My Scumbag System - Chapter 238

Chapter 238: The Antennas of Genius
Professor Albright’s holographic image vanished with a soft electronic hum. Plunged the common room into blessed silence.

My brain felt like someone had used it as a punching bag. Then put it through a blender. Then decided to microwave what was left for good measure. The throbbing behind my eyes matched the rhythm of my heartbeat. A steady, painful reminder of the academic crucifixion we’d just endured.

Three fucking hours of Metaphysical Quantum Theory.

I massaged my temples. Surveyed the devastation around me.

The room resembled the aftermath of some strange academic massacre. Datapads lay scattered across tables like fallen soldiers. Abandoned in the wake of intellectual annihilation. Half-empty energy drinks stood as tombstones marking where motivation had gone to die.

Raphael sat with his jaw clenched so tight I could practically hear his teeth cracking beneath the pressure. His eyes had that thousand-yard stare. Like someone who’d just watched their will to live disintegrate in real time. A vein pulsed dangerously in his forehead. His fingers twitched against his thigh. Like he was throttling an imaginary Professor Albright.

He’d spent the entire lecture growing progressively more murderous. Like each equation added another victim to his mental hit list.

“I’m going to fucking murder whoever invented quantum physics,” he muttered. Voice a low rumble of promised violence.

Jaime stared vacantly at the ceiling. His normally vibrant expression replaced with vacant stupor. A thin line of drool connected his mouth to his shirt. Glistened in the artificial lighting like some sad, pathetic silver thread of surrender.

His usual hurricane of energy had been downgraded to a light breeze at best. A remarkable transformation for someone who typically couldn’t sit still for more than thirty seconds.

Every few seconds, he’d mutter “Sakura would understand this” before lapsing back into catatonia. Invoking his idol like a prayer to an uncaring god.

Akari had transformed the couch into her personal fainting couch. One arm dramatically draped across her forehead in a pose worthy of a classical painting titled “The Death of Academic Aspiration.”

“I’m intellectually deceased,” she announced to no one in particular. Voice carried the theatrical despair of a diva on her deathbed. “Tell my sister she can have my makeup collection. But not the limited edition stuff. Bury that with me. In fact, apply it to my corpse. I refuse to enter the afterlife without my contour on point.”

Her twin, Hikari, merely grunted from her position on the floor. Lay spread-eagle. Stared at the ceiling with blank expression. Her soul had temporarily vacated its mortal vessel.

Juan had beaten all of us to the punch. He’d never even bothered to wake up. His snores had provided a rhythmic backbeat to Professor Albright’s lecture throughout the entire session. Occasionally punctuated by a mumbled “troublesome” whenever the professor called on him.

It was a testament to his genius that he could answer questions correctly while being completely unconscious.

He now lay curled in an armchair like a lazy cat. His face was peaceful in a way that made me want to draw obscene images on it.

The only survivors seemed to be Isabelle, Noah, and, surprisingly, Emi.

Isabelle’s notes were a masterpiece of academic perfection. Color-coded with at least five different highlighters. Perfectly aligned with ruler-straight margins. Tiny annotations in what appeared to be three different languages.

She looked completely unfazed. Like three hours of quantum metaphysics was her idea of light bedtime reading. There wasn’t a single hair out of place in her wine-red locks. Not a crease in her immaculately pressed uniform.

“The professor’s explanation of trans-dimensional particle decay was rather simplified,” she commented to no one in particular. Voice carried the mild disappointment of a connoisseur served boxed wine.

But it was Emi who caught my attention.

Rather than looking intellectually traumatized like the rest of us degenerates, she was actually smiling. A small, thoughtful expression lit up her face as she tapped her finger against her datapad. Her sapphire-blue hair caught the light as she tilted her head. Those two distinctive strands stuck up like antennae. Bobbed with each movement.

There was an earnest curiosity in her reddish-brown eyes that seemed almost offensive after the brain-melting lecture we’d just endured.

“That was fascinating!” she said. Voice bright with genuine enthusiasm. “The way Aspect energy interacts with quantum foam is like a whole new dimension of healing theory! I wonder if I could calibrate my Aura of Respite to account for localized quantum fluctuations and increase its efficiency by at least twenty percent.”

She stopped mid-sentence. Finally noticed the collection of dead-eyed zombies staring at her with varying degrees of disbelief and disgust. Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly under our collective glare. But didn’t extinguish. A testament to her irrepressible nature.

“What?” she asked. Looked genuinely confused. “Didn’t you guys find it interesting? It’s like, directly applicable to all our Aspects!”

“Spoken like someone whose brain isn’t currently leaking out their ears,” Raphael growled.

The others began to shuffle toward their rooms. Moved with all the grace of reanimated corpses. Raphael muttered something about setting his textbook on fire as a sacrificial offering. Hikari physically carried a still-drooling Jaime toward the stairs. Hoisted him over her shoulder like a sack of particularly muscular potatoes.

As I gathered my own things, crumpled notes covered in doodles of Professor Albright meeting various gruesome ends rather than actual quantum theory, Emi approached me.

She clutched her datapad against her chest. Her expression hovered somewhere between hopeful and hesitant. Like a puppy not quite sure if it’s about to be petted or scolded.

The oversized NVA sweater she wore made her look even smaller. More vulnerable. Its sleeves hung past her fingertips.

“Satori-kun?” Her voice had that soft, questioning lilt. Somehow always made her sound like she was asking permission just to exist in the same space as me. “I know it’s late, but you said we could train again tonight? If you’re not too tired, of course! I totally understand if you want to reschedule. It’s just that I’ve been practicing that defensive stance you showed me and I think I’ve almost got it right and…”

She caught herself mid-ramble. Cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she ducked her head slightly. “Sorry. I’m babbling again.”

She practically vibrated with eagerness. Bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. The motion did interesting things to her curves beneath that oversized sweater. Curves that my eyes automatically tracked before I forced them back to her face.

My brain sent up an immediate protest. Fired warning flares behind my eyes. It felt like scrambled eggs served on a bed of broken glass. Every muscle in my body was still screaming from Braxton’s morning torture session.

The image of that chain-smoking bastard’s smirking face as he’d put us through “light calisthenics” made my calves throb in remembered agony. Fifty burpees followed by a five-mile run.

The last thing I wanted was to play sensei to Little Miss Sunshine while my body contemplated going on strike.

But I looked at her earnest, hopeful face. Did the mental calculation.

This was an investment.

The System had made it abundantly clear that Emi was a high-yield asset. The next piece to add to my growing collection. Her healing capabilities alone made her worth cultivating. A dedicated healer could be the difference between life and death in high-rank Gates.

Add in the fact that she was Natalia’s best friend. The strategic value practically doubled. This was a two-for-one deal. Secure Emi, strengthen my hold on Natalia.

And it had absolutely nothing to do with the way her eyes lit up when she smiled.

Nothing at all.

The Liar’s brooch warmed up immediately.

“A promise is a promise,” I said. “Let’s head to the basement. The heavy bag should be free by now.”

Her entire face brightened. Like I’d just offered her the moon instead of basic combat training. Her excitement was almost comical in its intensity. Those ridiculous antenna-like strands of hair seemed to perk up along with her mood.

“Great! I’ll grab my water bottle and meet you down there!”