Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine

Scott had already seen Maya off.

He stretched his arms wide with a yawn so heavy it sounded like it belonged to an old grandpa who'd just gotten out of a rocking chair.

"Ahh…"

He rolled his shoulders as he climbed the hospital stairs.

Each step was slow, heavy, like he was ready to collapse into his bed.

But the moment he got to his room, his tiredness left faster than he could blink.

Bella and Willow were standing at the door with tight and worried faces.

Even Willow's guards looked stiff.

Normally, Scott wouldn't think much of it if it was just Willow looking worried.

That was just how she was—she cared about everyone.

But Bella was different.

You could even say she was self-centered.

Seeing her with that kind of troubled look on her face could only mean something serious was going on.

『Something is so wrong…』

Scott cocked his head as he strolled over.

Before he could ask, the door slid open, and Nadia walked out.

She had her handbag clutched to her chest like a lifeline.

Her head was so low that Scott couldn't even see her eyes, only the trembling in her shoulders.

He froze, watching her.

『Nadia…?』

As she stepped past Bella and Willow, Scott hurried forward and gently slid his arm around her.

He leaned affectionately close.

"Hey… are you okay?"

But Nadia flinched at his touch.

She pressed her lips together, shaking harder now.

Then, with the faintest push, she brushed his arm away.

Scott blinked, startled. "Nadia—?"

Her breath trembled as if she wanted to say something but the words just wouldn't come.

Her lips quivered with every attempt.

Finally, she forced out a small and broken whisper.

"Can you… please… not touch me?"

Her voice cracked like glass.

She took in another deep breath and stepped past him without meeting his eyes.

Scott's heart dropped into his belly.

He quickly looked at Bella and Willow like they might have the answers, but when they stayed quiet, it only made the tight feeling in his chest worse.

He spun around and hurriedly caught up to Nadia.

"Nadia, wait—are you okay—?"

He started, but the words died on his tongue.

Her eyes… they were glossy.

Wet with tears. Actual tears.

For the first time since he'd known her, Nadia's calm and witty face that never seemed bothered by anything was falling apart right in front of him. The sight shocked him so much that he actually took a step back.

"Uh… uhm…"

Scott stammered so much.

He was drowning in a pit of uncertainty.

"Nadia, are you…?"

But she didn't let him finish.

"I'm sorry for getting between you two…"

She sniffled as she spoke.

Her fingers clenched tighter around her handbag until you could hear her knuckles cracking.

"I'm a horrible friend… or was a friend, at least…"

She finally looked at him.

The soreness of her eyes was unbearable to see.

"You don't have to say anything, Scott. Okay?"

It was almost like she already knew what he was going to say—the same reassuring words, the gentle comfort she always let herself stupidly believe.

But this time, she didn't want to hear it.

"Can… can you make my life easier and just… step aside so I can leave?"

Her voice shivered as she tried to steady herself.

"I have appointments waiting for me back at the pharmacy, so I need to…"

She inhaled deeply to steady her cracking voice.

"… to go."

Finally, she mustered the courage to look him in the eyes.

Her lips quivered as she forced out the words.

"I'll make sure not to contact you again."

She turned and walked away quickly.

Scott stood there, lost.

His mouth hung open as if he'd forgotten how to speak.

His head tilted to the side, like a confused deer caught on an expressway.

『What the hell just happened…?』

His eyes darted around the hallway as if answers would magically appear on the walls. But when he turned back toward Bella and Willow, another person had joined them.

Dr. Goode.

The man adjusted his glasses, briefcase in hand.

He looked almost sheepish.

Scott stepped toward him immediately.

"What's going on? Did the therapy not work? Or is it a money thing? I swear I can pay more—!"

"Mr. McQueen."

Dr. Goode raised a hand to cut him off before he could spiral into another ramble.

He shook his head and let out a long sigh.

"Listen. No matter how skilled I am, the burning emotions of a woman cannot be erased in a single session. Especially when there are two women involved."

Scott's brows pinched.

"What're you saying?"

Goode adjusted his glasses again.

"I studied Emma. And I've concluded her problem with Nadia isn't because she hates the idea of sharing you with yet another woman. No. It's because that woman… is her best friend."

Scott went stiff.

The words hit him like a train.

His eyes widened, lips parting, desperate for clarity.

"Wait… wait… so, what're you saying exactly?"

Goode stepped closer and lowered his tone.

"Emma's resistance isn't about jealousy in the usual sense. It's about boundaries and identity. Her best friend represents a sacred emotional space, one that she cannot let you touch. If you continue with Nadia, Emma will lose all trust in the people around her. She'll start to believe no woman in her circle is safe from your… influence."

He placed a firm hand on Scott's shoulder.

"Her mother. Her sister. Her friends. Anyone. She's trying to draw a line you can't cross."

Scott's chest tightened.

"I… never saw it like that."

"That's why you pay me…"

Goode replied dryly, before sighing.

But then he lowered his voice even more.

"Unfortunately, I fear I couldn't stop the damage. Ms. Graves said some very cruel things to Nadia. Cruel enough that I doubt their friendship can be repaired."

Scott's hands flew to his face.

His breathing turned sharp, ragged, like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"This is all my fault. I ruined their relationship. What the fuck is wrong with me—"

"Hey."

Goode patted him on the cheek.

It felt caring, but at the same time formal.

"There's no time for that. Right now, you need to be Emma's boyfriend. Forget therapy, forget plans. Just focus on her. I'll arrange some flight tickets—send you two somewhere quiet, away from this chaos. A vacation. That's your best chance."

Scott agreed with a tired nod.

"Will… that really work?"

Goode adjusted his tie.

"Who knows?"

He gave a small wave as he walked away.

"I'll bill you later."

Scott stood like a clueless sheep.

Willow walked up to him with a mean face.

"Look, I get Emma's feelings. But what I don't get is why she'd make her best friend cry. Still…"

She narrowed her eyes at Scott.

"This is on you. Make up your damn mind. If you want Nadia, then say it. If not, stop giving her hope. She doesn't deserve to waste her life clinging to some delusional harem slot you're pity-offering."

She shook her head and marched off.

Meanwhile, Bella was already on a phone call.

When she caught Scott staring, she smiled sweetly and covered the speaker.

"Scott, darling, they're shooting a scene for my new movie. I really must go."

She tiptoed to hug him gently.

"You'll be fine, okay…?"

She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I'll check up on you tomorrow."

With that, she rushed off, still on the call.

"I'M COMING, I'M COMING!"

And just like that, Scott was alone again.

He finally stepped into his hospital room.

Emma was staring out the window with a regretful look on her face. She had said so many harsh things to Nadia during the last part of that session that she couldn't even imagine them being friends again. Jenna would be back soon from her business trip abroad, and Emma had no idea what to tell her or how to even explain everything that happened.

"I know what you're going to say…"

She murmured, but didn't turn.

"Go ahead. I was harsh. I ruined the one friendship that ever kept me grounded. Haven't I tried? Haven't I let Gwen into this relationship already? Can't you see things from my side…?"

Silence answered her.

She frowned and finally turned.

Scott sat at the table, holding the bowl of food she had made. He kept shoving big bites into his mouth, chewing with tears in his eyes—not because he was emotional, but because the food tasted terrible.

"Mmm… tastes so good…"

His face turned purple and he swallowed the abomination.

Then he grinned at her.

Even as his throat fought to reject it.

"Ahh, my arm's aching a bit… if only there was someone who could feed me…"

He chuckled weakly.

And a glossy-eyed Emma… actually laughed.

━ ━ ━ ━

The following night in Hollowpoint Slums…

The alley was quieter than usual.

Just the faint crackle of a fire in a rusted barrel, the smell of smoke clinging to damp cardboard, and the distant barking of stray dogs.

Then came the sound.

Engines.

Two black SUVs quietly rolled into the slums.

Their dark tinted windows were intimidating enough to chase away some thugs.

The doors opened, and a group of men in black suits stepped out. Their shoes were polished, their ties were sharp, and their faces showed nothing.

They didn't look like police.

But in these parts, anything polished was trouble.

"Shit…!"

One of the homeless men hissed.

He dropped his cup and scrambled like a madman.

Others started mumbling as they shifted uneasily.

Some were already on their feet, ready to scatter like pigeons after a gunshot.

The old woman from before, hunched in her mound of coats, clicked her tongue.

"Stay calm. Panicking won't make 'em vanish."

But even she leaned back a little when a tall man stepped forward. His hair was slicked back, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat on his face. Two men walked beside him, each carrying slim leather briefcases.

When he spoke, his voice was sharp and formal.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Meteor City's Block C encampment—my name is Mr. Yates, senior counsel representing Crowe Enterprises. We are not here to cause harm. We are here for one person."

His eyes scanned the group until they landed on her.

Amalie.

She sat there still hunched, wrapped in her tattered coat.

Her pale face and tired, dull eyes looked just as painful to look at as always.

The other homeless began to murmur louder.

Some moved in front of her protectively, but Yates raised a hand calmly.

"Relax. We are not here under police orders, nor do we represent debt collectors. Our client, Madam Adira Crowe, has issued a directive regarding Miss Amalie Andersen."

He snapped his fingers.

One of the assistants opened a briefcase and began pulling out documents, each neatly clipped and stamped with red seals.

"This is a legal reinstatement package…"

Yates explained with half-lidded eyes.

"Effective immediately, Amalie Andersen regains full and unrestricted access to her personal and corporate accounts. Offshore holdings, bank deposits, investment portfolios—all transferred back under her sole authority. Titles to her residential estates, her vehicles, and her private properties are hereby restored. Furthermore, Crowe Enterprises will withdraw all prior claims of liability or negligence associated with the breach incident dated three months ago. In plain terms—"

He adjusted his glasses.

"You are effectively cleared of blame. Your assets are yours once more."

The papers were set down gently on a folding table they'd carried with them.

The homeless group just stared.

They were stunned to silence.

Then, slowly, Amalie lifted her head.

"Why…?"

Her voice was hoarse.

It was like whatever little life she had left in her had already been sucked out.

"Why now? Why… give me back things that mean nothing anymore? Do you heartless bastards really think houses or cars will bring him back—!?"

Her voice cracked.

Her frail body shook, and then—she lost it.

Her scream ripped through the alley like a torn siren.

She clawed at her own coat, screaming and sobbing.

"JOOOOOEEE! JOE! JOEE!!"

Cough! Cough──!!

"Joe…"

She bent forward, palms slapping the ground as her tears stained the cardboard beneath her.

"Give me him back! You hear me!? Bring him back!"

She coughed even harder.

"Don't you dare hand me papers and keys and call it an apology… his life is worth more than that—!"

The legal team froze in awkward silence.

Not even their polished training could prepare them for this sort of grief.

A couple shifted uncomfortably, eyes down as they waited for Yates to speak.

But it wasn't Yates who moved.

It was the old woman.

She leaned over and rested her trembling, wrinkled hand on Amalie's back.

"Hush now, girl… hush…"

She gave her slow, gentle pats.

"Feel free to cry. To let it all out. But don't you dare spit on a second chance. This world don't give many. Don't matter if he's gone—he wouldn't want you rotting on a street corner, no? Take it. Live. For him if not for yourself."

Amalie's cries broke again, softer and weaker this time.

"I miss him so much…"

"Shhhh~ I know you do, dear."

Finally, Amalie's cries faded into tired, shaky breaths.

She leaned into the old woman's hand like a child holding on to her mother.

Yates cleared his throat carefully.

"There's more."

He spoke with regained composure.

"Per Madam Crowe's direct order, construction will begin in this very district within the month. A humanitarian complex—permanent shelters, medical wings, and distribution centers for food and clothing. Fully funded by Crowe Enterprises. Employment opportunities will also be available for those able to work. This is not charity. This is a sustainable program, written into law under Crowe's name."

For a moment… silence.

Then murmurs spread like wildfire.

"Food?"

"Shelters?"

"Jobs?"

Some laughed nervously, some cried.

Others clapped their hands together in disbelief.

A couple of the men hugged each other, shaking.

All of a sudden, it felt like their lives had meaning again.

The old woman gave a deep nod.

"About damn time…"

But then her eyes drifted upward.

Up on the rooftop, a figure crouched low.

Nightwatch.

He hadn't moved once since the SUVs arrived.

Just listened and watched them smile.

His chest rose and fell heavy, as if every sob Amalie let out was punching his ribs in.

『I'm gonna give her some space for now… but I still need to have a talk with her.』

He adjusted his high-tech mask.

The old woman squinted.

Their eyes locked across the distance.

Nightwatch gave her nothing fancy.

Just a simple, tired two-finger salute.

Then he stepped back into the shadows and was gone.

The old woman's lips curved faintly, like she understood something no one else did.

"Guess he's not so bad…"

The fire popped in the barrel.

And the night carried on.

･･･

Nightwatch landed on another rooftop with a dive roll, then stood up and leaned back against an industrial air conditioner to catch his breath.

His phone buzzed.

He didn't need to check the screen.

"Adira…"

He muttered flatly as he answered.

Her elegant laugh slid through the speaker like honey poured over glass.

"So serious. Can't you at least greet me with a little warmth, dearest? I already kept my word. Your precious Amalie has everything back. Assets. Properties. Freedom. All tied neatly with a bow."

Scott took off his high-tech mask with a soft tsssh.

"And you're expecting what? A thank you?"

"Mmm. Maybe~ or maybe just some praise. So… does that mean we're friends now?"

"Far from it."

His reply was immediate, steel-cut.

"Ooh~"

She hummed in that sweet bedroom voice of hers.

"That's what I like about you. You're always rude to me. Everyone else either trembles or grovels, but you? You press a gun to my throat, whisper threats, and still act like I'm beneath you. It's refreshing."

"Try refreshing when I actually pull the trigger."

Adira chuckled softly at this.

"Mmh… I won't lie. If it's you pinning me against the wall to blow my head off, I wouldn't call that the worst way to spend an evening."

Scott rolled his eyes to the skyline.

"You're unbelievable."

"I try."

There was a pause.

A small silence where only the wind hummed.

『Sigh~ I need to put her in jail asap… (;一_一)』

Scott shook his head.

Then Adira's tone softened—just a little.

"Brigid's waiting for you at Meteor Hills. A small roadside café with blue awnings. Now, now, don't glare at me—I really didn't manipulate her like you think. She came to me by her own will. But you can still change her mind… if you're persuasive enough."

Scott's eyes narrowed.

"Why tell me this? What do you gain?"

"Entertainment…"

She was quick to respond.

In the end, she knew he'd put her behind bars soon unless she chose to run. But there was no point in that—and it wasn't because she thought she couldn't get away from Scott.

So, she was just having her fun.

"Besides, I want to see if you really mean it. You chase her so desperately… why is she worth the trouble?"

Scott closed his eyes for a breath, then opened them again with clarity.

"Because she's precious to me."

Adira's silence lingered.

Then a soft sigh, almost wistful.

The kind you'd hear from a damsel in distress when she described her prince charming.

"Lucky girl."

The call clicked dead.

･･･

Half an Hour Later…

The café's glow spilled onto the sidewalk.

Brigid sat on a bench by the roadside, her sweatshirt sleeves pulled down over her hands and her miniskirt just covering the tops of her thighs. Her legs swung restlessly as her cute little sneakers lightly scraped the pavement while she fiddled with her thumbs.

When she spotted him approaching, her eyes lit up.

"LORD SCO—!"

But then dimmed quickly as her head turned away with a guilty frown.

Scott raised a hand in a casual wave.

"Yo."

He was wearing black pants and a leather jacket over a loose white T-shirt.

Brigid didn't wave back.

Just looked smaller as her slender shoulders hunched like she was ashamed to be seen.

He sighed.

『Stupid girl…』

When he reached her, he gave her a firm knock on the top of her head with his knuckles.

"Hey—!"

Brigid squeaked like a little rat and clutched her crown as her cheeks puffed up.

"Quit looking like you stole someone's lunch money."

Scott said in a calm and firm manner.

"You made a choice. Own it. Don't sulk."

"Uuuuu…! (＞﹏＜)"

She pouted, rubbing her head as her lips trembled like she wanted to argue but didn't have the words.

They started walking side by side.

Scott slipped his hands into his pockets.

"If you want to stay with Adira, I won't hold it against you. No one's chaining you. It's your life."

He kept his voice even.

Brigid's hands fidgeted.

"… I don't know what I want."

"Yeah, you do."

He cut in smoothly.

"You feel overlooked. You want validation. You want to be seen like Irina is. Nothing wrong with that. But you're confusing easy with right."

She blinked at him as her lips parted slightly.

He kept walking as he talked.

"Look. Scott and Nightwatch? Two different people. One's a man who screws up, doubts, and trips over his own choices. The other's a mask who carries the weight anyway. Both are me. Both have strengths. Both have weaknesses. Same goes for Silver Sentinel. Same goes for every hero."

He glanced at her.

"You don't make your choice as Brigid-the-girl who wants comfort. You make it as Brigid-the-hero who wants to do what's right. Don't let desperation decide for you."

Her sneakers slowed.

She stared at him, wide-eyed.

Slowly, her lips parted.

"That… makes sense."

Scott gave a faint smile.

"Good. To be honest, that's one of the reasons I'm in love with Emma. She doesn't pick the easy path. She picks the right one."

Brigid froze.

Her heart skipped so violently she almost stumbled.

Her face turned hot.

"Th-, Then…"

She stammered in a tiny and nervous manner.

"C-, Couldn't you… l-, love me for the same reason? If I… chose the right path too?"

She bit her lower lip.

"I promise I'll be good… (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)"

Scott stopped walking.

Brigid panicked a little, nervously tugging at her baggy sleeves while her smooth knees pressed together shyly as she dared to sneak a glance at him.

Then—his hand lifted gently to her cheek.

Her breath ceased drastically.

Her whole face went bright red as her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

"Brigid…"

Scott said softly, his eyes steady on hers.

"I already do."

And before she could even squeak, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

Her knees nearly gave out.

"Mmmph…! (๑>﹏<๑)♡"

Her entire body was trembling while her ears glowed harder than heated iron.

She couldn't even look at him now.

She just hugged her sleeves and tried to hide her face.

Scott chuckled faintly and straightened up.

"C'mon. Let's go."

Birgid followed him with a tiny smile on her face.