My Scumbag System

Her good eye widened in mock innocence, hand fluttering to her chest in theatrical shock. "Me? What did I do, kiddo? I'm just an innocent bystander in all this."

"You abandoned your students. In a medical facility. On our first day. After one of them was just knocked unconscious by a faculty member." I ticked off each point on my fingers, my tone light but my eyes hard. "I believe that's what they call 'gross negligence.' Or perhaps 'dereliction of duty' sounds better on a formal complaint?"

Carmen wasn't fazed. If anything, her lips curved into a predatory smile that transformed her face, revealing the cunning beneath the carefree exterior. She slid off the chair and sauntered toward me, her hips swaying with each deliberate step, the movement drawing every male eye in the room.

She stopped mere inches away, close enough that I could smell the faint trace of whiskey on her breath and something deeper, more enticing—a perfume that hinted at jasmine and danger. Her impressive chest nearly brushed against my arm as she leaned in, her voice dropping to a husky purr that somehow carried in the suddenly silent room.

"You're right. That was very irresponsible of me." Her fingers traced the collar of my uniform, the touch feather-light but electric. "Is there anything... anything at all... I can do to earn your forgiveness?"

Jacob made a strangled noise from somewhere behind me. I heard Akari snicker, whispering something that made Hikari stifle a laugh.

Before I could respond—though I'll admit, I was curious to see how far she'd take this little performance, how much she could make the room squirm—Natalia materialized between us like an avenging violet-eyed angel. She placed a firm hand on Carmen's shoulder and pushed her back with surprising strength, her eyes flashing dangerously, the air around her crackling with barely suppressed telekinetic energy.

"Personal space, Sensei. As a TA, you should know better. Unless you're trying to add 'sexual harassment' to your list of professional failures?"

Carmen's eye widened slightly at the venom in Natalia's voice, before her expression melted into delighted amusement. "My, my. Aren't we protective?" She took a deliberate step back, hands raised in mock surrender, but her smile remained knowing, as if she'd confirmed something important.

"Ooh, she's territorial," Akari stage-whispered to Hikari from their position on the couch, her voice carrying perfectly in the sudden quiet. "Didn't take long to establish the pecking order."

"She's marking her property. Smart move." Skylar didn't even bother looking up from her phone this time, her bored tone belying the keen interest I knew she took in every social interaction. "Better to set boundaries early than fight for scraps later."

Emi shifted uncomfortably behind me, her usual cheerful demeanor subdued. I caught her glancing between Natalia and me, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. Another interesting data point to file away.

The room crackled with new energy, the earlier tension transformed into something more volatile and infinitely more interesting. I watched as Natalia and Carmen locked eyes in silent challenge, a battle of wills playing out for everyone to see. Neither woman was backing down, the moment stretching like a wire pulled taut.

Perfect. They're already jockeying for position. I barely had to do anything. The Ensemble mechanics were kicking in beautifully. Natalia's elevated rank was already triggering competition among potential additions. Like moths to a flame, they were beginning to orbit around me, establishing their hierarchies without realizing they were all playing into my hands.

Braxton's sharp clap cut through the standoff like a gunshot, making Jacob jump so violently he nearly toppled his chair.

"Alright, that's enough daytime drama. Save it for your personal time." He drained the last of his coffee and set the mug down with more force than necessary. "Let's talk business before you hormone-addled teenagers give me a migraine."

He tapped his wristband, projecting a holographic schedule into the center of the room. The blue light illuminated everyone's faces as they leaned in to examine the densely packed timetable. A collective groan rose from several corners as the reality of their new life sank in.

"This is your life now," Braxton announced, gesturing to the packed timetable with a sadistic gleam in his bloodshot eyes. "5:30 AM wake-up. And I mean everyone—looking at you, Navarro, no more sleeping until noon."

Juan's only response was a soft snore from the couch.

"6:00 AM physical conditioning—that means running until you puke. 8:00 AM breakfast, which you'll be too nauseous to eat. 9:00 AM to noon, combat training, where I'll personally make sure you understand the difference between the play-fighting you did in high school and actual life-or-death survival. Lunch break—thirty minutes, not a second more.

1:00 PM to 4:00 PM specialized Aspect development with Carmen. 4:00 PM to 6:00 PM tactical simulations in the Gauntlet. Dinner—you'll need it by then. 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM academic coursework, because contrary to popular belief, being able to punch things isn't enough to pass. Lights out at 10:30 PM.

Any deviation from this schedule will result in... creative punishments." His smile promised pain.

He looked around the room, his expression daring anyone to complain. The silence stretched, no one willing to be the first to object.

Finally, Jacob raised a trembling hand, his adam's apple bobbing nervously as he swallowed. "Do we, um, do we get weekends off?" His voice cracked on the last word.

Braxton's laugh was short and harsh, like broken glass. "Kid, monsters don't take weekends off. Gates don't close because it's Saturday. But yes, Sundays are lighter. Just morning conditioning and evening review." He paused. "Consider it my act of mercy. Don't get used to it."

"How considerate," Juan mumbled from the couch, one eye cracked open to observe the proceedings, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Your benevolence knows no bounds, oh captain my captain."

"I'd make a sarcastic comment back, Navarro, but I'd have to care first," Braxton replied without missing a beat. "Now for the fun part." He expanded a section of the hologram, highlighting a series of dates in red. "NVA policy dictates that during the first quarter, each guild must conduct joint training exercises with the other four guilds. Twice a month, you'll be paired with another class for a live, supervised F or D-Rank Gate clearance on the mainland."

A murmur rippled through the room—part excitement, part dread. Even Juan sat up, his perpetual boredom momentarily forgotten.

"Real Gates? Not simulations?" Pan Soomin's voice was barely audible, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "Isn't that... dangerous for first-years?"

"That's the point," Raphael scoffed, his voice harsh. "Separating the real Hunters from the pretenders." His eyes flicked to me meaningfully.

"Which guilds will we be paired with, Professor?" Isabelle inquired, her regal voice cutting through the chatter like a silver bell. "I assume there's a predetermined rotation?"

"The schedule is random. It's designed to force you to adapt to unfamiliar teammates and powersets." Braxton's grin was feral, almost predatory, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp for comfort. "It's also meant to establish the natural order of things early. Show you where you really stand in the food chain."

He paused, scanning each face in the room, building anticipation with practiced showmanship. "Our first joint op is in two weeks. And our partners..." He paused again, clearly savoring the moment like a fine wine.

"...are the Argent Sentinels."