My Scumbag System No Chapter 281: Playtime is Over, Cannon Fodder

Chapter 281: Playti is Over, Cannon Fodder

The ferry horn blasted, signaling boarding ti. The sound was loud enough to make Emi jump and send a flock of seabirds screaming into the pre-dawn sky. The Sentinels moved as one unit, filing onto the ferry like they were marching into battle rather than just crossing a stretch of water.

Julian shot

a look of pure hatred as he passed, his lip curling in that particular sneer that only the truly privileged could master. I gave him a cheerful middle finger in response. His jaw tightened, but he kept walking. Good boy. Save it for the monsters.

Aaron Sanders—Julian’s walking wall of muscle—lingered for a mont, cracking his knuckles in what was clearly ant to be an intimidating display. I yawned in his face. He turned an interesting shade of red before following his master onto the ferry.

Once we were all aboard and the ferry pushed off from the dock, I crushed the empty can in my hand. The aluminum crumpled with a satisfying crunch, collapsing inward until it was half its original size. I tossed it into a nearby recycling bin—got to stay environntally conscious even when heading to potential death—and felt the smile slide off my face like water off oil.

The ferry’s interior was industrial and utilitarian, all bolted-down benches and reinforced walls. The Sentinels had claid the forward section, naturally, leaving us the rear. The engines rumbled beneath our feet, and through the grimy windows I could see the dock receding, the shore lights shrinking to pinpricks.

"Alright," I said, my voice cutting through the chatter. "Playti is over. Listen up."

The change in my tone grabbed their attention. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even Skylar pulled down her headphones, one eyebrow raised.

"This isn’t a field trip. This isn’t a classroom exercise. This is a C-Rank Blue Gate. People die in C-Ranks all the ti. Professional Hunters with years of experience and actual gear. We have none of that."

I let that sink in. Watched it land. Emi’s eyes went wide, her hair’s antenna strands drooping slightly. Soomin’s knuckles were white around her gauntlets. Even Raphael had stopped pacing, his aggression giving way to sothing more serious.

Good. Fear kept people alert.

"From this mont on, we operate as a unit. No heroics, no showing off, no trying to impress your crush." I glanced aningfully at Raphael, who had the decency to look away. "We go in together, we kill everything that moves, and we co out together. Anyone who breaks formation gets left behind."

"Left behind?" Emi’s voice was small.

"Left behind," I confird. "I’m not losing half the team to save one idiot who thought they could solo a monster."

The ferry ride was rcifully short—forty minutes across choppy water that had Emi clutching her stomach and Jacob looking distinctly green. We transferred to a heavily armored VHC transport bus that slled like soone had died in it, been resurrected, then died again. The seats were hard plastic, the suspension was shot, and every pothole sent a shock up through my spine.

The windows were reinforced sh, giving us glimpses of the landscape as we pulled away from the harbor. The city fell away quickly, replaced by industrial zones, then farmland, then dense forest. The sky was starting to lighten, gray dawn creeping over the mountains like spilled paint.

Isabelle made her way to the front of the bus, standing beside

in the aisle. Her feet were planted wide for balance, one hand gripping the overhead rail. The way she positioned herself wasn’t submissive or subordinate—it was a statent. We were co-commanders now. Two alphas agreeing to hunt together. Her wine-red eyes t mine with perfect understanding.

"Everyone, eyes here," she said, her voice carrying the natural authority of soone born to rule. She projected a formation map onto the wall of the bus using a handheld device. The blue holographic display flickered slightly with each bump in the road, but the formation was clear enough. "This is how we survive."

I pointed to the front of the formation, two icons highlighted in aggressive red. "The vanguard. Our battering ram. Raphael and Hikari."

Raphael straightened up, his chest puffing out like a rooster sensing dawn.

Hikari grinned, her perpetual smile sohow looking predatory now. "Yes! Smashing ti!"

"You two are the anvil," I continued, keeping my voice level. "If it moves, break it. If it doesn’t move, break it anyway. Your job is to create chaos and draw attention. Every monster looking at you is a monster not looking at our squishies."

"I’m going to pulverize everything!" Hikari bounced in her seat, already too hyper for 5:30 in the morning. Her dark green eyes were practically glowing. "It’s going to be so aweso! Bam! Wham! Pow!"

Isabelle’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly. She continued without missing a beat.

"Mid-guard," she said, pointing to the center of the formation. "Satori, myself, and Natalia. We control the flow of the fight. Natalia will use her telekinesis to manipulate the battlefield—creating chokepoints, deflecting projectiles, isolating priority targets. I will handle precision strikes with my spear. Satori will burn anything that gets through."

Natalia nodded, her purple eyes serious. No flirty smiles now. No playful touches. She understood the stakes. The Cryo-Lich Ring on her finger caught the light, the pale-blue gemstone pulsing faintly with cold energy.

"Rear guard," I said, pointing to the back of the formation. Two icons glowing soft green. "Emi and Juan. Emi, you stay behind Juan at all tis. Your only job is to keep us alive. No heroics, no jumping in to help. If soone dies because they got stupid, that’s on them, not you."

Emi swallowed hard, her throat moving visibly. But she nodded, her reddish-brown eyes hardening. "I’ll keep everyone standing."

I fixed my gaze on Juan, who was already nodding off again, his head lolling against the window. "Wake up, genius. Your brain is our radar. If we get ambushed from behind, it’s your fault."

Juan opened one eye. "No pressure or anything."

"Roar position," Isabelle continued. "Skylar. You have no fixed position in the formation. Your job is to find gaps, create confusion, and eliminate priority targets."

Skylar twirled one of her knives between her fingers, the blade catching the light in a hypnotic pattern. Her gradient purple eyes held a lazy satisfaction. "So I get to do whatever I want. Sweet."

"Within tactical paraters," Isabelle clarified.

Skylar’s smirk widened. "Sure. ’Tactical.’"

"And finally, our scout," I said, looking at Soomin, who shrank back in her seat like she wanted to lt into the upholstery. "Soomin, you’re our early warning system. If the fox slls sothing, we stop. No questions asked. No exceptions."

Soomin nodded nervously, her pink hair bobbing. Her hands were trembling slightly around her gauntlets. "I-I’ll do my best, Satori-san."

"Your best is all I need."