My Scumbag System Chapter 462: The Psychic Foghorn

"Those are not reassuring odds."

"Those are Divine-tier odds." Straightening himself, he smoothed the wrinkles in his ridiculous cosmic tracksuit with an air of theatrical finality.

"But I’ll tell you this, and I want you to really absorb what I’m saying here. Your current Aspect? Thermal Incision? It’s cute. It’s functional. It’s a perfectly serviceable C-Rank power playing dress-up as something more impressive. Against Reyna Cabana and that storm of hers, it’ll get you killed. Messily. Probably with a lot of screaming."

His eyes gleamed with that particular brand of manic enthusiasm that meant he was enjoying this far too much. "But evolved? Taken to its logical, reality-warping conclusion? You might actually stand a chance. A real one."

Nel’s voice cut through my thoughts like a knife.

"If I don’t use it, I lose anyway."

"Yes, I do."

I stared down at the ticket in my hand. At the ominous warning text about dimensional instability and ego death that Apollo had so helpfully included. At the swirling, reality-bending pattern on the card that seemed to shift every time I looked away and back.

At Apollo’s face, which had gone suddenly, suspiciously neutral.

"What aren’t you telling me?"

"Nothing important."

"Apollo."

"Fine." He sighed, a long-suffering sound like I’d just asked him to explain quantum physics to a particularly stupid dog. "The last person who used an Aspect Evolution Ticket? Their power jumped three full tiers overnight. E-Rank garbage to legitimate B-Rank threat in the span of a single agonizing evening. It was beautiful. Dramatic. Everything I could hope for." His smile flickered. "But the transition broke something fundamental in their metaphysical architecture. They spent six months in a medically induced coma while their body desperately tried to adapt to their new reality."

"So I could win the duel but miss the entire tournament. End up bedridden and drooling while everyone else advances and builds their reputations."

"Possibly." Apollo’s grin returned, sharp and dangerous. "Or you adapt faster. You’re not exactly standard issue, Satori Nakano. That beautifully fucked-up little soul of yours has already survived dimensional travel, a form of ego death that would shatter most mortals, and full integration with memories from a completely different timeline. Your mental architecture is already warped beyond any reasonable recognition." He gestured vaguely at my chest, at the space where my heart supposedly was. "What’s one more round of metaphysical restructuring at this point? You’re practically a professional.(  My brow furrowed. That was a fair point.)"

Fair point.

I had died once already.

Sort of.

Kaelen Leone had ceased to exist the moment his consciousness violently merged with Satori Nakano’s body. And I was what crawled out of that metaphysical car crash, stitched together from two contradictory sets of memories and a will to survive that bordered on spite. If my soul could survive that kind of existential blender treatment, it could probably handle an Aspect evolution without completely shattering into cosmic dust.

Probably.

"I’m keeping it," I said.

Nel said, and I could actually feel her relief through the bond.

"But I’m not using it yet. Not until I see what Reyna’s really capable of. Not until I know exactly what I’m countering."

Apollo’s smile returned in full force.

"Smart boy. Save the metaphysical nuke for when you actually need it." He began to fade, his form dissolving into golden motes of light. "Enjoy your new abilities. They should make the duel considerably more entertaining. For me, anyway. The Audience is going to lose their collective minds."

"Wait."

He paused mid-dissolution.

"The banner. How much longer is it active?"

"Seventy-two hours from the moment it went live. But after that first pull?" He winked, and somehow the gesture was visible even through his half-transparent face. "I’d say you’ve had enough luck for one morning. Don’t get greedy."

Then he was gone.

The golden light faded from the room, taking the oppressive weight of divine attention with it.

I was alone in the pre-dawn darkness with my new abilities and the growing, gnawing certainty that I’d just made either the best decision of my life or the absolute worst.

Nel said dryly.

"Shut up."

"Define mild."

The answer came in the form of white-hot agony that dropped me straight to my knees like someone had cut my strings.

Information poured directly into my skull like someone had cracked open my head and shoved a fire hose into my brain. Knowledge I hadn’t earned, understanding I didn’t deserve, all of it forcing itself into the meat of my consciousness whether it fit or not.

Thermal Vision was the first to integrate, its effects rewiring my optic nerves and equipping me with the ability to perceive the world through heat signatures. I learned to track movement through solid walls by following the faint warmth radiating from living beings.

Kinetic Absorption followed, embedding itself deep within my muscle memory. This new ability showed me precisely how to convert incoming force into temporary surges of power, effectively turning an opponent's strength back upon them.

Steel Body arrived, bringing with it phantom sensations that rippled across my skin. My flesh seemed to recall, or perhaps learn, the feeling of being harder than forged iron and the sensation of momentary invulnerability.

Sovereign’s Mandate hummed throughout my entire nervous system, akin to a live wire. It connected me to five distinct points I could now sense even from my current location. Natalia was somewhere on the floors below, likely already awake and filled with worry. Skylar remained in her room, probably occupied with smoking and contemplation. Emi was in the kitchen, as it was expected she would be already preparing breakfast. Celeste and Akari were perhaps huddled together somewhere, meticulously plotting strategies for my continued survival.

And then, there was Lightning Rod.

Lightning Rod felt as if I had swallowed an entire thunderstorm and was now imploring it to remain still within my chest.

My teeth vibrated with a sympathetic surge of voltage.

Every strand of my hair stood on end, reaching instinctively towards the ceiling.

Every metallic object in the room began to audibly vibrate with electromagnetic resonance. My belt buckle, the zipper on my hoodie, and the loose change scattered on my desk all joined in a synchronized, electric song.

When the installation process finally, and mercifully, concluded, I collapsed forward, landing heavily on my hands and knees.

I breathed hard, my teeth tightly clenched.

A distinct taste of copper and ozone lingered on my tongue.

Fatigue caused sweat to drip onto the floor.

"That," I managed to gasp out, "was far from mild discomfort."

A soft knock sounded at my door.

It was gentle.

Deliberate.

The unmistakable rhythm of Skylar.

"Come in," I called out.

She entered, wearing my other hoodie – the oversized grey one that thankfully lacked the distinct scent of Maki’s particular brand of chaos. Her usually neat indigo hair was slightly disheveled, and despite the early hour, her eyes conveyed sharp concern.

"Are you okay? I heard a crash."

"I'm fine. Just took a tumble."

"Liar." She approached slowly, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. She crouched directly in front of me, close enough for me to detect the scent of clove cigarettes mingled with something subtly floral. "You did something reckless again, didn't you?"

"Perhaps."

"Definitely." Her hand gently cupped my cheek, her palm cool against my feverish skin. "You pulled from the gacha, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Because you get this specific look afterward. It’s as if you’ve just pilfered something incredibly precious, and you’re uncertain whether it will lead to immense wealth or disastrously explode in your face." She tilted her head, scrutinizing me with those captivating gradient purple eyes. "What did you acquire?"

"Reyna's absolute worst nightmare."

"Good." She leaned in and pressed a quick, warm kiss to my forehead – a gesture of approval rather than affection. "Try not to die on Wednesday. I’m still quite angry with you for keeping secrets."

Then, she departed.

Taking the lingering aroma of clove cigarettes with her.

With considerable effort, I slowly pushed myself up from the floor, my muscles protesting the exertion. My legs felt as though they had been severely beaten, a likely consequence of the Kinetic Absorption integration settling into my bone marrow.

I caught my reflection in the windowpane.

The same face stared back at me.

The familiar collection of scars, not quite fully healed from the recent tournament, remained visible.

The same eyes, which had witnessed far too much for someone who was, technically, only eighteen years old.

Yet, something fundamental had shifted beneath the surface.

I could feel the new abilities humming just beneath my skin, coiled and poised, awaiting the command to be unleashed. The Sovereign’s Mandate, in particular, pulsed at the back of my mind like a secondary heartbeat, establishing a connection to the women downstairs that felt both intrusive and strangely comforting.

Abruptly, Maki leaped onto the windowsill in her cat form, a sleek shadow boasting two tails that defied all natural biology.

Her piercing golden eyes fixed on me with an unusual intensity.

"Is this a good different, or a bad different?"

She nudged her head against my arm, a loud purr rumbling from her chest, vibrating through my very bones.

"Close enough," I replied.