My Scumbag System-Chapter 398: The Muscles Speak of My Triumph!

[BOND RANK UPDATED]

[CELESTE VANCE: RANK 1 → RANK 4]

[STATUS: CONFIDANTE]

[IMBUEMENT SLOT UNLOCKED]

I stumbled, catching myself against the tunnel wall. The burns on my arms chose that exact moment to remind me they existed by sending fresh waves of agony racing up to my shoulders.

"Satori?" Cel grabbed my elbow, steadying me. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. Just processing." I forced myself upright. "How much farther to the surface?"

She checked the path ahead. "Maybe another mile. The tunnel’s sloping up now."

One mile. I could manage one mile.

We walked in silence, except for Nel’s continued running commentary in my head about viewer statistics and how my "protective bad boy with secret heart of gold" routine was absolutely killing with the female demographic.

I was about to tell her to shut up when light appeared ahead. Actual daylight. Not the artificial silver glow of the Garden, but real sunshine filtering through trees.

The tunnel mouth opened onto a small clearing surrounded by silver-barked trees. The trees we’d seen when we first fell through the trap.

And standing in that clearing, looking like they’d been through their own personal hell, were the rest of Team Gamma.

Juan saw us first. His eyes went wide. "Holy shit."

Monica gasped, dropping the copper-leaved plant she’d been holding. "You’re alive!"

Noah moved faster than I’d ever seen her move, crossing the clearing in three steps and grabbing Cel by the shoulders. "Are you hurt? Where’s the damage? Who do I need to kill?"

"I’m fine, Noah." Cel’s voice carried that familiar royal composure despite looking like she’d been dragged behind a truck. "Satori protected me."

Noah’s eyes cut to me. Something dark flickered in her expression.

Then she hugged Cel so hard I heard ribs creak.

Raphael appeared next, his amber eyes taking in my charred arms and bloody leg. "You look like microwaved garbage."

"Love you too, sunshine."

Jaime bounded over, his enthusiasm completely undimmed despite the obvious signs of combat damage across his gear. "Brother! You have returned from the depths victorious! The muscles speak of your triumph! They say your spirit burns bright like the protein fires of Mount Olympus!"

I had no idea how to respond to that.

Juan saved me by stepping between us. "How did you get out? The Glass Hall sealed itself after you fell. We tried everything to break through." He gestured at the surrounding vegetation. "Monica convinced the trees to dig, but the roots couldn’t penetrate whatever barrier the Arborist threw up."

"We found another way." I pulled the silver knife from my belt, the blade still stained with golden sap. "Courtesy of the First Tree."

Monica’s eyes went wide. "That’s heartwood. Real heartwood from the anchor tree." She reached out to touch it, then hesitated. "May I?"

I handed it over.

The moment Monica’s fingers closed around the hilt, her entire demeanor changed. Her amber eyes unfocused, and when she spoke, her voice carried an echo that didn’t belong to her.

"The Gardener sleeps. The Collection scatters. The First thanks you, Bearer of the Key."

Then she blinked, and it was just Monica again. She looked down at the knife with wonder. "They remember you. All of them. Every plant that was trapped. They’ll answer if you call."

Fantastic. I’d somehow earned the loyalty of an interdimensional botanical network.

Nel’s laughter rang through my head. Oh, this is perfect. The Scumbag Sovereign now commands the forces of nature! The irony is delicious!

I ignored her and focused on the group. "How long were we gone?"

Juan checked his watch. "Six hours. Maybe seven."

Seven hours. But down in the Garden, it had felt like days. Time dilation was a bitch.

"The Gate’s collapsing," Noah said, her voice tight. "We need to move. Now."

She was right. The silver trees around us were fading, their leaves turning translucent. The ground beneath our feet trembled.

Raphael grabbed my shoulder, keeping me upright when I swayed. "Can you run?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

We ran.

Well. They ran. I hobbled as fast as my ruined body could manage, with Cel on one side and Raphael on the other, basically carrying me between them.

The clearing dissolved into mist behind us. The tunnel we’d emerged from sealed itself with a sound like breaking glass. The entire dimension was folding in on itself, returning to whatever cosmic void Black Gates came from.

Ahead, I caught a glimpse of the original Gate portal. The shimmering vertical tear in reality that we’d entered through what felt like a lifetime ago.

Monica sprinted ahead with Copernicus clutched to her chest. Juan followed, his analytical mind probably cataloguing every detail for his conspiracy blog. Jaime ran with his characteristic enthusiasm, shouting something about the power of determination. Noah stayed close to Cel, ready to intervene if her charge stumbled.

The portal grew closer. Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten.

The ground cracked beneath my feet.

I pitched forward, my injured leg finally giving out. Raphael cursed and tightened his grip, basically throwing me toward the Gate like I weighed nothing.

I hit the portal face-first and felt reality twist.

The transition was gentler this time. Less like having my atoms ripped apart and more like being dunked in very cold water.

Then I was through.

Standing in regular dirt. Breathing regular air. Under a regular sky that was blue instead of impossible.

The VHC security team surrounded the Gate site, their weapons raised and their expressions suggesting they’d been about three seconds from declaring us lost.

Watcher Graves stood at the perimeter, her scarred face unreadable as she took in our condition. "Report."

"C-Rank Gate turned Black," I said, my voice coming out hoarse. "Arborist’s dead. Specimens freed. We survived."

Her eyes narrowed. "All of you?"

I looked back at the portal.

Monica stumbled through, gasping and clutching Copernicus. Juan appeared next, looking like he’d aged five years in seven hours. Jaime practically bounced through, immediately flexing despite the obvious exhaustion. Noah emerged with her hand on Cel’s elbow, supporting the princess who looked ready to collapse.

Raphael was last. He glanced back at the Gate, which had already started shrinking, the blue light fading to nothing.

"Yeah," I said. "All of us."