My Scumbag System-Chapter 399: Definitely, Utterly Screwed

Graves nodded once, sharp and military. "Medic!"

The VHC medical team descended on us like locusts. Someone wrapped thermal blankets around Cel and Monica. Another medic tried to examine my arms, took one look at the burns, and immediately started yelling for advanced burn treatment.

I sat down hard on the grass, suddenly aware that my legs had stopped working entirely.

Nel materialized a notification directly in my vision.

[LEVEL UP ACHIEVED]

[ALL ATTRIBUTES RESET TO F-0]

[TRUE VALUES HIDDEN: MULTIPLIER ACTIVE]

[NEW BASELINE ESTABLISHED]

The world tilted sideways.

Someone caught me before I hit the dirt. Cel’s face swam into focus above mine, her periwinkle eyes wide with concern.

"Satori? Stay with me. Don’t you dare pass out."

"Not passing out," I managed. "Just resting my eyes."

"That’s literally what passing out is, you idiot."

Fair point.

The VHC medic appeared with a syringe full of something glowing. "This will help with the pain."

"Will it make me high?"

"Extremely."

"Good enough."

The needle bit into my arm. Warmth spread through my veins, chasing away the worst of the burning sensation.

My vision went soft around the edges. The sky became very interesting. Had it always been that particular shade of blue? That was a really good blue.

Cel’s face hovered above mine, and I noticed for the first time that she had a tiny freckle on her left cheekbone. Cute. Weird thing to notice while potentially dying, but there it was.

"You kissed me," I said, the words coming out without permission from my brain.

Her cheeks flushed. "You kissed me back."

"Yeah. Seemed rude not to."

She laughed, the sound surprising both of us.

"You’re impossible."

"I get that a lot too."

The medic returned with a stretcher, and several people tried to load me onto it. I protested. Loudly. Using words that made Cel cover her mouth to hide a smile.

They ignored me and strapped me down anyway.

As they carried me toward the waiting medical transport, I caught Cel’s eyes one more time.

She stood there in the afternoon light, her silver-white hair catching the sun, her combat gear torn and bloody, looking absolutely destroyed.

And she was smiling.

"Don’t die on the way to the hospital," she called out. "I’ll be very annoyed if you survive the Arborist just to die from an infection."

"Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess."

Her glare promised retribution.

I grinned and let the drugs pull me under.

The infirmary smelled like antiseptic and burnt flesh. Probably my burnt flesh, which was deeply unpleasant to think about.

I woke up in a private room with soft lighting and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor that suggested I was, in fact, still alive. Progress.

My arms were wrapped in some kind of gel-infused bandages that glowed faintly blue. The burns didn’t hurt anymore, which either meant the treatment was working or I’d finally achieved that sweet, sweet nerve death.

Nel appeared the moment my eyes opened, her blue interface window hovering like an overexcited puppy.

You’re awake! Finally! Do you have any idea how boring it is watching you sleep? The Audience started making fan theories about whether you’d enter a coma and we’d need to do a whole ’searching for the protagonist’s soul’ arc.

"How long was I out?"

Six hours. Dr. Death put you under while she treated the burns. Apparently, you were being ’unnecessarily vocal’ about the pain.

I tried to sit up. My ribs immediately vetoed this decision.

Don’t move, idiot. You’re still healing. Here, let me show you the good news.

A new window materialized, displaying my updated status.

My eyes widened.

Level 3.

All my visible stats sat at F-0, exactly as expected. But beneath that surface layer, the hidden values showed my actual power.

Strength: 6,250 (hidden)

Endurance: 6,250 (hidden)

Dexterity: 6,250 (hidden)

Agility: 6,250 (hidden)

Magic: 6,250 (hidden)

The multiplier had kicked in. Again.

I’d gone from struggling with C-Rank threats to having stats that would make most B-Rank Hunters weep into their protein shakes.

And that’s not even the best part, Nel said, her voice smug. Check your titles.

I pulled up the title screen.

[NEW TITLE ACQUIRED: THE GARDENER’S BANE]

[EFFECT: +10% damage against Plant-type entities. All botanical life recognizes you as friend or liberator. Plants will naturally grow toward your presence.]

[NEW TITLE ACQUIRED: BLACK GATE SURVIVOR]

[EFFECT: +15% resistance to dimensional anomalies and psychic attacks. Mental fortitude increased when facing impossible odds.]

The rewards kept coming.

[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: VERDANT COMMAND]

[RANK: GOLD]

[EFFECT: Allows the user to communicate with and request assistance from all plant life within a 50-meter radius. Plants will respond based on their individual consciousness and the user’s relationship with them. More intelligent flora require greater persuasion.]

I stared at the description.

"I can talk to plants now."

Yes! Isn’t it wonderful? You’re like a Disney princess, except with more murder and questionable life choices!

"This is your fault."

My fault? I’m just the System interface. Blame Apollo for the gacha pulls. Or blame the First Tree for liking you. Or blame yourself for being so irresistibly charming that even ancient cosmic vegetation wants to be your friend.

The door opened, interrupting my internal argument with my cosmic parasite.

Cel walked in, looking significantly better than when I’d last seen her. She’d showered, changed into a fresh uniform, and her hair was brushed and perfect again. The white streaks had faded back to normal.

She stopped when she saw I was awake. "You’re up."

"Apparently. The drugs wore off."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I got in a fight with a bonfire and lost."

She crossed to the bedside, pulled up a chair, sat down with that perfect posture that screamed expensive etiquette training.

Then she grabbed my hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped in glowing bandages.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For not leaving me down there. For giving me the choice to stay or go."

"Don’t thank me. I’m still using you to get to your sister."

"I know." She squeezed my hand. "But you’re also the first person who’s ever asked if I wanted to be used first."

I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that level of honesty.

So I did what I always did when emotions got too real. Changed the subject.

"How’s everyone else?"

"Exhausted. Monica won’t stop talking about the plants. Jacob’s writing a fifteen-page report about dimensional variance. Noah is hovering outside your door like a guard dog." Cel’s lips twitched. "Braxton said to tell you that if you ever volunteer for another Black Gate, he’ll personally throw you into the next one himself."

"Sounds fair."

We sat in comfortable silence. Her thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand.

Nel chose that moment to be helpful.

The Bond Rank increased. She’s at Confidante now. One more rank and you unlock the second Imbuement Slot. Two more after that and she generates passive SP for you daily.

I already knew. The notification had popped up the moment Cel touched my hand.

But what Nel didn’t say, what the System carefully avoided mentioning, was that I’d just spent seven hours in hell with this girl. Watched her freeze an entire battlefield despite her exhaustion. Caught her when she fell. Let her tend to my wounds even though she could barely stand.

And somewhere in all that chaos and violence and desperate survival, something had shifted.

She wasn’t just Seraphina Vance’s sister anymore. Wasn’t just a key to unlock my father’s files.

She was Cel. The girl who punched me when I was being an idiot. Who kissed me in the ruins of a cosmic garden. Who chose to stay when running would’ve been smarter.

The realization settled in my chest like a stone.

I was absolutely screwed.

Oh no, Nel said, her voice delighted. You’re catching feelings. Actual, genuine feelings. This is amazing. The Audience is going to love this character development!

"Shut up," I muttered.

Cel’s eyebrows rose. "I didn’t say anything."

"Not you. The annoying voice in my head."

"Should I be concerned about that?"

"Probably."

She smiled, soft and genuine, and my stupid heart did something complicated in response.

Yeah.

Definitely screwed.