My Scumbag System

Chapter 93: The Problem With a Harem is Managing the Harem


I stood on the maglev platform, watching Emi's train disappear into the distance. Her face fading behind tinted glass, palm pressed against the window. The last rays of sunset painted the tracks in shades of orange and gold, and for a moment, I felt... lighter.

What the hell was that?

I couldn't even deny it to myself. I'd enjoyed today. Actually enjoyed it. Not as Satori playing a role, not as Kaelen executing a plan, but as... whoever I was becoming in this strange new world.

My phone buzzed with Emi's message. I read it and felt a genuine smile form on my face as I typed my response.

You're worth waiting for too. Sleep well, Emi.

And she was worth waiting for, in the most practical sense. Her healing Aspect would be invaluable to my plans. A logical acquisition.

So why did logical feel like a fucking cop-out right now?

I pocketed my phone and turned toward the train that would take me home. As I settled into my seat, the city spread out beneath me like a circuit board sprinkled with stars, I couldn't stop replaying moments from the day. Her laughter when I put on that ridiculous straw hat. The way her eyes lit up when I actually remembered details about her family's restaurant.

A memory flashed, unbidden and sharp as broken glass. Takashi Ibuki, a Yamaguchi lieutenant. Cold-blooded killer who'd executed rivals without blinking. Until he met a civilian girl who worked at a bookstore. Within months, he was talking about getting out, going straight. The old men mocked him behind his back, called him neutered.

Two weeks later, a rival family grabbed the girl. Takashi walked straight into the trap to save her. They put three bullets in his head while she watched. Then they killed her too.

That's what attachment gets you in this game. A closed casket.

DING!

The System's notification appeared in my vision, a cool blue screen materializing before me.

[+15 Schema Points for 'Leading on the Cinnamon Roll']

I blinked at the words, and just like that, reality snapped back into focus. My genuine enjoyment was irrelevant. The result was what mattered, and the result was perfect. I'd established a connection, created dependence, and done it all without making concrete promises. Textbook, indeed.

I leaned back in my seat, the ghost of my smile transforming into something harder, more familiar. A predator's smile.

Emi Aoyama would be mine. I would make her so completely addicted to the validation and affection I provided that when the time came to reveal the truth—that she would need to share me—it wouldn't be a dealbreaker. It would be a price she was willing to pay to stay in my orbit.

The train glided to a stop at my station. I checked my phone once more: 9:43 PM. No messages from Natalia or my "parents." Perfect. If luck was on my side, maybe I'd have some quiet time to myself before dealing with Natalia's inevitable jealousy over the day's events.

Luck, as it turned out, had left the building.

The moment I stepped into the condo, everything felt wrong. The air was different—heavier, charged with something I couldn't name but recognized all the same. The lights were dim, almost all off except for the faint glow from the kitchen. No sounds of movement, no TV, no casual greeting.

Just silence. Dead silence.

Every survival instinct I'd developed on Tokyo's streets screamed one word: Ambush.

I slipped off my shoes and padded into the living room. The panoramic windows offered a stunning nighttime view of New Vein City, the lights of skyscrapers and hovering vehicles creating a sea of stars below us. Against this backdrop sat a silhouette on our couch.

Natalia.

She was curled up in the corner of the sofa, illuminated only by the city lights and the cold blue glow of her phone screen. She'd changed since this morning. The baggy sweats and tank top were gone, replaced by a black silk camisole and matching shorts that clung to every curve of her body. Her hair was down, slightly tousled, like she'd been running her fingers through it.

She looked ready for bed. Or war. I couldn't tell which.

I flicked on a lamp.

CLICK.

Natalia's head snapped up, eyes locking onto mine. Those blue irises had turned to chips of glacial ice, cold and unforgiving.

Then it happened. Her nostrils flared slightly. Once. Twice. She took a slow, deliberate sniff of the air, her eyes never leaving mine.

And I knew.

The sweet, floral scent of Emi's perfume clung to my jacket. A scent so different from Natalia's preferred citrus notes that it might as well have been a neon sign flashing "ANOTHER WOMAN WAS HERE."

"Did you have fun..." Natalia's voice was silk-wrapped venom, "on your date?"

I dropped my keys into the ceramic bowl on the entry table with a loud CLATTER that seemed to shatter the brittle quiet.

"You should be more careful when you're tailing someone, Princess." My voice was dangerously soft. "Your silhouette is... distinctive. Especially when you're trying to hide behind a holographic soda ad."

The mask of cold fury on Natalia's face shattered. Her eyes widened, lips parting in shock. A flush spread from her cheeks down to her neck.

"I wasn't—I didn't— I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really?" I circled the couch like a shark, trailing my fingers along the back of it. "So that wasn't you in the hoodie and baseball cap outside Cloud 9? Or skulking near the fountain when we passed Elysian Threads?" I paused, directly behind her now. "Or watching through the window when I helped Emi pick out clothing?"

Natalia's breath hitched, her shoulders tensing. She was caught, and she knew it.

"Your surveillance was sloppy," I continued, moving around to face her again. "And your lack of faith is... disappointing. It requires correction. A lesson in self-control."

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a small, clear bottle. Click. I popped the top. Inside were five small, shimmering pink pills. I shook one into my palm.

[APHRODITE'S VIRILITY PILL]

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