinized harder than single-type users.

The Vitae Scan would show both signatures clearly.

And mine would show three.

Maybe four if I kept draining people.

No.

Dual-type wouldn’t work.

I needed something that explained the variability.

The changing signatures.

The fact that my Essentia looked different depending on who I’d touched recently.

A copy ability was the only thing that made sense.

But how did I frame it so people didn’t panic?

I needed to talk to someone.

Someone who understood how the system worked.

Someone who could give me actual advice instead of vague platitudes.

Mera was smart but she didn’t know the political side fully.

Noel might.

Her family had connections.

Stark Industries dealt with hero support contracts.

They’d know the regulations.

But asking Noel meant trusting her.

And I wasn’t sure I could do that yet.

She’d been hostile from the start.

The only reason she’d helped with the costume design was because she wanted to prove she was better than me.

Not exactly the foundation for trust.

Cheon was out.

Obviously.

She’d just threatened to report me.

The fact that I’d made her come against a wall didn’t mean she was on my side.

It meant she was confused.

Conflicted.

And conflicted people made bad allies.