My Scumbag System - Chapter 229

Chapter 229: I’m A Scumbag, Not A Teacher
Only Marco and Malachi seemed remotely satisfied with their performance. Along with my trio. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. Small islands of competence in a sea of dysfunction.

Natalia approached me. Pulled off her blindfold. Purple hair settled perfectly around her shoulders. Her expression wasn’t angry. It was something worse.

Disappointed.

I knew that look. I’d seen it on my mother’s face when I’d failed to live up to expectations. Back when I still had a mother. Back when failure meant a lecture instead of a bullet.

“That was a disaster,” she said quietly. Voice low enough that only I could hear.

“They’re undisciplined,” I replied. Crossed my arms defensively. My fingers dug into my biceps. “They don’t listen.”

She shook her head slowly. Those purple eyes held mine without wavering. “No, Satori. You don’t listen.”

Excuse me?

She gestured to the dejected group around us. A sweep of her arm encompassed the scattered, frustrated teenagers. “You tried to train them all the same way. The way you would want to be trained. But Jacob isn’t you. Raphael isn’t you. You can’t just plug them into your system and expect them to work.”

I stared at her. Momentarily speechless.

How dare she question my methods? I’d run operations that would make her privileged little head spin. I’d commanded men twice my age with body counts higher than her GPA.

“You’re a brilliant schemer,” she continued. Her voice softened slightly. “You’re a terrifying fighter. But you’re a terrible teacher. You don’t know how to build a team. You only know how to assemble assets.”

She turned and walked away. Each step was deliberate. Graceful. The distance between us grew. Literal and metaphorical.

I wanted to call her back. Wanted to argue. Wanted to prove her wrong.

But I couldn’t.

Because she was right.

Fuck.

I looked at the disparate, frustrated faces of the Onyx Hounds surrounding me. The truth of her words was an unwelcome poison seeping into my veins.

They weren’t assets. They weren’t pieces on a chessboard. They were people. Complicated, annoying, dysfunctional people with their own strengths and weaknesses. Their own incompatibilities.

Their own personalities that didn’t give a damn about my carefully laid plans.

For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt completely out of my depth.

Kaelen Leone knew how to break people. How to use people. How to frighten people into obedience. He knew how to wield power over subordinates who feared him. Who respected his reputation as a killer.

That reputation had been worth more than gold. Men would fall in line just hearing his name. Women would do anything to avoid his attention. Politicians would bend over backwards to stay on his good side.

But Satori Nakano needed to learn how to lead people who had no reason to fear him. Who had powers of their own. Who needed guidance instead of threats.

And I had no fucking clue how to do that.

Carmen sauntered over. Her one good eye was slightly unfocused. Her flask was finally empty. The scent of bourbon and cigarettes surrounded her like a personal cloud.

“Congratulations, kid. You’ve officially experienced your first leadership clusterfuck.” She clapped me on the shoulder. Her hand was surprisingly heavy. “Don’t worry. Everyone’s first time is terrible.”

“I know what I’m doing,” I muttered. Shrugged off her hand.

The lie tasted bitter in my mouth.

“Sure you do.” She chuckled. A rough sound like gravel being crushed. “That’s why your girlfriend just read you the riot act and half your team looks ready to mutiny.”

I glanced at Natalia. She was now standing with Emi and Noah near the water cooler. Her back was deliberately turned to me. The three of them huddled together. Formed a closed circle that excluded me completely.

“What would you have done differently?”

Damn it.

Carmen’s good eye gleamed with unexpected intelligence. “Me? I wouldn’t have tried to force squares into round holes.” She gestured to Raphael and Jacob with a lazy wave. “That kid’s got anxiety so bad he can barely form a sentence without data to back it up. And Raphael communicates exclusively in grunts and threats. What made you think they’d suddenly develop a common language?”

She had a point.

A painful one.

I’d been so focused on testing their abilities that I’d neglected to account for their personalities. Their communication styles. Their innate compatibilities.

The things that actually mattered when you put people together and expected them to function as a unit.

“So what now?” I asked. Hated the vulnerability in my voice.

“Now?” Carmen grinned. Revealed teeth stained from years of coffee and cigarettes. “Now you adapt. Or you fail. Those are your only options, Stray Dog.”

She walked off. Left me standing there alone.

I looked around the training ground. Really looked this time.

Jacob was still in the corner. Still hyperventilating. Nobody was checking on him. Nobody cared. Raphael had kicked another drone part across the floor. It clattered against the wall. His frustration was palpable. Visible. Ready to explode at any moment.

Jaime was trying to wake Juan up. The lazy bastard had actually fallen asleep. Just passed out right there on the ground. Jaime looked lost. Confused. Like he didn’t understand how his enthusiasm had failed to inspire anyone.

Akari and Isabelle stood on opposite ends of the arena. Both of them had their arms crossed. Both of them wore identical expressions of disdain. They’d probably rather die than admit they had anything in common.

Hikari was still fussing over Soomin. The pink-haired girl looked miserable. Tears streaked down her face. She’d failed. Again. In front of everyone. Again.

Marco and Malachi sat together. The only pair that looked content. They’d succeeded. But they were isolated. Cut off from the rest of the group by their competence.

And then there was my trio. Natalia, Noah, and Emi. Standing together. Looking satisfied. Looking like they didn’t need me at all.

That last part stung more than I wanted to admit.

Carmen was right. I’d made a critical error.

I’d assumed that because I could manipulate people individually, I could lead them collectively. But these weren’t yakuza enforcers who lived in fear of Kaelen’s reputation. They weren’t politicians susceptible to blackmail. They weren’t women vulnerable to seduction.

They were teenagers with superpowers and egos to match.

And I’d treated them like soldiers in an army. Expected them to fall in line. Follow orders. Execute perfectly.

But they weren’t soldiers. They were students. Kids, really. Most of them had never faced real danger. Never killed anyone. Never had to make the kind of choices I’d made.

I needed a new approach. A strategy that accounted for their differences instead of ignoring them.

And I needed it before Natalia or Isabelle started thinking they could do my job better than I could.

Because that was the real danger here. Not that they’d fail. But that they’d succeed without me.

That they’d realize they didn’t need Satori Nakano at all.

I pulled out my datapad. Started making notes. Observations about each pair. What went wrong. Why it went wrong. How to fix it.

Jacob needed simple, direct commands. No jargon. No technical specifications. Just “left” or “right” or “duck.” Raphael needed someone who could match his aggression. Who wouldn’t flinch when he got frustrated.

They’d been a terrible pairing. My fault. I’d put them together thinking the contrast would force them to adapt. Instead, it had just amplified their worst tendencies.

Akari and Isabelle. Two alphas. Both used to being in charge. Both convinced they knew best. Putting them together was asking for a fight.

But maybe that was useful. Maybe I could channel that competitive energy. Make them race to prove who was better. Use their mutual disdain as motivation instead of letting it tear them apart.

Jaime and Juan. The enthusiast and the slacker. Another terrible pairing. Jaime needed structure. Direction. Someone who could harness his energy and point it at a target. Juan needed someone who would force him to engage. To care.

Neither of them could provide what the other needed.

Hikari and Soomin. The cheerleader and the wallflower. Hikari meant well. But her loud encouragement just made Soomin more anxious. More self-conscious.

Soomin needed patience. Quiet confidence. Someone who would let her work at her own pace instead of shouting at her to go faster.

Marco and Malachi. The only success story. Because they already trusted each other. Already understood each other’s rhythms. They didn’t need to learn how to communicate. They already knew.

That was the key. Trust.

Everything came back to trust.

Jacob couldn’t trust Raphael not to explode at him. Akari couldn’t trust Isabelle to respect her methods. Jaime couldn’t trust Juan to stay awake. Soomin couldn’t trust herself, let alone Hikari.

And none of them really trusted me yet.

Why would they? I’d shown up out of nowhere. Taken a leadership role I hadn’t earned. Put them through a brutal exercise that exposed their weaknesses in front of everyone.

I hadn’t built trust. I’d demanded obedience.

And that wasn’t going to work. Not here. Not with these people.

I looked at Natalia again. She was laughing at something Emi said.

She trusted Noah. Trusted Emi. They’d built something in that one exercise that I hadn’t built with any of them.

Because they’d worked together. Supported each other. Celebrated each other’s success.

I’d just pointed out everyone’s failures.

Fuck.

I really was a terrible teacher.