My Scumbag System-Chapter 404: Playing for the Cameras

"Moving on," Sterling said, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "Satori, you’ve become something of a phenomenon. Three point seven million followers. Fan art. Merchandise. There are people selling shirts with your face on them that say ’The Stray Dog Bites Back.’ How does that feel?"

"Surreal," I admitted. "Six months ago, nobody knew my name. Now I can’t walk through a train station without someone asking for a photo."

"And you’re handling it well?"

"I’m handling it."

"Your social media presence has been interesting. Very minimal posting, very strategic engagement. Who’s managing your accounts?"

"I am. With some help from friends who actually understand how the internet works."

Sterling laughed. "Fair. And speaking of friends, let’s talk about your guild. The Onyx Hounds went from dead last to first place in the rankings in less than two months. That’s unprecedented."

"We work hard."

"You also have an unusual roster. Isabelle Okoye, who rejected every elite guild to join you. The Miyamoto twins, who are already being scouted by professional guilds. Pan Soomin, whose performance in the entrance exams was described by evaluators as ’terrifying.’ And now Celeste Vance, who transferred from the Argent Sentinels specifically to join your team."

He let that sit.

The audience murmured.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "I’m charming."

Cel’s voice cut through the laughter, sharp and clear. "The Onyx Hounds value individual strength over pedigree. We are not interested in maintaining traditions for tradition’s sake. We are interested in winning."

"And you’re doing that," Sterling agreed. "But it’s made you enemies. Julian Valerius has been very vocal about his opinions regarding your guild."

"Julian has a lot of opinions," I said.

Sterling leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. "There’s a tournament coming up in five weeks. Inter-guild competition. The Argent Sentinels have dominated that event for seven consecutive years. Do you think the Onyx Hounds can break their streak?"

"Yes."

Sterling’s eyebrows rose. "That’s a bold claim."

"I don’t make claims I can’t back up."

Cel shifted beside me, and when she spoke, her voice carried the weight of someone born into power. "The Sentinels believe their success is destiny. They believe bloodlines and breeding determine outcomes. We will prove them wrong."

Sterling looked between us, and I could see him connecting dots in real time.

"Let’s talk about something serious for a moment," Sterling said, his tone shifting. "Both incidents you’ve been involved in have resulted in VHC investigations. Both times, the official explanation has been natural phenomena. Do you believe that?"

Dangerous territory.

I met his eyes. "I believe the VHC knows more than I do. They’re the experts. If they say it was natural, then it was natural."

"But?"

"But," I continued, my voice dropping slightly, "I also believe in patterns. And the pattern suggests that someone either wants me dead or wants to see what I can do under pressure."

The audience went quiet.

Sterling nodded slowly. "That’s a disturbing thought."

"It’s a disturbing world."

"And yet you keep volunteering for Gate duty."

"What else am I supposed to do? Hide in my dorm room and hope the bad things go away?"

"Some people would."

"I’m not some people."

Cel spoke then, her voice soft but carrying across the studio. "Satori does not run from danger. He runs toward it. Sometimes foolishly."

"Hey!"

"It is true. You charged a fire elemental with a baseball bat."

"The bat was enchanted."

"It was not."

"It was durable."

"That does not make it enchanted."

The audience loved watching us bicker.

Sterling let it play out for a few seconds before cutting in. "You two have an easy rapport. It’s rare to see that kind of chemistry between teammates, especially ones who’ve only known each other for a few months."

"Trauma bonding is very efficient," I said.

"Is that all it is? Trauma bonding?"

I glanced at Cel.

She looked back at me.

The studio held its breath.

"No," I said finally. "It’s not all it is."

The crowd went absolutely insane.

Sterling’s grin threatened to split his face. "Care to elaborate?"

"I mean..." I trailed off deliberately, glancing at Celeste again like I was checking for permission. Her periwinkle eyes met mine, wide with something that looked like barely restrained panic. "Give you what, exactly? A confession? On live television? In front of millions of people?"

The audience ate that up—nervous laughter rippling through the rows.

Sterling leaned forward like a shark sensing blood. "Give us something. You can’t drop a line like ’it’s not all trauma bonding’ and then just sit there."

I ran a hand through my hair, buying time. Making it look reluctant. "Alright. Fine." I turned to face Celeste more directly. The cameras zoomed in—I could feel the focus shift. "Cel is important to me. She’s someone I trust, which if you knew me at all, you’d know that’s not a small thing."

"Go on," Sterling urged.

"She’s someone I’d fight for," I continued, voice steady. "Someone I’d throw myself into a Gate for without a second thought. Someone I’d die for if it came down to it." I paused, letting that sink in. "And more importantly, someone I’d livefor, which is actually harder."

The crowd made a collective noise of appreciation.

But Sterling wasn’t satisfied. "That’s beautiful. Really. But it doesn’t answer the question burning in everyone’s mind." He gestured broadly to the audience, playing conductor to their anticipation. "Is she someone you love?"

The question detonated in the space between us.

I felt Celeste’s hand tighten around mine—not gently, but with enough force that my bones creaked. A warning? A plea? Hard to tell. Her face had gone carefully blank in that way she did when she was trying very hard not to show emotion, which meant she was feeling everything.

I took a breath. Let the silence stretch just long enough to feel heavy.

"I care about her," I said finally, each word deliberate. "A lot. More than I’ve cared about most people in my life, which admittedly isn’t a high bar, but still." I squeezed her hand back, softer. "Whether that’s love or something else, whether it’s the kind of thing that gets its own category in the dictionary or needs a whole new word invented—I don’t know yet. We’re still figuring it out."

Sterling pounced on that. "But you’re figuring it out together?"

I smiled—small, genuine. "Yeah. Together. One fucked-up Gate run at a time."

The audience swooned.

Actual swooning.

Cel’s face had gone bright red, visible even through the makeup. When she spoke, her voice came out quieter than usual. "Satori is very dear to me. He is brave and foolish and infuriating. But he is also kind when he thinks no one is watching. And I value his friendship above most things."

"Friendship," Sterling repeated.

"Yes."

Sterling sat back, clearly satisfied. "Well, viewers, I think we have our answer. They’re not dating, but they’re not not dating."

"That’s not a real category," I protested.

"It is now."

The crowd cheered.

Sterling checked his notes. "Let’s shift gears. Satori, the tournament coming up is going to be brutal. Every guild wants to knock the Onyx Hounds off the top spot. Are you nervous?"