My Scumbag System

Twitch noticed what I'd done and gaped at me like I'd grown a second head.

"Are you insane?" he hissed, his voice tight with horror. "You just failed!"

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms with deliberate casualness, enjoying the terror on his face. "We'll see," was all I said, my voice low and confident.

For the next few minutes, nothing happened. I sat in silence, watching the room like a predator observing a herd from the tall grass. Most students were still hunched over their datapads, frantically scribbling nonsensical answers, desperately trying to make sense of the impossible questions. A few were openly panicking now, their breathing shallow and quick. One guy three rows ahead had his head down on his desk, shoulders shaking in what looked like silent sobs. Each display of desperation was another small victory.

Then something interesting happened. A girl with short, blue and pink hair in the front row suddenly straightened up, her brow furrowed in concentration. She stared at her screen for a long moment, eyes narrowing, then deliberately hit the submit button with a decisive tap. She caught my eye afterward, and I gave her a small nod of acknowledgment. Smart girl. A worthy competitor.

Like a slow-moving infection, more students began to follow suit. Not many—maybe one in fifty—but enough to create a subtle current of movement in the sea of desperate faces. Each time someone submitted a blank exam, I felt a small surge of satisfaction slide through me. Every person who figured out the game was one less competitor I'd need to worry about in the next phase, but also someone potentially dangerous enough to keep an eye on.

At the thirty-minute mark, Lieutenant Commander Reeves returned to the stage. She stood silently, arms crossed, watching the room with those cold, calculating eyes. When she spoke, her voice sliced through the desperate scratching of styluses and muttered prayers like a knife through butter.

"Interesting," she said, drawing out the word with almost sensual pleasure. "Some of you have already submitted your exams. Bold move. Or maybe just giving up?"

Her eyes found mine across the room, and her smile widened fractionally—not in amusement, but in something that looked almost like approval.

"Twenty-nine minutes remaining," she announced, then resumed her silent vigil, the riding crop tapping slowly against her palm.

Natalia was still working furiously on her exam, but I could see the frustration building in the tight set of her shoulders, the way she kept brushing her purple hair away from her face. Come on, Ice Queen. You're smarter than this. Figure it out.

As if she'd heard my thoughts, she suddenly stopped writing. She sat perfectly still for a long moment, then slowly raised her head and scanned the room with those sharp purple eyes. When her gaze met mine, I saw the exact moment understanding dawned on her beautiful face. Without breaking eye contact, she tapped her screen and submitted her blank exam. I gave her the smallest of smiles, a private message between conspirators.

I couldn't directly signal Emi without drawing attention, so I could only watch as she worked herself into a frenzy, tears of frustration glistening at the corners of her eyes. Unlike Natalia, who'd caught on through sheer brilliance, Emi was too earnest, too desperate to prove herself. She was drowning in the trap without even realizing it was there.

With fifteen minutes left on the clock, roughly fifty students out of the thousands had submitted blank exams. Most still hunched over their datapads, frantically scribbling nonsense answers to unsolvable problems. Reeves had resumed her predatory stalking of the stage, that riding crop slapping against her thigh.

Tap, tap, tap—each strike like a countdown to their collective failure.

"Fifteen minutes," she announced, voice dripping with false concern. "For those still working, I suggest you focus on the questions you're most confident in. Remember, fifty percent is the cutoff."

Another lie. The Liar's Brooch burned hot against my chest, confirming what I already knew.

This sadistic bitch was enjoying every second of their panic.

Ten excruciating minutes crawled by. More students submitted their exams, some broken by despair, others finally catching the scent of deception. Emi, sweet, naive Emi, still hadn't caught on, and genuine concern began to gnaw at me. Her chances were evaporating with each passing second.

With the clock's merciless hands showing just two minutes remaining, Reeves spoke again. "Two minutes, prospects. Make them count."

I spotted Emi finally slumping back from her datapad, defeat written across her face in crushing detail. Her eyes darted around the room, seeking solidarity in shared failure, until they locked with mine. I deliberately tapped my chest twice, right where the Liar's Brooch lay concealed, then made a sharp, decisive cutting motion with my hand.

Her brow furrowed in adorable confusion. I repeated the gesture more forcefully, my eyes boring into hers. Submit it, goddammit. Just submit the fucking thing.

The lightbulb finally flickered on. Without another moment's hesitation, she jabbed the submit button, then flashed me a nervous thumbs-up, trust radiating from her like a beacon.

"Time's up!" Reeves barked as the clock struck zero. "All exams have been automatically submitted. Remain seated."

The tension in the hall was suffocating. Puke Girl had progressed to full-blown silent sobbing, black mascara rivulets carving paths down her reddened cheeks. Twitch had resumed his manic pen-clicking, each rapid-fire click amplified in the oppressive silence.

Reeves stood at center stage, hands clasped behind her back like some military executioner, surveying her domain of fear with that same inscrutable, predatory smile.

"Congratulations to those who passed," she finally announced. "And to those who failed... the ferry back to the mainland leaves in thirty minutes. Don't miss it."

A confused murmur rippled through the crowd like wind through a graveyard. "But how do we know who passed?" someone called out, voice cracking with panic.

Reeves chuckled, the sound like broken glass in a garbage disposal. "Oh, you'll know. In fact..." She consulted her watch. "You should be finding out right about... now."

On perfect cue, datapads throughout the hall began to chime with notifications. Students lunged for their devices with desperate energy. Around me, a cacophony of shock, disbelief, and raw, undiluted outrage erupted.

I looked down at my own screen.

EXAMINATION RESULT: PASS

PROCEED TO COMBAT ARENA C FOR PHASE TWO