My Scumbag System

Chapter 475: Showtime for the Stray Dog

My Scumbag System

Chapter 475: Showtime for the Stray Dog

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Chapter 475: Showtime for the Stray Dog

Surprisingly, I did sleep.

Dreamless.

Heavy.

The kind of deep, unconscious rest that only comes from complete physical exhaustion. When I woke to Natalia shaking my shoulder, it felt like I’d blinked and lost hours.

"It’s time."

I sat up, my body protesting the movement but not screaming at me anymore. My muscles felt better than they had in days, the worst of the damage from training faded to a manageable ache. Whatever Maki had done with her lightning had worked.

"What time is it?"

"Five. You’ve got an hour to get ready." She held up clothes she must have retrieved from my dresser while I was sleeping. "I brought your combat suit."

"How domestic of you."

"Shut up and get dressed."

I dressed while she watched from the desk chair, her legs crossed and her expression unreadable. Black tactical pants, reinforced at the knees with Kevlar patches. Gray compression shirt that fit like a second skin. The suit’s jacket—the same one I’d worn during the Gate run, cleaned and repaired. My boots, the steel toes still scuffed from where I’d kicked that Hydra head.

Natalia watched the entire process, her eyes tracking my movements.

"You look good."

"I look like I’m about to die."

"Same thing." She stood and stepped close, invading my personal space the way she always did when she wanted my full attention. "Listen to me. Reyna’s fast. But you’re faster when you want to be. She’s trained. But you’ve survived things that should’ve killed you. She has S-Rank potential. But you have something she doesn’t."

"What’s that?"

"Me." Her hand found my face, cupping my jaw with surprising gentleness. "You have me. And Skylar. And Emi. And Cel. And even that chaos demon Akari." The Cryo-Lich Ring pulsed with cold light on her finger. "You have all of us. She only has herself."

"That’s not nothing."

"It’s not enough." She kissed me. Soft this time, lingering. When she pulled back, her expression had shifted to something fiercer. "Now let’s go. Your funeral awaits."

"You mean my victory."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

We headed downstairs together, our footsteps echoing in the stairwell. The entire house was waiting in the common room—all seventeen members of the Onyx Hounds, plus Carmen leaning against the doorframe with a beer already in hand despite the early hour.

All watching me.

Emi rushed over immediately, pressing a protein bar into my hand. "For energy!"

Skylar appeared at my other side, materializing from the crowd with her usual silent grace. "Don’t die."

"I’ll try."

"Try harder." She flicked my forehead, her red nails leaving a small sting.

Celeste walked up next, her Winter Queen aura making the temperature drop a few degrees around us. Noah shadowed her as always, amber eyes wary.

"For luck," Celeste said.

She kissed my cheek.

Quick.

Proper.

But her periwinkle eyes held mine for a moment longer than strictly necessary, and the expression in them said far more than her lips did.

Akari sauntered over next, her hips swaying with deliberate exaggeration. "Give her hell, Daddy."

Natalia’s eye twitched violently. The temperature around her dropped another five degrees, frost forming on the nearest window.

Soomin bounced up on her toes, her pink hair bobbing with the motion. "The Fox says to bite her if you get the chance!"

"Noted."

Maki jumped onto my shoulder in cat form, wrapping her twin tails around my neck like a scarf. Her purr rumbled against my ear.

Braxton appeared with Carmen at his elbow, both of them looking like they’d just rolled out of bed. Probably had. "Transport leaves in five. Don’t be late."

The walk to the ferry felt like a death march.

Everyone followed—the entire guild moving as one unit through the Academy grounds. The evening air was cool against my face, carrying the salt smell of the ocean. Supporting me, some of them. Or coming to watch me die.

Probably both.

The Crucible Arena sat on top of the volcanic crater that gave the island its name, a massive open-air amphitheater carved directly into the volcanic rock. Stone seats rose in tiers, ancient and weathered, designed to hold thousands. And they were filling fast—students in their guild colors, instructors in their formal attire, administrators from the VHC in their crisp suits. Even some pro scouts, their expensive cameras already out and recording.

This wasn’t just a duel.

It was a spectacle.

A public execution or a crowning, depending on how the next hour went.

And I was the main event.

Showtime, Nel whispered, and I could hear the excitement in her mental voice.

"Yeah."

I walked toward the arena floor, my boots crunching against volcanic gravel. The crowd noise built with every step—thousands of conversations creating a wall of sound that pressed against my eardrums. Alone now. The rules said no backup. No support. No coaching from the sidelines.

Just two fighters.

One arena.

And a crowd that wanted blood.

Reyna stood on the opposite side, and even from here I could see the confidence radiating from her. Her crimson hair caught the fading sunlight, practically glowing against the darkening sky. Her combat suit was red and black, custom-fitted to her curves, probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined. The Olympus Rising logo was embroidered in gold thread across her chest.

She smiled when she saw me.

Not friendly.

Predatory.

The smile of a hunter who’d cornered her prey and was savoring the moment before the kill.

"You came."

"Wouldn’t miss it."

"Good." She rolled her shoulders, the motion fluid and practiced. "I’ve been looking forward to this."

"Same."

Lies.

I was terrified.

Every instinct I had was screaming at me to run, to get out of this arena before something very bad happened to me. But I’d die before admitting it—especially not to her.

The referee walked to the center of the arena, her boots leaving small prints in the volcanic sand. An older woman with scars crossing her face and cold gray eyes that had clearly seen their share of violence. "Standard duel rules. No lethal force. No Aspect attacks to the head. Fight ends when one fighter yields or becomes unconscious." She looked at both of us in turn, making sure we understood. "Understood?"

"Yes," Reyna said, her voice carrying easily across the space.

"Crystal."

The referee stepped back to the edge of the arena, giving us space. "Fighters ready."

I rolled my neck, feeling vertebrae pop. Checked my bat, felt the familiar weight in my hand. The metal was warm from where it had been pressed against my back during the walk here. Reyna summoned her marionettes with a casual gesture, electricity crackling to life around her.

Two of them.

Eight feet tall.

Made of pure crackling electricity that arced and sparked, their forms vaguely humanoid but clearly inhuman in their proportions.

They flanked her like palace guards, perfectly synchronized.

The crowd went silent.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

"Begin!"

Reyna moved first.

Her marionettes launched at me like missiles, crossing the distance between us in the space of a heartbeat. I activated Lightning Rod. The electromagnetic field exploded outward from my body in a sphere of invisible force, warping the trajectories of every electrical current within a two-hundred-meter radius.

Every bolt of electricity bent toward me.

Including her marionettes.

They tried to hit me, their electrified fists swinging for my head and chest. Failed. Got absorbed into my body instead, the lightning flowing into me like water down a drain. It tasted like copper and rage and frustrated ambition as it dissolved into my mana pool.

Reyna’s emerald eyes went wide.

Shocked.

Actually shocked.

"What—"

I grinned, feeling the absorbed electricity crackling through my system.

"My turn."

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