My Scumbag System - Chapter 252

Chapter 252: My Queen Makes Her Move on a Different Chessboard
Nearby, Juan dozed against a life preserver with his mouth slightly open and completely unconcerned with the world around him. How someone could sleep through Jaime and Hikari’s enthusiastic shouting was beyond me, though Juan had elevated laziness to an art form.

The irony that he possessed one of the most tactically versatile Aspects in our class wasn’t lost on anyone who bothered paying attention.

Across the deck, Braxton leaned against the opposite railing with a steaming travel mug that smelled more like bourbon than coffee. His perpetually disheveled appearance seemed to fit the landscape of the open sea, wild and untamed and vaguely threatening despite its beauty.

Carmen lounged beside him with her face hidden behind oversized sunglasses that screamed hangover, and her usual crisp white shirt was wrinkled and untucked.

When she caught me looking, she gave me a small conspiratorial wink that made me wonder exactly what she thought she knew about me.

As the mainland’s skyline began to materialize on the horizon with its jagged silhouette of steel and glass emerging from the haze, Braxton pushed himself off the railing with a grunt and shuffled to the center of the deck.

“Alright, puppies,” Braxton called out while his voice carried despite its lazy drawl. “We land in thirty. The district we’re going to is called the Forge Quarter, and it’s a maze of workshops and armories catering to everyone from rank amateur to S-class Hunter.”

He took a swig from his mug and continued while scratching the stubble on his jawline idly. “Don’t get lost. Don’t get arrested. And for the love of God, don’t start a gang war.”

“That happened once,” Carmen added helpfully from behind her sunglasses while pushing off from the railing and sauntering toward the group. Her movements had the forced steadiness of someone trying very hard to appear sober. “The Crimson Fang recruits got into it with some Obsidian Shield alumni. Three city blocks destroyed, seventeen civilian injuries, and about two million in property damage.”

“They were still admitted to the guilds afterward,” Juan noted from where he’d appeared at the railing while looking like he’d just woken up. His hair stuck up at odd angles and the imprint of the life preserver’s texture was still visible on his cheek.

Braxton ignored them both and scratched his side lazily. “You’re splitting into three groups. I don’t care how you do it, just figure it out.” He gestured vaguely at Carmen. “I will be at a casino. Don’t call me unless someone is actively on fire.”

“What if they’re actively bleeding out?” Raphael asked.

“That’s what Emi’s for,” Braxton replied before turning and ambling toward the lower deck.

There was a moment of awkward silence as we all looked at each other. The deck suddenly felt like a chessboard with pieces moving into position.

This was the first real social test since our week of hellish training, and who would group with whom would reveal everything.

The alliances and factions within our dysfunctional little family would become clear in how we organized ourselves.

Isabelle took the initiative because of course she did. She stood with perfect posture while her wine-red hair caught the light as she brushed an imaginary speck from her impeccable clothing.

“It would be most logical to form groups with complementary objectives,” she announced. “I require a weapon that emphasizes finesse and control. It seems reasonable that those with similar needs would group together.”

Her gaze settled on Akari, who was examining her perfect manicure with feigned disinterest while her long black hair flowed over her shoulder like a silk curtain. Akari’s tan skin and emerald eyes formed a striking contrast that drew attention without her having to make any effort, which was probably intentional knowing her.

Isabelle’s stare then moved to Hikari, Akari’s twin sister in blood but opposite in basically every other way, and finally to Noah. The girl’s rigid military posture and alert eyes marked her as much as her perpetually worn male uniform, and I still hadn’t figured out what her deal was with that.

I expected Natalia to gravitate toward me since we’d been practically inseparable all week, both in training and during our nighttime activities. But she surprised me by stepping forward and aligning herself with Isabelle’s forming group instead.

Well. That was interesting.

“I agree,” Natalia said coolly while her purple hair caught the light as she tilted her chin upward in that aristocratic way she had.

“My needs are similar. I’ll join this group.”

Her purple eyes met mine for just a moment and gave me a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. I understood immediately.

She was letting me cook.

Natalia was deliberately giving me space to work my own angles with the others while she networked with the most powerful women in our class. The thought was surprisingly hot, and I had to suppress a grin. The girl who’d once despised me was now my willing co-conspirator, executing moves in our shared strategy without needing explicit direction. My little conquest was growing into a partner in crime, and I couldn’t help but admire how naturally she’d taken to her role.

The remaining groups formed naturally and quickly. Raphael, Jaime, and Marco instantly clustered together in what could only be described as the Brawler’s Club, a walking advertisement for protein supplements and testosterone. Raphael’s perpetual scowl contrasted sharply with Marco’s sunny grin and Jaime’s exuberant posturing, though they shared a love of direct physical solutions to problems.

Malachi drifted silently to their periphery like a shadow to their boisterous energy, his dark eyes watchful and assessing. Where they were loud, he was silent. Where they were visible, he was a ghost. But for reasons I still hadn’t fully unraveled, he’d formed a bond with Marco that seemed unbreakable.

Jacob got pulled into their group after Marco insisted they needed a brain for their operation, slinging a muscular arm around the skinny conspiracy theorist’s shoulders with such force that Jacob’s glasses nearly flew off his face.

“Come on, brain trust! You can tell us which shops have the good stuff they don’t want regulars to see!” Marco’s enthusiasm was infectious enough that even Jacob managed a nervous smile.

That left me with the misfits of the misfits. Emi, the sweet-hearted healer with newfound archery skills. Soomin, the shy powerhouse with her fox alter-ego. Skylar, whose permanent scowl and gothic aesthetic masked a razor-sharp mind. And Juan, who looked like he was still half-asleep and deeply regretting his decision to leave his bed that morning.

Could be worse. At least this group was manageable.