My Scumbag System

Chapter 622: Watch and Learn, Stray Dog

Sleep came in fragments. My brain refused to shut down completely, cycling through equations and diagrams and the face of a man I’d never meet. The father who’d turned me into a science experiment before I’d even taken my first breath.

Reyna slept like the dead beside me. Her body draped across mine with the boneless relaxation of someone who’d been thoroughly satisfied. Her crimson hair spread across the pillow like spilled wine.

The pendant pulsed against my chest. Steady now. Natalia had settled into something resembling acceptance, though I knew better than to trust that calm. Three hundred miles away, she was probably drafting detailed notes about exactly how she planned to punish me when I returned.

I loved her for it.

Maki’s voice drifted through my consciousness. "Master is being watched."

My eyes snapped open.

"Where?"

"Building across the street. Third floor. Human male. Some kind of long-range observation equipment."

The Valerius surveillance team. Still tracking my movements even after midnight. Julian’s family really did not know when to quit.

"Threat level?"

"Minimal. He cannot see through walls, and I have disabled his listening devices twice already tonight. He appears frustrated."

Good. Let him be frustrated. Let Julian’s entire family choke on their frustration while I built something they could never understand.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Morning arrived with the sound of Reyna’s phone screaming at us.

Not a normal alarm. An emergency tone that cut through the room like a knife.

Reyna was out of bed and grabbing her phone before I’d even processed what was happening. Her naked body caught the early light as she read whatever message had triggered the alert.

"Mierda."

"What?"

"Gate emergence." She was already moving toward her closet. "Residential district. B-Rank preliminary assessment. Olympus Rising just took the contract."

I sat up. "When?"

"Thirty minutes ago. Still stabilizing." She pulled on training clothes with the efficiency of someone who’d done this a thousand times. "Veronica wants me on standby. And she wants you there too."

"Me?"

Reyna looked over her shoulder. Her expression had shifted from sleepy satisfaction to sharp focus. The warrior emerging from beneath the woman.

"You’re here to learn how a real guild operates, aren’t you? Well, this is how we operate. Gates don’t wait for convenient schedules."

Nel’s voice slid through my mind. "A B-Rank Gate in a residential district is significant. The potential for civilian casualties adds complexity to any operation. This would be an excellent opportunity to observe Hunter logistics at scale."

No shit.

I got out of bed and started looking for my clothes. "Where exactly?"

"Meridian Heights. Upper-middle-class neighborhood about twenty minutes from here." Reyna finished dressing and grabbed something from her nightstand. A small communicator that she clipped to her ear. "Population density is moderate. VHC has already started evacuations."

"How long until the Gate stabilizes?"

"Another thirty minutes, maybe forty. We’ll be there before it opens."

I found my pants and pulled them on. The pendant hung cool against my chest. Natalia was awake now, I could feel her attention sharpening through our bond. She’d heard everything through our connection.

"I don’t have combat gear here."

"Veronica anticipated that." Reyna tossed me something. A keycard. "Storage locker on sublevel two. Helena stocked it with equipment in your size yesterday. Standard C-Rank loadout plus some custom modifications."

Of course Veronica had anticipated it. The woman probably had contingency plans for her contingency plans.

"I’m not technically licensed for B-Rank operations."

"You’re not technically licensed for anything you’ve done in the past six months." Reyna’s smile was sharp. "Consider this a learning experience. You’ll be with me and the observation team. No front-line engagement unless things go very wrong."

"And if things go very wrong?"

"Then you do what you do best." She walked over and kissed me. Quick and fierce. "You survive."

Twenty minutes later, I stood in Olympus Rising’s command center watching organized chaos unfold across a dozen holographic displays.

The room was massive. Multiple tiers of workstations arranged in concentric semicircles, all facing a central projection showing real-time satellite imagery of the Gate location. Analysts typed furiously at their stations while coordinators shouted updates across the room.

Veronica stood at the center of it all. A conductor directing an orchestra of violence.

"Strike team Alpha is three minutes out. Perimeter control reports evacuation at seventy-eight percent. VHC liaison confirms no other guilds have contested our claim." She turned and spotted us. "Satori. Good. You’re here."

"Couldn’t miss the show."

"This isn’t a show." Veronica’s expression was serious. No trace of the playful guild master from our previous conversations. "This is a B-Rank Gate in a neighborhood full of families. If we fail, three thousand civilians die."

The weight of that statement settled over the room.

"I understand."

"Do you?" Veronica studied me. "You’ve cleared Gates before. Training exercises and that disaster at the Academy. But you’ve never seen a real operation at scale. The logistics. The pressure. The cost of every second we waste."

She gestured toward the central display.

"Watch. Learn. And stay out of the way unless I call for you."

Fair enough.

I found a spot near the back of the command center where I could observe without obstructing anyone. Reyna stayed close, her attention split between me and the tactical displays.

"Strike team Alpha arriving on site," someone announced.

The main display shifted to show a residential street lined with modest homes. Trees and gardens and the kind of quiet neighborhood where people raised kids and complained about property taxes. Completely normal.

Except for the tear in reality hovering above the intersection.

The Gate looked like someone had taken a knife to the fabric of existence and just left the wound open. A vertical pool of shifting darkness maybe thirty feet across. Oily colors rippled across its surface in patterns that hurt to look at directly.

"Preliminary assessment confirmed B-Rank," another analyst called out. "Spectral analysis suggests standard monster composition. No anomalous readings."

"Timer?"

"Forty-three minutes until stabilization. Decay window estimated at standard parameters."