My Scumbag System
Chapter 218: A Conversation With My Diminutive, Annoying Landlord
I shut the door to my room and leaned against it, letting out a long exhale. The chaos of the living room faded, replaced by blessed silence.
The early afternoon light filtered through my half-drawn blinds, casting elongated shadows across the floor. šÆš»šššš®šš·ššæšš.ššøš¢
I crossed to the desk where Iād placed Bartholomewās terrarium. The immortal snail was methodically devouring a piece of lettuce, his tiny mouth working with relentless determination.
He seemed completely unbothered by the morningās drama or my near-death experience with Braxton. The little gastropodās single-minded focus was almost enviable.
"Well, Bartholomew," I said, tapping lightly on the glass, watching as he continued his meal without pause. "That went about as expected. Got my ass handed to me, established dominance over the pack through strategic humiliation, and made Natalia jealous enough to stake her claim publicly. All in all, a productive morning."
Bartholomew continued munching his lettuce, utterly unimpressed by my scheming. His indifference was somehow both insulting and refreshing. Here was the one entity in my life who couldnāt be manipulated, couldnāt be seduced, and couldnāt care less about my grand designs. There was something pure about that.
"Youāre right," I agreed with his silent judgment, running a finger along the edge of his terrarium. "Action speaks louder than words. And itās time for some significant action."
I sat on the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as my bruised muscles protested. Every inch of my body ached from Braxtonās "lesson." I could still feel the phantom impact of his fists, the way heād tossed me around like a rag doll.
I pulled up my status screen with a thought. The familiar blue light illuminated my face with its ethereal glow, casting my features in sharp relief against the shadows of my room. My eyes widened at what I saw.
SATORI NAKANO
Level: 1 | Schema Points: 524
Five hundred SPāfrom the quest to land a hit on Braxtonāplus twenty-four from Nataliaās passive generation. The number glowed with promise, with potential. It was a validation of my approach, a sign that even in defeat, I was moving forward.
My queen was already paying dividends. I smiled at the thought of her, of how sheād staked her claim so openly this morning. How perfectly sheād fallen into the role Iād designed for her. She was evolving from conquest to asset, from target to weapon.
I checked my stats. They hadnāt moved, still hovering at values that made me dangerous to most normal students but laughably weak compared to someone like Braxton. The progress was there, but it was incremental, painfully slow. No point wasting this windfall on such meager improvements. Not when I could gamble for a kingdom.
I glanced at Bartholomew, who had paused his leafy feast to extend his eyestalks in my direction. In the dim light of my room, his tiny eyes seemed to glimmer with an almost knowing intelligence.
"Time to talk to the landlord, buddy. Letās see whatās for sale." I picked at a loose thread on my bedspread, mentally calculating my odds. "The question is, do I play it safe, or do I roll the dice?"
Bartholomewās answer was to retract slightly into his shell before emerging again, a motion that looked almost like a shrug.
I closed my eyes, focusing my will. The room around me seemed to fade, the ambient sounds of the house growing distant as I concentrated. "Apolloās Gacha Emporium."
The air in my room shimmered and warped, distorting like heat waves rising from summer pavement. Reality folded in on itself like origami paper being crumpled by an impatient child, the very fabric of space twisting in ways that hurt my eyes to follow.
A miniature tornado of golden sparkles materialized above my desk, spinning faster and faster until it collapsed into the floating, cross-legged form of Apolloās chibi avatar.
"Well, well, well!" Apollo crooned, his perfect, miniature face splitting into a grin that was both adorable and deeply unsettling. His golden curls bounced as he bobbed in the air, his toga pristinely white against the backdrop of my cluttered room. "If it isnāt my favorite tragedy-in-the-making! Howās the academy treating you? Aside from the, you knowā" He mimed a punching motion, complete with cartoony sound effects that somehow carried the full impact of Braxtonās blows.
"Bam! Pow! Splat! That sparring match was exquisite. Nothing gets the ratings up like watching a protagonist get absolutely demolished! Very... character-building."
I crossed my arms, unimpressed by his theatrical display. The diminutive godās mockery was becoming routine, a predictable preamble to our transactions. "Cut the crap, Apollo. Iāve got SP to burn. Whatās the special today?"
Apolloās tiny eyes gleamed with mischief, a swirl of cosmic energy dancing within his irises. He floated closer, invading my personal space with the confidence of a deity who knew I couldnāt do a damn thing about it. His toga fluttered despite the lack of breeze in my room, defying physics in that casual way immortals loved to flaunt.
"Impatient, are we? I suppose thatās to be expected from someone with your... ambitious timeline." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his finger making a sound like a tiny bell with each tap. "Fine. For you, my star performer, I have a very special, one-time-only offer."
He snapped his fingers, and the sound echoed with supernatural resonance. A new banner appeared on the Gacha interface that only I could see. It glittered with gold and platinum sparkles, sending shimmering reflections across my walls like underwater caustics. The sight was hypnotic, mesmerizing in a way that made my teeth ache with desire.
"Behold!" Apollo spread his tiny arms dramatically, his voice expanding to fill the room despite his diminutive size. "A āWelcome to the Academyā rate-up banner! For the low, low price of 350 SP, you get a five-pull where every single item is GUARANTEED GOLD-TIER OR HIGHER!" He spun in the air, trailing golden sparks that dissolved into nothing before they could touch any surface.
"Thatās right! No bronze trash! No silver mediocrity! Only the good stuff!"