My Scumbag System-Chapter 324: Argent Sentinels Have Rules; Onyx Hounds Have Cookies

Chapter 324: Argent Sentinels Have Rules; Onyx Hounds Have Cookies

The Argent pin felt strange in Celeste’s palm.

It was heavier than it looked. Silver and aegis blue, polished to a mirror shine, the stylized eagle catching the light from the window. She had worn it every day since her acceptance into the program. It had been her entire identity. Her purpose. Her cage.

She set it on the desk, next to the datapad where she had typed her final message.

To Julian: I hope the fake glory keeps you warm at night. It cost you everything else.

Not eloquent. Not poetic. But honest.

That was more than Julian deserved.

"Ready?" Noah appeared in the doorway, a box balanced on each hip. Monica stood behind her, clutching her own small bag of belongings, still pale but no longer crying.

Celeste looked around the room one last time. The pristine sheets. The empty walls. The sterile perfection of a life she had never chosen.

"Yes," she said. "I think I am."

The walk through the Argent dormitory felt longer than it should have.

The remaining Sentinels watched them go. Some with envy, jealous of anyone who had found an escape from the poisoned atmosphere that had settled over the guild since the dungeon. Some with judgment, convinced that leaving made them traitors or cowards. Most of them with nothing at all, blank faces hiding whatever they truly felt.

No one spoke to them. No one wished them well.

We were never a team, Celeste realized. We were just a collection of rivals forced into the same uniform. The moment one of us stumbled, the others would step over the body.

The main entrance loomed ahead. Freedom was just a few steps away.

"Going somewhere?"

Julian Valerius stood in their path.

He looked terrible. His golden hair was unwashed, hanging limp around a face that had aged a decade in three days. His uniform was wrinkled. His sapphire eyes, usually bright with arrogant confidence, were bloodshot and wild.

But his sneer was the same as always. Some things never changed.

"Julian," Celeste said evenly. "I’d say it’s good to see you, but I was raised not to lie."

He ignored her completely. His gaze locked onto Monica like a predator finding wounded prey.

"Good riddance," he said, and his voice dripped with contempt. "You should have been a proper shield. If you’d done your job correctly, maybe my teammates wouldn’t be dead."

Monica made a small, wounded sound. Her hands tightened on her bag until her knuckles went white.

Noah moved instantly. One moment she was beside Celeste, the next she had stepped in front of Monica, her hand resting on the hilt of the combat knife at her hip.

"Say that again," Noah said softly. "Please. I’ve been wanting an excuse."

Julian’s sneer faltered, but only for a moment. "You think I’m afraid of a glorified babysitter? You’re nothing. All of you are nothing! Just dead weight I’m finally free of."

"Julian."

Celeste’s voice was quiet. Calm. The same tone her sister used when addressing subordinates who had disappointed her.

He turned to look at her, and she saw it in his eyes. The fear he was trying so desperately to hide. The knowledge that his perfect world was crumbling around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"You really are a small asshole, aren’t you?"

The words hit him like a physical blow. His face contorted, rage and shame warring for dominance.

"You ungrateful—"

"Thank you, Julian." Celeste smiled, and it was the coldest expression she had ever worn. "You taught me something very valuable. You showed me exactly what kind of leader I never want to become."

She walked past him without another glance.

Noah followed, keeping her body between Monica and Julian until they were through the door.

Monica hesitated for just a moment. She looked at Julian, at the boy who had been their leader, their golden prince, their symbol of everything the Argent Sentinels were supposed to represent.

"I used to admire you," she said quietly. "I thought you were everything a Hunter should be."

Julian’s mouth twisted. "I don’t care what you—"

"Now I know what you are." Monica’s voice was still soft, but something had hardened in her eyes. Something that hadn’t been there before. "And I’m going to spend the rest of my life becoming the kind of person who would never, ever be like you."

She turned and walked away.

Julian Valerius stood alone in the empty hallway of his guild, surrounded by the echoes of his own voice and the silence of everyone who had already left.

Onyx House was loud.

That was the first thing Celeste noticed as they approached. Music blared from somewhere inside, some kind of pre-Rupture rock that she didn’t recognize. Voices overlapped in animated conversation. Someone was laughing, the sound bright and unrestrained in a way that had never been permitted in the Argent dormitories.

The building itself was... modest. Compared to the gleaming spires of the Sentinel complex, it looked almost shabby. The paint was faded in places. The windows needed cleaning. A sign above the door proclaimed "ONYX HOUNDS" in letters that had clearly been hand-painted by someone with more enthusiasm than skill.

It was imperfect. Messy. Alive.

Celeste’s heart gave an unexpected flutter.

The door swung open before they could knock, and a girl with sapphire-blue hair nearly collided with them, a tray of cookies balanced precariously in her hands.

"You made it!" Emi Aoyama’s face split into a grin so genuine that it hurt to look at. "We were waiting for you! I baked cookies, but Raphael already ate like half of them, so I had to make more, and then Marco tried to help and almost burned down the kitchen, so now Isabelle is supervising, and—"

She paused, seeming to realize she had been talking for thirty seconds without breathing.

"Sorry! I’m Emi Aoyama. I’m the healer. I talk a lot when I’m excited. Come in, come in!"