My Scumbag System - Chapter 237

Chapter 237: The Most Dangerous Question in the Academy
Akari examined her perfectly manicured nails with exaggerated attention. Her disinterest was clearly performative. She didn’t even bother looking up as she asked, “Is it true that Gate Remnants can sell for millions on the private market? And what exactly is the finder’s fee percentage for the Hunter who discovers one? Asking for a friend.”

Her casual tone couldn’t quite mask the mercenary gleam in her eyes.

“Depends on the Remnant,” Braxton answered. Scratched his ear. “I’ve seen a minor one sell for enough to buy a decent apartment in the Central District. I’ve also seen one go for enough to buy a small island with a private airstrip and staff to run it.”

He smirked. A knowing expression crept across his face. “As for finder’s fees, that depends on how greedy your Guild is. How good your lawyer is. And how willing you are to mysteriously disappear if you push too hard for your fair share.”

The questions continued in rapid succession. Revealed as much about the students as they did about Gates.

Marco asked about team tactics. Specifically how to protect support members during an evacuation. Noah inquired about survival rates.

Hikari wanted to know if you could punch a Gate to make it close faster.

You could not, Miller confirmed with surprising patience.

Skylar wondered if Gates ever manifested with musical or rhythmic properties. That query earned her a thoughtful nod from Miller. He admitted there’d been reports of audio phenomena. Particularly in Black Gates.

Malachi whispered something about darkness inside Gates. Marco had to repeat it louder. Prompted a discussion on visibility and light sources.

I remained silent throughout. Listened. Absorbed.

Each question and answer revealed something about both the Gates themselves and Miller as a person. He wasn’t merely the lazy, apathetic drunk he pretended to be. Or rather, he was that. But he was also something else beneath the facade.

A survivor. Someone who’d seen the worst this world had to offer and lived to make jokes about it. To reduce cosmic horror into manageable anecdotes.

When the flow of questions began to ebb, I raised my hand.

The room quieted noticeably. Perhaps surprised I was participating after my prolonged silence. Several heads turned my way. Including Natalia’s. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She knew me well enough now to recognize when I was fishing for specific information.

“Miller-sensei,” I said. Used the honorific deliberately. Watched his reaction. “The official VHC doctrine states that Aspects are a one-time genetic lottery triggered in childhood. Is there any credible research on Gate-induced manifestations in adults? Even unofficial or suppressed work? On acquiring power instead of being born with it?”

The room went silent. The atmosphere shifted from general curiosity to something more uneasy.

Braxton’s gaze locked onto mine. Suddenly sharp and analytical. All pretense of laziness gone in an instant. For a moment, I glimpsed the A-Rank Hunter beneath the disheveled exterior. The man who’d survived things that would break most people.

“That’s a good way to get yourself killed, kid,” he said finally. His tone was carefully neutral. But his eyes were intensely focused on my face. Like he was searching for something. “The people who go looking for that particular answer end up as a red smear on the inside of a Gate or as a VHC lab specimen.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. Almost imperceptibly. “It’s a suicidal fantasy. Stick to the power you were given and learn to use it better.”

His answer was structured as a warning. But also served as an implicit confirmation that the theory existed beyond mere rumors.

People had tried.

But had they all failed? Or were the successes hushed up? Hidden away from public knowledge?

Either possibility was significant.

Natalia was watching me from across the room. Those purple eyes calculated. Analyzed. She alone knew what I was really asking. She alone understood what my question might truly mean for someone like me.

Braxton clapped his hands together loudly. Broke the tension that had descended. “Alright, that’s enough talk about how to die horribly for one evening. Time for the other part of your education that you’ll probably hate just as much. If not more.”

He instructed everyone to pull out their datapads.

I retrieved mine from my pocket. The sleek black device hummed to life at my touch. Its screen cast a blue glow across my face.

“NVA isn’t just a combat school, contrary to what some of you meatheads might think,” Braxton continued. Glanced pointedly at Raphael. “You’re still expected to get a university-level education to go with all that punching and exploding. Most of your core academic classes will be handled via remote lectures with professors from the main campus. History of the Rupture. Metaphysical Economics. Valorian Law. All that thrilling stuff.”

A collective groan rose from the room like a prayer to some deity of academic suffering.

Raphael muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “bullshit waste of time.” His fists clenched at his sides.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Braxton said. Raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just the guy who makes sure you don’t die before graduation. What you learn about the Treaty of New Geneva or metaphysical quantum theory is between you and the poor schmucks who have to grade your papers.”

Our datapads synced automatically with a soft chime. Screens flickered as they connected to the NVA network.

A stern-looking woman in a tweed jacket appeared on the display. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a severe bun that looked tight enough to give her a constant headache. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on her aquiline nose. Magnified eyes that seemed to stare directly at each of us simultaneously.

“Good evening, students,” she said crisply. Her voice carried that particular tone of academic authority that brooked no argument. “I am Professor Albright, Chair of Theoretical Aspect Studies at Valorian National University. Welcome to Introduction to Aspect Theory. If you would please open your textbooks to page one, we shall begin post haste.”