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My Scumbag System-Chapter 329: Congratulations on Your Promotion to Middle Management
Monica stared at my hand like it might explode. The tears spilled over, running down her cheeks. She reached out with trembling fingers and took it.
Her grip was weak. But it was there.
Natalia watched from behind me. I could feel her gaze on my back, analyzing, assessing. She saw what I was doing. Collecting another stray. Adding another piece to my collection.
She didn’t protest.
Smart girl.
I wrote Monica’s name on the board and stepped back to survey Team Alpha.
Six members. Control focus. High adaptability.
One telekinetic powerhouse with S-Rank potential and zero chill.
One healer who could keep us alive through anything short of decapitation.
One information specialist with future-sight processing.
One shadow operative who thrived in chaos.
One botanical controller who needed to be rebuilt from the ground up.
And me.
The scumbag king with a baseball bat and too many problems.
It would do.
"Team Beta." I moved to the second column. "This squad needs someone who can lead without hand-holding. Someone with tactical awareness and the combat capability to back it up."
I looked at Isabelle.
She met my gaze with those crimson eyes, her expression unreadable beneath that mask of noble detachment. The abdicated queen of the misfit court, slumming it with the rejects.
"You’re the only other person here I trust to run a raid without getting distracted by shiny objects."
Her lips quirked. Just barely. "Quite the compliment."
"It’s the truth."
ISABELLE OKOYE
She rose from her chair with the grace of a monarch accepting a crown she never wanted. Her wine-red hair caught the light as she moved to stand beside me, surveying the remaining candidates.
"Recommendations?"
"I was getting there."
I turned to the twins.
Akari lounged on the couch in her silk pajamas, one leg crossed over the other, her tan skin and emerald eyes practically glowing under the room’s light. Hikari sat beside her, still in her athletic wear, her shorter hair pulled back messily.
"Hikari. You’re on Team Beta."
The smiling berserker pumped her fist. "Yes! Time to smash things!"
"Please don’t say it like that."
"SMASH THINGS!" She launched off the couch and struck a pose. "Bōm Ba Yé! The spirit of battle flows through me! My muscles sing with anticipation!"
"Your sister is staying here."
Hikari paused mid-pose. "What? But we’re a team! The unbreakable sisters! The twin terrors! The..."
"You’re also each other’s biggest weakness." I crossed my arms. "If Akari’s in danger, you lose your head. If you’re in danger, she loses focus. Separate, you’re both effective combatants. Together, you’re a liability waiting to happen."
Hikari’s smile dimmed. Just slightly.
Akari stretched languidly on the couch. "He’s not wrong, sis. We do get a little... intense."
"But..."
"Think of it as a challenge!" Akari winked at her twin. "Whoever kills more monsters this week gets the good shower time."
Hikari’s competitive fire rekindled immediately. "You’re on!"
Crisis averted.
I added her name to Team Beta’s roster, then turned to the next pick.
"Marco."
The red-haired delinquent stopped mid-bite of his protein bar. "Yeah?"
"You’re with Isabelle."
"Sweet!" He grinned at Raphael. "Sucks to be you, buddy."
Raphael’s eye twitched.
MARCO KAMINA
Marco had raw power and enthusiasm. He fought with reckless abandon that bordered on suicidal. But paired with Isabelle’s tactical mind and Hikari’s overwhelming force, he’d be channeled into something useful.
Probably.
"Malachi."
The shadow-walker materialized from the corner of the room. I hadn’t even noticed him move there.
"You synergize with Isabelle’s wind manipulation. Silent movement, coordinated strikes." I wrote his name down. "You’re her ghost."
Malachi nodded once. His violet eyes held no emotion, but something in his posture relaxed slightly.
MALACHI MOORE
Three slots filled. Three to go.
"Akari." I pointed at the gyaru princess. "Chain control. You lock them down, Isabelle cuts them apart. Synergy."
Akari examined her nails with practiced disinterest. "I suppose I can make it work."
AKARI MIYAMOTO
"And finally..."
My gaze landed on Soomin.
She sat on the floor near my chair, her pink hair spread around her like a halo. Her blue eyes flickered with something that wasn’t entirely human.
The Fox.
An S-Rank potential beast spirit sharing a body with a girl who barely understood her own power. Unstable. Dangerous. Beautiful in the way a nuclear reactor was beautiful.
"Soomin. You’re on Team Beta."
Her eyes widened. "But... the Fox wants..."
"I know what the Fox wants." I crouched down to her level. "But I can’t always be there to supervise. If something happens and the Fox wakes up when I’m not around, Isabelle is the only person here with the firepower to suppress it."
Soomin’s lower lip trembled.
"Or point it at the enemy."
The Fox’s presence flickered behind her eyes. Blue fire danced in those depths for a moment before settling.
"The Fox... accepts this arrangement." Her voice carried an undertone that wasn’t quite human. "For now."
"Good."
PAN SOOMIN
I stood and surveyed Team Beta’s roster.
Isabelle. Hikari. Marco. Malachi. Akari. Soomin.
A frontline that could bulldoze through anything. Shadow support. Chain control. And a wildcard with enough raw power to level a city block if things went sideways.
Balanced. Powerful. Professional.
The kind of team that would make the Sentinels jealous.
"That leaves Team Gamma."
I turned to the final column.
Juan was still lying on the floor, but his eyes were open now. Watching. Calculating behind that mask of apathy.
He knew what was coming.
"Juan Navarro."
"I resign."
"Denied."
He groaned dramatically. "Can I at least get a demotion? Private third class? Latrine duty?"
"You’re leading Team Gamma."
The room went quiet.
Juan sat up slowly, his green eyes narrowing. "You’re joking."
"Do I look like I’m joking?"
"You look like someone who wants to see me suffer."
"Also yes." I wrote his name at the top of the third column. "But that’s not why you’re in charge."
JUAN NAVARRO
Juan ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Enlighten me."
"You’re the smartest person in this room."
"Debatable."
"You hate effort."
"Absolutely true."
"Which means you’ll find the fastest, most laziness-preserving method to end every fight." I tapped the mushroom cloud icon. "Team Gamma is pure firepower. No finesse required. Point the warheads at the bad guys and let physics handle the rest."
Juan’s expression shifted from annoyance to grudging understanding.
"You’re giving me the easy job."
"I’m giving you the job that requires the least work and produces the highest casualties." I grinned. "Enemy casualties, ideally."
He sighed. "Fine. Who are my walking natural disasters?"
"Jaime."
The green-haired muscle wizard stopped flexing in the mirror and turned around. His eyes literally sparkled.
"A TEAM? LED BY MY SPIRITUAL BROTHER IN IRON? THIS IS THE MOMENT MY SOUL HAS BEEN PREPARING FOR!"
Juan put his head in his hands. "No."
"YES!"
JAIME DE VALLE
"Raphael."
The explosion specialist cracked his knuckles. "About time."
RAPHAEL VARGAS
"Together, you three have enough firepower to level a small building." I looked at Juan. "Your job is making sure you level the right building."
"Wonderful. Two muscle-brained idiots who communicate primarily through violence." Juan’s voice was flat as a board. "This is my personal hell."
"It gets better."
I turned to Celeste.
The ice princess sat ramrod straight in her chair, her periwinkle eyes tracking my every move. Her silver-white hair caught the light like moonbeams. The bacta patch on her cheek only made her look more elegant somehow.
"Celeste Vance. Team Gamma."
Something flickered in her expression. Disappointment, maybe. Quickly suppressed.
"I see." Her voice was perfectly controlled. "May I ask the reasoning?"
"You’re artillery." I didn’t sugarcoat it. "Your Glacial Serenade can flash-freeze an entire battlefield. That’s not a finesse weapon. That’s a bomb with a timer."
She processed this. "And you believe I would be more effective without your direct supervision?"
"I believe Juan needs firepower that doesn’t require micromanaging." I held her gaze. "You’re a professional. You don’t need hand-holding. You don’t need someone to point you at the target. You see the battlefield and you respond."
Celeste was quiet for a moment.
Then she inclined her head. "I accept."
CELESTE VANCE
"Noah."
The blonde bodyguard snapped to attention. Her blue eyes were sharp behind that professional mask.
"You stay with Celeste. Where she goes, you go."
"Of course." She glanced at Celeste, then back to me. Something complicated moved behind her expression. "And if the team leader gives orders that conflict with my primary duty?"
"Then you use your judgment." I shrugged. "You’re not just a bodyguard. You’re a combatant. Act like it."
NOAH GRAY
Team Gamma was complete.
Juan stared at his roster with the expression of a man watching his vacation plans get canceled.
A muscle wizard who communicated through flexing and inspirational speeches.
An explosion specialist with anger issues and a tragic backstory.
An ice princess with enough power to freeze a city block.
A scary bodyguard who definitely had a crush on someone in this room.
And one lazy genius who wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.
"This is a nightmare," Juan muttered.
I stepped back from the whiteboard. "You have the highest damage output and the lowest maintenance requirements. Clear Gates fast, collect loot, go home."
"And if something goes wrong?"
"Then Celeste freezes it and Noah hits it really hard until it stops moving."
Juan looked at his team.
Jaime gave him a thumbs up, his grin nearly blinding.
Raphael cracked his neck, ready for violence.
Celeste sat with perfect posture, her expression serene.
Noah stood behind her, hand resting casually on her concealed weapon.
"I’m going to die," Juan said flatly.
"Not if you’re as smart as I think you are."
The room fell silent as everyone processed the final rosters.
Team Alpha: Control and Adaptability. High risk, high reward.
Team Beta: Balance and Professional Execution. The reliable workhorse.
Team Gamma: Overwhelming Force. The nuclear option.
Three teams. Seventeen combatants. One goal.







