My Scumbag System - Chapter 120

Chapter 120: The Stray Dog’s Manifesto
“Thank you, Valerius-san,” I replied. “That’s incredibly gracious of you. It takes a truly secure man of high station to apologize to someone like me.” I bowed my head slightly. “It speaks volumes about your character, the kind of exemplary leadership the Hunter world needs.”

Several onlookers exchanged meaningful glances, the silent language of the elite speaking volumes. A middle-aged woman with an elaborate silver-threaded updo raised her eyebrows just enough to telegraph her amusement, her crimson lips quirking at the corners in poorly concealed delight at this unexpected social theater. Julian noticed her reaction immediately, his perfectly composed facade cracking just enough for me to spot the muscle in his jaw twitching beneath his golden-boy skin.

“Let us seal this new understanding with a toast,” Julian announced, raising his champagne flute high as though he were giving a speech at his own coronation. His eyes never left mine, cold and calculating despite the warm smile plastered across his face. “A gesture of goodwill between future colleagues at the Academy. After all, we are all servants of the same noble cause.”

The circle of spectators widened. More eyes turned our way, drawn by the spectacle of Julian Valerius addressing the unknown son of a B-Rank Hunter. I could almost hear their thoughts:

Who is that boy?

Why is Julian Valerius bothering with him?

“Of course!” I exclaimed with enthusiasm. I held up my bright pink punch in its plain glass. “Though, as a prospect, I’m not permitted alcohol at official functions. I’ll have to toast with this… whatever it is.” I examined the neon liquid with exaggerated curiosity. “But the sentiment is what matters, right?”

Another visual reminder of our difference: Julian with his crystal flute of golden champagne, me with my garish children’s punch. But I wasn’t hiding from the contrast—I was embracing it, turning my outsider status into armor.

Julian’s friends shifted uncomfortably behind him. They’d expected me to shrink under their collective gaze. Instead, I was basking in it.

“Well then,” Julian said, his voice taking on a declamatory quality. He was now fully aware of his audience and determined to make use of it. “To the future of the Hunter world!”

He paused dramatically, sweeping his gaze across the gathered faces.

“A future built upon the unshakable foundations of the great families who came before us. Those who, through generations of sacrifice and excellence, have earned the right to lead.” His eyes locked onto mine, cold and triumphant. “Those whose bloodlines carry the legacy of power, ensuring that the next generation begins where the last one left off—at the top.”

The crowd murmured polite agreement. Several older patrons nodded appreciatively. Julian’s father, watching from across the room, gave an approving nod.

Julian turned back to me, his smile now genuine. In his mind, he had won. He had reasserted the natural order in front of everyone who mattered. The nobody had been put in his place.

I smiled back, the picture of innocence, and raised my ridiculous pink punch.

“An excellent toast, Valerius-san,” I said. “Now, if you’ll permit me, I’d like to offer one of my own.”

The collective intake of breath from the surrounding audience was audible. Julian blinked, caught off guard. He hadn’t expected me to counter. The lamb had just challenged the lion.

“By all means,” Julian replied after a beat too long. “Though perhaps keep it brief. I wouldn’t want to delay your father from his networking.”

I took a small step forward, claiming the center of our impromptu stage.

“Valerius-san is right,” I began, nodding respectfully in his direction. “The foundations of the past are important. We honor the heroes who built this city from the rubble of the Rupture.”

Julian relaxed slightly, his posture loosening as he assumed I was conceding to his worldview.

I continued. “But let us not forget what the Rupture truly taught us.” I raised my glass higher. “A Gate doesn’t ask for your pedigree. A monster doesn’t check your family crest before it tries to rip you in half.”

The easy murmurs of agreement faltered. Several people exchanged glances.

“The old world died years ago,” I said, my voice gaining quiet intensity. “A new world was born in fire and chaos. In this world, power isn’t just inherited—it’s manifested.”

I turned slightly, addressing the other prospects in the crowd, the ones without famous last names who had fought their way into this room through talent and grit alone.

“It’s earned through blood and sweat and fear. It’s seized by those with the will to survive, regardless of where they came from.”

A tall, dark-skinned woman in an A-Rank Hunter’s uniform nodded slowly. Beside her, a guild recruiter with a prosthetic arm leaned forward, his eyes narrowed with interest.

“The Gates don’t care about our social hierarchies,” I continued. “They don’t respect our traditions or our legacies. They are the great equalizer. And in their shadow, the only bloodline that matters is the one you’re willing to spill.”

Finally, I turned my gaze directly onto Julian, whose face had gone rigid with fury. His knuckles were white around his champagne flute. In that moment, surrounded by New Vein’s elite, Julian looked like what he truly was—a child playing dress-up in his father’s world.

“So I toast to the real future,” I said, the words falling like quiet stones into a still pond. “Not the one bought by your father’s money, but the one forged in the fire of the Gates. I toast to the late-bloomers. To the orphans. To the strays.”

I held Julian’s gaze over the rim of my glass. “Because in a world full of monsters, a pedigree is just a fancy tombstone. And courage…” I paused. “Courage is a weapon you can’t inherit.”

I drank my punch.

The room went silent. The kind of silence that falls when something real slips through the polished veneer of high society—a truth that everyone knows but no one says aloud.

Julian was shaking, his face contorted with rage. The careful façade of aristocratic composure crumbled completely as he took a step toward me.

“You dare talk about family?” he snarled, his voice cracking. “Look at yours! A washed-up B-Rank, a useless Zero, and a sister who—”

He was cut off by the collective gasp of the crowd. In an instant, Julian had shattered the cardinal rule of high society: he had lost his composure and made it personal. His attack on my family transformed our exchange from a philosophical disagreement into a vulgar spectacle.

Several people physically stepped back. Julian’s father, now moving rapidly through the crowd toward us, looked like he was about to have a stroke.

I kept my expression neutral, allowing Julian’s outburst to hang in the air without response.

“Julian!” His father arrived, grabbing his son’s arm with barely concealed fury. “That’s enough.”

“But Father, he—”

“I said enough.” Valerius Senior turned to me, his smile tight but professional. “Please excuse my son, Mr. Nakano. The pressures of the upcoming entrance exams have everyone on edge.”

I nodded graciously. “Of course, sir. No harm done.”

Julian looked between his father and me, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. His friends stood frozen, clearly unsure whether to stay with their disgraced leader or slink away.

“Julian will be focusing on his preparation for the remainder of the evening,” his father continued smoothly. “I hope this… unfortunate exchange won’t color your impression of Valerius Industries or our partnership with the Academy.”

“Not at all,” I replied with a smile. “I look forward to seeing Julian at New Vein Academy. Competition brings out the best in all of us, doesn’t it?”

Valerius Senior’s smile faltered slightly. “Indeed. Good evening, Mr. Nakano.”

He steered his son away, whispering furiously in his ear. Julian glanced back once, his eyes burning with hatred. I raised my empty glass in a final mock salute.

As they disappeared into the crowd, a hand clapped my shoulder. I turned to find Braxton Miller standing behind me, a rare, genuine smile on his face.

“Kid,” he said, shaking his head slowly, “I think you just made an enemy for life.”

“Yeah, if he likes thinking about other men in his spare time. That’s not my style.”

“Touché.” He studied me for a moment, his gaze sharper than his slouched posture suggested. “That speech… you’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

I shrugged. “When you start with nothing, you have plenty of time to think about the ones who start with everything.”

Braxton nodded, a new understanding in his eyes. “The entrance exam is in a week. After that performance, young Valerius is going to make sure every legacy kid and sponsor’s darling has a target on your back.”

“Good,” I said. “I prefer knowing where my enemies are standing.”

“Interesting perspective.” Braxton’s smile turned cryptic. “Most people would try to avoid making enemies before they even enter the school.”

“Most people aren’t worth remembering,” I replied.

“Well, Satori Nakano, after tonight…” he gestured to the crowd of people now whispering and glancing in my direction, “I don’t think being forgotten is going to be your problem.”

As Braxton walked away, I felt Nel’s presence in my mind.

[Quest Completed: The Alpha’s Debut]

[Objective: Decisively humiliate an arrogant Scion at the VHC Gala. ✓]

[Reward: 50 SP]

[New Title Unlocked: The Social Predator]