My Scumbag System-Chapter 379: A River That Remembers

I’ve spent my life navigating sewers and back alleys, facing down Yakuza enforcers who’d cut your throat for looking at them wrong. I’ve survived games more dangerous than most people could imagine.

But this? This was new.

The tunnel stretched ahead of us like a throat, swallowing the pale silver light. Celeste walked in front of me, her back straight and shoulders squared in that perfect posture rich kids learn from birth. Even after falling down a damn hole and nearly dying, she looked like she could walk into a royal ball without raising eyebrows.

"See anything interesting up there, Princess?" I asked, enjoying how her shoulders tensed at the nickname.

"Just more symbols," she replied without turning around. "Similar to the ones on the walls of the chamber. I don’t recognize the language."

"Probably because it’s older than our world," I muttered.

The worst part about this whole situation wasn’t the deadly flowers or the looming threat of soul possession. It was that my System connection remained busted. I couldn’t access Nel, couldn’t pull up my full status screen, and definitely couldn’t use the Gacha to bail us out of trouble. I was stuck with whatever abilities I’d already unlocked.

"Do you hear that?" Celeste stopped suddenly, and I almost crashed into her.

I listened. At first, nothing. Then...water. The distant sound of flowing water echoed from somewhere ahead.

"Could be our way out," I said. "Or another trap."

"Or both."

I grinned at her. "Now you’re thinking like a proper scumbag."

She rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile. "I’ll take that as an insult, thank you."

The tunnel began to slope downward, and the sound of water grew louder. The air turned damp, with a faint earthy smell that reminded me of rain-soaked concrete.

"We should be careful," Celeste said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The Arborist seems to use water as a central element in this place. The spring, the lake..."

"And now an underground river?" I finished her thought. "Yeah, there’s a pattern."

Something about this place tickled the back of my brain—a half-remembered fragment from Kaelen’s life. Something about gardens and water...

"In traditional Japanese gardens," I found myself saying, "water represents the journey of life. The source, the flow, the return to the sea."

Celeste gave me a curious look. "I didn’t know you were interested in garden philosophy."

"I’m not," I said quickly. "Just something I read once."

We reached a wider chamber where the tunnel opened up. A river cut through the center, flowing fast enough to hear but slow enough to cross. The water glowed with the same silvery light as the knife, illuminating the entire space.

On the far side stood an archway carved with more symbols.

"That looks like our exit," I said.

Celeste knelt by the water’s edge, frowning. "This isn’t natural. Look how it glows."

"Nothing in this place is natural."

She focused on the water. "I could freeze a path across."

I shook my head. "Save your energy. We don’t know what’s ahead." I tested the depth with my bat. "It’s shallow. We can wade across."

"And if it’s poisonous?"

"Then we die horribly, and the Arborist picks someone else for its next meat puppet."

Celeste sighed. "Your optimism is truly inspirational."

"One of my many charms."

I stepped into the water first. It came up to my knees, cold but not unbearable. The glow increased where I disturbed the surface, like stirring bioluminescent plankton.

"Seems safe enough," I called back. "Just don’t drink it."

Celeste followed, her face tightening as the cold water soaked through her uniform pants. I tried not to notice how the fabric clung to her legs.

Halfway across, something shifted beneath my feet. I froze.

"Satori?" Celeste tensed behind me. "What’s wrong?"

"Don’t move."

The riverbed was moving. Not settling or shifting—actually moving, like it was breathing.

"We’re standing on something alive," I whispered.

The water began to bubble around us, the glow intensifying to an almost painful brightness. I grabbed Celeste’s wrist. "Run!"

We splashed toward the far bank as the river erupted behind us. Water sprayed in all directions as something massive rose from the depths. I pushed Celeste ahead of me, spinning around to face whatever was coming.

A head emerged—if you could call it that. A bulbous, translucent sac filled with that same glowing liquid, pulsing with veins or roots that spread throughout its mass. Below it stretched a serpentine body covered in overlapping scales that looked like leaves.

"What is that thing?" Celeste gasped, her hands already frosting with her Aspect.

"The river guardian," I said, widening my stance. "Another one of the Arborist’s pets."

The creature let out a sound between a hiss and the rustling of leaves. Its body coiled in the water, blocking our path forward and back.

"Ideas?" Celeste asked, ice crystals forming around her fingers.

I weighed our options. The thing was massive, maybe thirty feet long. My bat would barely tickle it. Ember might work on something this wet, but the chamber was too small—we’d cook ourselves.

"You freeze, I’ll heat," I said. "Thermal shock should shatter it."

Celeste nodded, understanding immediately. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she thrust her hands forward. The air temperature plummeted, and frost raced across the water’s surface toward the creature.

I activated Ember, channeling heat through my palms. The air shimmered as waves of heat poured from my hands.

The creature screeched as ice crackled up its lower body while I blasted its head with heat. The temperature difference did exactly what I’d hoped—its translucent skin began to crack like glass.

But it wasn’t going down without a fight.

Its tail whipped through the water, sending a wave crashing into us. I lost my footing and went under, swallowing a mouthful of the glowing liquid before I could stop myself. It tasted like...memories. Not a flavor, but flashes of places I’d never seen, people I’d never met, all rushing through my mind in an instant.

I broke the surface, coughing and disoriented. Celeste had managed to stay upright, and was now launching spears of ice at the creature’s head.

The water I’d swallowed burned in my stomach. Not painfully, but with a strange energy that spread through my limbs. And suddenly, I could feel Nel again, faintly.

"System?" I tried calling mentally.

A burst of static, then: "...interference...connection weak...use the water..."

The creature lunged at Celeste, its maw opening to reveal rows of crystalline teeth. She dodged, but lost her balance on the slippery riverbed.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I plunged forward, the water slowing my movements as I channeled Ember through my bat. The weapon glowed red-hot in my grip, steam hissing off the metal where it met the river.

"Satori, wait!" Celeste called behind me.

Too late for caution. The creature’s maw gaped wide, crystalline teeth gleaming as it lunged for Celeste.

I swung with everything I had, but changed tactics mid-strike. Instead of the bat, I thrust my free hand forward, fingers spread.

"Sever!"

The air between us rippled as invisible force slashed across the creature’s bulbous head. The cut appeared like a delayed reaction—a perfect line that split its translucent flesh. Before it could regenerate, I brought the heated bat down in a crushing overhead swing.

The superheated metal met the severed flesh, and the creature’s head burst apart in an explosion of steam and glittering shards. Its body thrashed wildly, whipping back and forth as it died, before finally collapsing back into the river with a massive splash.

The glow faded from the water, leaving us in near darkness until only the faint light from the archway remained.

Celeste stared at me, water dripping from her silver-white hair. "That was...impressive."

"Don’t sound so surprised," I said, trying to hide how shaken I felt. My powers had never worked that well before. The water had done something to me.

We dragged ourselves onto the far bank, both soaking wet and shivering. Celeste used her Aspect to draw the moisture from our clothes, a neat trick that left us merely damp instead of dripping.

"You drank some of the water," she said. It wasn’t a question.

"Accidentally."

"And?"

I hesitated. "It showed me things. Places. People." I decided not to mention the System reconnection. That was my ace, and I wasn’t ready to reveal it yet. "Like memories that aren’t mine."

"The memories of the plants?" Celeste suggested. "Monica said they’re all connected through something called the Great Root."

"Maybe." I wasn’t convinced. The flashes I’d seen weren’t plant memories. They were human. Or at least, something like human.

We approached the archway cautiously. The symbols carved into it glowed faintly, reacting to our presence.

"What do you think is on the other side?" Celeste asked.

"Either our way out or something worse than what we just killed," I replied honestly.

She glanced back at the dark river. "We can’t go back."

"No, we can’t."

Celeste squared her shoulders again, that regal bearing returning. "Then forward it is."

I caught her arm before she could step through. "Hey. If this goes bad..."

Her eyes met mine, surprisingly gentle. "What is it?"

What was I doing? I didn’t do the whole "heartfelt moment before potential death" thing. That was for heroes in movies, not scumbags like me who manipulated everyone around them.

But something about nearly dying with this girl made the words come out anyway.

"You’re not what I expected," I said finally. "Seraphina Vance’s little sister. I thought you’d be..."

"A spoiled brat?" She raised an eyebrow. "Or a cold-hearted political animal?"

"Both, honestly."

She smiled. "I’m sorry to disappoint."

"You didn’t," I said quickly. Too quickly. "That’s the point. You’re... I don’t know. Real."

Her cheeks colored slightly. "Was that a compliment, Satori Nakano?"

"Don’t let it go to your head, Princess. I’m just saying you don’t completely suck."

She laughed, a sound so genuine it startled me. "High praise indeed."