My Scumbag System-Chapter 330: My Team’s Biggest Weakness is Also Our Secret Weapon
My bedroom wasn’t designed for six people.
It definitely wasn’t designed for six people with complicated relationship dynamics, fragile egos, and at least two who were actively plotting ways to get the others out.
Natalia had claimed her territory on my bed. She sat with her back against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles, radiating the energy of a queen surveying her court from the throne. Her purple eyes tracked every movement in the room with the intensity of a predator cataloging potential threats.
Emi perched on the rug near my feet, her notebook open and pen ready. She’d drawn little hearts in the margins. I pretended not to notice.
Jacob stood by the holographic projector I’d borrowed from the common room, his fingers twitching against the controls. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the room’s temperature being perfectly normal. The guy looked like he was about to present his thesis to a panel of executioners instead of reviewing Gate data with his teammates.
Skylar occupied the darkest corner of the room. Arms crossed. Violet eyes half-lidded. Watching me the way a cat watches a mouse it’s already decided to eat later.
And Monica...
Monica was at my desk, completely ignoring the entire strategic planning session to commune with Bartholomew the Immortal Snail.
"You’re a very slow conqueror, aren’t you?" She whispered to him, her honey-blonde hair falling forward to curtain her face. "Yes, you are. Such a patient little emperor. One day you’ll rule this terrarium with an iron... shell?"
It was the first time she’d looked relaxed since arriving at Onyx House.
Hell, it was the first time she’d looked anything other than terrified or ashamed since I’d met her. The botanical princess who’d been used as a human shield by her golden prince charming was currently baby-talking to a gastropod who consumed lettuce with the enthusiasm of a death row inmate enjoying his last meal.
The lettuce, I noted, was premium organic. Definitely stolen from the kitchen. Raphael was going to have questions about that.
I clapped my hands together. "Alright. Monica, say goodbye to the gastropod. We have work to do."
She startled, nearly knocking Bartholomew’s terrarium off the desk. Her amber eyes went wide with guilt before she collected herself with a small cough.
"Of course. I apologize." She gave Bartholomew one last pat on his shell. "We’ll continue our discussion later, Your Slowness."
Natalia’s eyebrow twitched.
"Jacob." I pointed at the projector. "Show us what you’ve got."
The nervous information broker stumbled forward, nearly tripping over Emi’s outstretched legs. "R-right! So I filtered through the available Gates for Open Season and eliminated anything that didn’t fit our team composition."
The hologram flickered to life, displaying a map of Sector 7 dotted with glowing markers. Most of them were crossed out with red X’s that looked like someone had stabbed them repeatedly with a digital pen.
"I removed the Horde Gates because we don’t have the sustained DPS for attrition fights. I removed anything below D-Rank because the risk-reward ratio is garbage. And I removed anything that’s already been claimed by the other guilds."
"Smart." I leaned forward. "What’s left?"
Three markers remained.
"Option A." Jacob pulled up the first file. "The Iron Ant Hill. C-Rank Standard. High monster density, mostly insectoid constructs. The boss is a Queen Terminator that spawns minions continuously until you destroy her core."
I shook my head before he finished. "Too many mobs. That’s a stamina grind. Perfect for Juan’s nuke squad, bad for us. We’re scalpel, not hammer."
Jacob nodded rapidly, making notes on his datapad. "O-option B then. The Mist-Walker’s Marsh. Also C-Rank. Swamp environment with naturally occurring fog that reduces visibility to approximately three meters."
"Visibility is zero." Skylar spoke from her corner, her voice dry as sand. "I can scout ahead, but relying on one person for sightlines on our first run together is asking for someone to get stabbed in the back."
"What she said." I pointed at Skylar. "Next."
Jacob’s nervous energy shifted to something closer to excitement. He’d clearly been saving the best for last.
"The Clockwork Arboretum."
The hologram changed to display a location that looked like someone had smashed a botanical garden into a steampunk factory. Massive trees with copper leaves. Vines wrapped around rusted gears the size of houses. Flowers made of brass petals that probably shot lasers or something equally ridiculous.
"C-Rank Standard. The interior is an overgrown ruin where plant life has fused with ancient machinery. Primary threats include vine-constructs and mechanical golems powered by sap."
Natalia leaned forward. "Sap-powered?"
"The Gate’s unique mechanic." Jacob pulled up additional data. "The machines can’t function without the plants. The plants can’t grow without the machines. They exist in symbiosis. Destroying one weakens the other."
I felt myself grin.
This was perfect.
"Threats require both botanical knowledge and mechanical understanding to dismantle effectively," Jacob continued. "The boss is a Botanical Engine at the center of the dungeon. A massive tree with clockwork internals that controls the entire ecosystem."
"Show me the suggested team composition."
The hologram displayed a recommended loadout. Plant manipulator. Precision ranged damage. Stealth scout. Healer. Two utility slots.
We had every single role covered.
I looked at Monica.
She had frozen when the words "plant manipulator" appeared on screen. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her skirt with white-knuckled intensity.
"This dungeon is basically made of your element." I held her gaze. "You’re going to be key. Can you handle it?"
The room went silent.
Emi stopped writing. Natalia’s predatory attention fixed on Monica with something between assessment and challenge. Skylar watched without expression.
Jacob looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
Monica’s amber eyes flickered to Bartholomew’s terrarium. Then to me.
Something shifted in her expression. The ghost of the girl Julian had broken began to harden into something with edges.
"I won’t freeze."
Three words. Quiet but firm.
I nodded. "Good. Then I’ll go ahead and let Braxton know tomorrow. Get some sleep. Dismissed."
