Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine-Chapter 203: Crossed Wires

— Overwatch Headquarters —

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly in the pristine lab.

Amidst the softly humming machines, Jake lounged in a black swivel chair with one leg lazily draped over the other, casually munching on a giant bag of chili-lime chips. He looked like he belonged at a beach resort, not in a state-of-the-art facility analyzing a god-tier sniper round.

Across from him, Scott was pacing like a caffeinated madman in a lab coat, his hands flailing mid-air as if trying to strangle the air into giving him answers.

"This bullet is actually insane! Like, insane-insane!"

Scott blurted as he held his hands out like he was trying to physically grasp its ungodly design. His goggles slid halfway down his face before he shoved them back up and darted toward the analysis table again.

"We're talking a 14.5mm caliber, core material is Depleted Uranium. Muzzle velocity? Between 1,200 to 1,500 meters per second, Jake! Energy? Somewhere in the range of 25,000 joules! That's more than double your standard .50 BMG — double, man!"

He turned to Jake with a grin that could only be described as "science-goblin." Jake stared back at him with a calm, slightly disturbed smile as he crunched into another chip, saying absolutely nothing.

Scott turned back to his equipment, then flipped through 3D models and energy dispersion data with quick flicks of his fingers.

"The design incorporates hypervelocity kinetics, advanced materials science, terminal optimization… I mean, this thing borrows elements from tank APFSDS rounds! It's like someone miniaturized a goddamn railgun cartridge! A perfect anti-materiel sniper round!"

Jake calmly licked his fingers clean before replying with a low chuckle—

"Well, duh. You've got hydrodynamic penetration, spalling, secondary fragmentation… pyrophoric and incendiary effects courtesy of the Depleted Uranium…"

He stuffed his mouth again, crunching lazily.

"Behind-armor effects too. You fire this at a politician's bulletproof Cadillac Escalade? He's getting smoked, no cap."

Scott stopped mid-flick, slowly turning toward Jake like he'd just heard him fart in church.

"That's really not funny."

Jake snorted.

"Nah, it's definitely funny. I bet you made that fish face — y'know, the one Emma says you make when she's sucking your—"

"JAAAKE!"

Scott shouted, rubbing the back of his head with a flustered laugh.

"Okay, maybe I did, but—wait."

His smile dropped.

He gave Jake a long, suspicious side-eye.

"… Wait a damn minute. How the hell do you know what face I make when Emma's sucking me off?"

Jake innocently looked away, reaching for another chip.

"Who said I did?"

"Dude, come on—"

"EMMA TOLD ME!"

Jake cried as he threw his arms in the air like he was surrendering to the Feds.

"She told me, okay?! Damn!"

Scott groaned, massaging his temples.

"I really gotta tell her to stop broadcasting our sex life like it's a morning podcast…"

Jake grinned slyly. "She also said you got a big—"

"I WILL peel you like a grape!"

Scott snapped, leveling a stern finger at him.

Jake zipped his lips shut and threw away the key.

Literally mimed the whole thing.

"Thank you…"

Scott said dryly, shaking his head.

"Now can we please focus? Trickshot's still out there, and nobody's talking about it. Not the news, not the agency. He escaped Xenon, got thrown into Ashgate thanks to Rope Girl, and now he's gone. Like he ghosted through steel and red tape, and no one said jack."

Jake wiped his cheesy fingers on his pants, walked over to the massive flat-screen across the lab, and hit the power button.

"Actually, I saw this interview on a morning show—"

Scott groaned.

"Dude, really? I don't have time for some Konrad Ka—"

"Guest star was Lymtos Kazamir Panemorfi."

Scott froze.

"… That's…"

Jake nodded. "The Chairman. Of the Hero Agency."

The room fell into silence.

Both of them were now staring at the screen like it was about to deliver the secrets of the universe.

･･･

— Morning Show Broadcast —

A warm studio glow blanketed the set.

Charles Reed, clean-cut, self-important, sat opposite the infamous, one-eyed Chairman Lymtos. The old man, elegant in his dark overcoat and black gloves, leaned on his carved, obsidian walking stick with a soft, unreadable smile.

Charles adjusted his necktie.

"To close out this lovely little chat—we're honored, of course, to have you, Chairman, what with how swamped you've been since the brutal attack on the North District…"

Lymtos nodded calmly.

The producers behind the camera began flailing. They knew what was coming. They tried to cut the segment — waving, neck-slashing motions.

Charles ignored them.

Lymtos raised a hand, silencing them with frightening ease.

Charles inhaled as his voice sharpened.

"With each passing day, the people are starting to see it — how corrupt the Hero Agency's become. Frankly, you're worse than the goddamn government."

Lymtos didn't even blink.

That same tiny, pleasant smile remained.

Charles leaned forward, slamming his palm on the desk.

"I support Nightwatch. A real hero. One your corrupt agency blacklisted for politics, not truth. You turned him into a terrorist! YOU!"

A few awkward chuckles fluttered through the crowd.

The rest was dead silence.

Lymtos tilted his head.

"I may have one eye, son, but I really don't see a question in there."

Laughter rippled. Nervous. Panicked.

Charles bristled.

"Alright, fine. Why did the Hero Agency cover up Trickshot's escape from Ashgate Penitentiary? One of the most secure facilities in the U.S., and he just vanished?! No heroes dispatched. Not even Rope Girl. The same hero who put him there. And the public? Blissfully unaware."

Now everyone was silent.

The camera didn't cut. The feed didn't end.

Lymtos rose.

Without a word.

Charles stood, pointing furiously.

"YEAH! I THOUGHT SO! WALK AWAY! WALK, YOU FUCKIN' COWARD! NIGHTWATCH IS A HERO, AND YOU — YOU'RE A CORRUPT OLD PIECE OF—!"

He flipped the Chairman off as he left.

Lymtos paused at the edge of the set.

Looked back slightly.

"… Very unfortunate."

"What?"

The Chairman only chuckled and walked away.

Charles straightened his coat, facing the camera like a martyr who just threw a brick at God.

"Well… I guess that's all we're getting from YOUR Hero Agency's Chairman. And I guess after this, I'll be working as a busboy. But I had to say it. For Nightwatch. I believe in him. We need him."

He gave a final, weary smile.

"I'm Charles Reed. Have a good morning."

Cut back to the lab

Jake clicked the remote, muting the now-black screen.

He gave a long exhale, still stunned.

"Man… who would've thought? Family man Charles Reed, out here throwing his entire career to simp for Nightwatch. Guy's a lunatic."

Scott gave him a look.

Jake raised his hands.

"What? Don't tell me you're offended? I mean, you don't even speak up for yourself."

Scott tilted his head, cracking a tiny smirk.

"Okay, fair enough…"

He took off his lab coat, folding it over his arm.

"ANYWAYS… I gotta get back to the city. I uh… gotta meet someone."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Cool. I'll come with—"

"NO—uh, no. It's fine. I got it. Really."

Scott was already halfway out the door.

Jake narrowed his eyes. "You sure everything's okay?"

Scott turned back with the fakest smile in human history.

"Yup! Totally cool. Just… casual… totally-not-secret meeting. Bye!"

He slapped the exit panel and zipped out the hallway like a man fleeing a crime scene.

Jake blinked, then slowly nodded as he stuffed more chips in his mouth.

"Huh. Strange kid."

He flopped back in his chair, looked at the bag.

"… These chips Dark Elf gave me are so fucking good."

He grabbed the remote again, grinning devilishly.

"Time for some porn."

━ ━ ━ ━

— South District, Metro City —

Scott walked along the quiet sidewalk with a tired slump in his shoulders and his phone pressed to his ear. His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes half-lidded, and his jaw tensed with fatigue.

"Huh?"

He muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"How'd that happen?"

On the other end, Gwen paced back and forth in her dorm room, phone in one hand as the other fidgeted with the hem of her tank top.

Dark Elf was seated on her bed, silently folding a set of black clothes with a composed elegance — though her eyes flicked every now and then toward Bree, who was still sprawled on Gwen's fluffy pink rug like she'd entered a shopping mall on Christmas morning.

Gwen sighed, frustrated.

"I don't even know how to tell Bree to just… you know — get out of my room."

Scott blinked. "Wait, she's still there?"

"She's been here since this morning, dude. I think she wants to live here. Like, girl, I barely know you and—this is my dorm, not a community center."

"Damn."

Gwen glanced around quickly, and when Bree finally turned her back, she lowered her voice into a whisper.

"I have a secret identity to protect, you know…"

That made Scott burst out laughing. Loud.

"BAHAHAHAHA!

Like, wheezing, on-the-street, full-bodied laughter that echoed down the sidewalk and made an old lady walking past give him a weird look.

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "What's so funny?"

Scott choked on the tail end of his laugh, clearing his throat like he'd just swallowed his pride.

"N-, Nothing. Just—heh, I mean, Gwen, you're not even a registered hero. I get that you're trying to go all vigilante like me and stuff, but it's not like the world's gonna end if people found out who you are."

There was a moment of silence.

Then—

"WHEN DID I EVER SAY I WAS TRYING TO BE A VIGILANTE LIKE YOU?!"

Scott flinched and yanked the phone away from his ear as Gwen's voice exploded through the speaker.

In her dorm, she was practically steaming like a cartoon bull, red-faced, fists clenched, and breathing heavy enough to fog the windows.

Scott gave a slow blink and rubbed his temple.

"Ahaha… ahahaha… (￣ω￣;)"

There was an almost amused smile twitching on his lips like he was used to this exact storm.

"I didn't mean it like that, alright? I'm just saying—"

"Oh, shut up! Just because I don't have some big, dedicated fanbase singing my praises or an entire Hero Agency slapping 'terrorist' next to my name doesn't mean my identity as a hero doesn't matter, okay?!"

Gwen was panting after the rant, eyes wide, hair frazzled, and cheeks flushed.

On her bed, Dark Elf quietly gave her a thumbs-up.

Scott was silent.

Of course, she'd go off like this. That was just Gwen.

He opened his mouth to say something but—

"I have to go…" Gwen cut him off, her tone softer now.

"W-wait, you're not mad, right?"

Scott asked quickly, stopping in his tracks like he could see her right there.

"… Love you," she said with a small breath.

Click.

Scott exhaled sharply, relief washing over him as he slid the phone into his pocket.

"Phew…"

By now, he'd reached the grand gates of the mansion.

The familiar sight made his shoulders sink lower.

"… Mom."

He whispered the word like it was a boss fight he wasn't ready for.

And just like that, a few minutes later, he stood in front of the massive oak doors of the mansion. He took a breath, pushed them open—and immediately—

WHAM!

A pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and legs hooked around his waist like a vice.

Scott stumbled backward in sheer panic.

"MY PRINCE, YOU'RE BACK!"

"BRIGID—?!"

Scott's eyes darted around like a cornered animal.

"What the hell are you doing here?! For fuck's sake—!"

Brigid's face dropped instantly.

Her bright green eyes turned glassy like a kicked puppy.

"D-, Does my lord not want to see me…? Did—Did I do something wrong again…?"

She sniffled as her lower lip trembled.

It was both sad and adorable.

Scott panicked harder.

"NO! No, no, no, you didn't! Of course not!"

He gripped her tighter instinctively.

She nodded slowly, almost pitifully, then gently rested her forehead against his chest.

"… Then why are you mad at me?"

Her voice was small. Fragile.

And that wasn't like Brigid at all.

She was usually loud—basically human fireworks.

Scott let out a heavy sigh, glancing away.

"I just… really didn't want you to see my—"

"Your mom?" Brigid asked sweetly.

Scott blinked. "… Huh? How'd you—"

"She told me!"

Brigid grinned, starry-eyed again.

"Mrs. McQueen is so nice! I didn't know I'd be honored enough to meet my blue-eyed prince's mom!"

Scott stared blankly. "Wait. When did she tell you that?"

"Oh, she told me and Marcus! During brunch!"

"… Marcus is back?!"

Scott groaned like the world just put another unbearable weight on his back.

"Oh great, this just got ten times harder…"

But Brigid didn't seem to hear any of that.

Her cheeks were glowing red, and for some reason, she'd gone weirdly quiet.

Scott squinted at her. "What's wrong?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head furiously like she was swatting away bees.

"Hyaah~! (๑°⌓°๑)ゞ"

Her face turned even redder.

Scott tilted his head. "Brigid…?"

She opened her eyes slightly, face steaming, and whispered shyly—

"C-, Can you squeeze me… a little harder… please…"

Scott blinked. Once. Twice. Then slowly looked down at where his hands were.

Right on her ass.

Both cheeks.

Gripped tight.

His eyes almost popped out of his skull.

"Uhh, uhm… when did thi—?"

Brigid suddenly pressed a finger to his lips, leaning in with very sexy bedroom eyes.

"Come on, Lord Nightwatch… I don't mind if you grab them like they're a pair of empty toothpaste tubes. We can do it against the wall if you want. Sure, it's my first time… I know it should be special, but the idea of being plowed by your glorious cock is… EVEN MORE SPECIAL! ❤️"

Her slender hands gripped his shirt.

"Co-, Come on~ I'll be a good girl. I promise~"

She was panting. Sweating. Basically in heat.

Scott's brain short-circuited.

His hands, against his will, squeezed tighter. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

His thoughts scrambled.

He mumbled, "No…"

But it didn't sound like he meant it.

Brigid grinned like a succubus in heat as her soft breasts mashed against his chest.

He could already feel how active her nipples were.

"I won't tell Emma~"

Then—

"Oh my…"

Scott froze.

His eyes darted toward the gentle voice.

Standing there, not too far away, was Martha.

She had an apron on, holding a spatula in one hand.

"Uhm…"

Her other hand covered her mouth before she could gasp.

"To think my son can be so…"

"IT—IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK──!!"

Scott's soul left his body.