Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine - Chapter 137

Chapter 137: Perverted Errors
Mantis Tower, Metro City

Scott McQueen stood between Zoe Kingston and Vincent Lakewood with the kind of blank expression that didn’t scream confused—no, it whispered something far worse.

It was the type of face that made people instinctively assume you were plotting something sinister. His brows were relaxed, lips resting in a neutral line, and his eyes were just… empty.

No squint, no shift, no flicker of emotion.

And that’s what made it uncomfortable.

Zoe kept darting quick glances at him and her thin brows slightly furrowed, as if expecting him to suddenly pull out a hidden blade or declare some master plan.

Conversely, Vincent had that overly smug grin plastered on his face—but even he couldn’t stop his gaze from twitching toward Scott every few seconds, as if expecting… something.

But the truth?

Scott wasn’t planning anything.

Not even close.

『… What the hell are these people even doing here?』

That was the grand thought looping in his head like a broken record.

No master scheme. No hidden agenda. Just confusion.

He gave Zoe a slow, lazy side-eye as his mind raced in the dumbest way possible.

『So, according to the System, the woman next to me is actually “Rope Girl.”』

His eyes flicked to her casual posture, how comfortably she leaned into the conversation like they were old friends—which, spoiler alert: they were not.

『The fact that she’s so chill talking to me on our first meeting means she either knows or suspects I’m Nightwatch… but that doesn’t exactly make sense.』

He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes just a fraction.

『Rope Girl isn’t the type to attend these stuck-up rich people parties. So for her to be here means she was already sure I’d show up. But… I only decided to come here a few hours ago.』

His blank stare sharpened slightly, like a blade being drawn halfway out of its sheath.

『Which means… she’s been stalking me.』

His eye twitched.

『Yeah. That’s the only answer.』

And with that life-altering conclusion reached, Scott finally shifted his gaze to Vincent, his expression still eerily blank as he calmly asked:

“… What do you want?”

Vincent straightened his tie with unnecessary force, clearly eager to assert whatever dominance he thought he had.

“I don’t really have any interest in speaking with you,”

Scott continued flatly.

“Oh, and as for my heart? It’s doing way better than you could ever dream of… especially now that I’m practically a celebrity.”

A smug smile crept onto Scott’s face, slow and deliberate, like it had been carved there just to piss Vincent off.

And it worked.

Vincent’s nostrils flared slightly and his jaw clenched so tight you could probably hear it grind if you listened close enough. But instead of snapping, he squeezed his fists and forced a smile—a painful one, the kind that looked like it physically hurt to maintain.

“Oho…”

He chuckled dryly, adjusting the sleeves of his overpriced suit with dramatic flair.

“I don’t plan on chatting long with you. I just wanted to make sure you understand something.”

Scott raised a brow lazily, clearly unimpressed.

Vincent leaned in slightly as his smile sharpened.

“I don’t appreciate the way you’re staining the image of my client, The Peak.”

His voice dropped into a lower, more ‘threatening’ tone—which, to Scott, sounded more like a toddler trying to sound scary.

“If you want some peace, I suggest you take your leave now. That way, I won’t have to exercise my powers on a poor, church rat.”

Scott blinked.

Then he chuckled—a short, sharp breath of amusement as he took a full gulp of his punch and drained the glass in one go. He slammed it onto the table behind him with a moderate thunk before turning back to Vincent as he licked a stray drop from the corner of his mouth.

“And what if I say I don’t want to leave?”

Vincent’s grin wavered slightly.

Scott leaned in with a smooth and venomous voice.

“In fact, I’d prefer to stay. You know… so Bella doesn’t have to endure the infectious stupidity of your golden boy.”

The smugness drained from Vincent’s face faster than wine spilling from a shattered glass. But he recovered quickly, forcing another stiff laugh, shaking his head like Scott had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

“You know…”

Vincent spoke with forced casualness.

“I’m quite the celebrity in this business. It’d be… very easy to expose you.”

Scott’s smile faded slightly—not because he was worried, but because he was bored.

“Oh, you know, just a little something…”

Vincent continued with mock innocence.

“Like, say… that shitty mother you’ve been hiding away in an asylum somewhere?”

Zoe’s eyes snapped to Vincent.

『Did he… just say that?』

Her face twisted into pure disgust.

Vincent leaned back, clearly enjoying himself now.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to see how well the media eats that story up? I wonder what it’d do to your ‘rising’ career as a model.”

He chuckled darkly.

“Fun, right?”

Silence.

Zoe’s face soured even more.

『Disgusting… he’d really go that far?』

She shot Scott a quick glance, waiting for his reaction.

But Scott didn’t react.

No flash of rage. No flicker of sadness.

Just… nothing.

His face was blank and his eyes emptied as he stared directly into Vincent’s smug little soul.

Then, with a slow blink, he spoke.

“So, let me get this straight…”

It was quite a soft voice.

“You want me to stop causing trouble for golden boy and leave Bella Trevors alone?”

Vincent didn’t reply.

He just smirked, like he thought he’d won.

Scott took a step forward.

And for reasons Vincent couldn’t explain, his body reacted before his brain could catch up—he took two steps back.

A short, instinctive retreat.

A moment of weakness.

Scott’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He didn’t need to yell. He didn’t need to threaten.

His words came out low, calm, and ice-cold.

“… I won’t.”

His brows sank, casting shadows over his sharp eyes.

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

“Don’t ever. Threaten me. Again.”

Vincent’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard as his mind scrambled for a comeback—but nothing came.

Scott didn’t break eye contact. Not once.

Vincent finally managed to turn around with frozen feet as he walked away—or rather, fled—on trembling legs.

Zoe watched him go, then looked back at Scott.

“Terrifying…”

She adjusted her oval-shaped glasses.

Scott blinked, then shrugged lazily.

“… Nah.”

He grabbed another glass of punch.

“I just really hate pretentious guys in expensive suits.”

Right after, Scott scooped himself a fresh cup of punch when he felt a feminine, sweet-scented presence slide even closer to him.

It was the black-haired beauty. Zoe Kingston.

She leaned in—too close, too deliberately—until her breath was practically whispering against his ear.

“So…”

She had such a sexy voice.

A temptingly sexy voice that would make any man beg for the opportunity to be spoken to like that.

Scott was halfway through raising the cup to his lips when he noticed it.

The way she tilted her head ever so slightly.

The way her lips curled into the faintest, wilful smirk.

And most importantly… the way her posture just happened to shift, her chest pressing forward in a manner that sent her cleavage spilling ever so generously into view. They looked like two big, oiled pieces of meat packaged closely together and waiting for someone to dive in and munch.

It was subtle.

It was calculated.

And it was undeniably tantalizing.

Scott paused mid-sip.

His frosted, blue eyes flicked down for half a second—just a flicker, just an instinctive glance—before narrowing right back at her face.

He exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

“So what?”

His voice was calm. Flat. Unshaken.

Zoe lifted a delicate brow and her smirk deepened.

If someone had been watching them from a distance, they would have sworn they were lovers. Or at the very least, two people caught in a flirtatious exchange charged with tension.

Her smile? It was the kind of smile that could make men crawl on their knees. The kind that whispered promises of danger and pleasure in the same breath.

But Scott?

Scott saw right through it.

He took a lazy sip of his drink.

Then, ever so subtly, he let his gaze dip again.

A stolen second.

Zoe chuckled. Soft, silky, and victorious.

“Oop~”

She tapped a single finger against his shoulder with that featherlight and playful touch of hers.

“I caught staring… young man~”

Scott didn’t react. Didn’t shift. Didn’t blink.

But internally? He clicked his tongue.

『Damn it…』

Then, almost as if testing something, Zoe applied just a little more pressure to his shoulder.

It wasn’t aggressive. It wasn’t forceful.

No.

It was coaxing.

Like a doting wife gently and sexually rubbing her husband’s shoulder after a long day—right before sliding his credit card out of his hand.

Her eyes gleamed.

“Hmm~ You’re a little too built for a ‘rising model’…”

Scott remained still, but his tensed fingers flexed subtly around his cup.

Zoe’s smirk grew.

“You haven’t even started featuring on any runways, and yet… you’re already so fit.”

Her fingers gave the faintest squeeze against his shoulder.

“It’s almost like you’re a—”

Scott sighed.

Deeply.

Like a man about to commit a great sin.

Then his hand moved.

Fast.

Before Zoe could react, before she could even process it—

His hand shot out.

… HONK! HONK!!

And grabbed her breast.

Like a bear claw clamping onto raw meat.

Her breath hitched.

────AHHHNN~ ❤️

His fingers sank deep—deeper than she expected—then mercilessly gripped her with the kind of casual, dominating force that made her entire body jolt.

It was like a wave of sexual pleasure and hunger was injected into her body through the wet, slippery hole between her legs.

She was absolutely overwhelmed.

Another of her moans that sounded like a crying child squeezed out of her cherry lips.

“Ah──❤️!”

A sharp gasp slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

“Uuuufff ❤️!”

She took a shaky step back—

But Scott? He pulled her back in.

Dragging against her breast like it was a thick rope in a tug of war battle.

Tighter. His grip hardened.

Zoe’s knees nearly buckled.

A rush of heat coiled in her stomach as her sexy, heated breath—much like dog—turned ragged.

『What the hell──?!』

Her body twisted involuntarily, caught between a reaction of protest and pleasure.

“Gahhh~”

She coughed out hot air and her chest heaved against his palm as her pupils dilated.

Her lips parted and salivated madly, but not just the ones on her face… IT was dripping.

Her teeth bit down onto her lower lip.Hard.

Like a woman who swore she didn’t want this—yet couldn’t help but respond to it.

But then—

“Tch.”

With a sharp inhale, Zoe slapped his hand away.

Quick. Fluid. Precise.

She jumped back and heels clicked against the marble floor as her fingers shot under her gown—

And in one smooth motion—

A gun was in her grasp. The cold barrel snapped upward.

Aimed straight at Scott’s head.

Her breath was unsteady. But her aim? Rock solid.

“You abhorrent filth!”

Her voice was heavy with something fierce. Fury.

Flustered embarrassment.

And something else she refused to name.

Scott blinked.

Then—

He smirked.

Took another sip of his drink.

And with zero fear, zero hesitation, and zero shame—

His eyes flicked right back to her chest.

Then back up.

He slowly and calmly licked a stray drop of punch from the corner of his mouth.

Scott’s smirk deepened. Then, he chuckled again.

“Haaah… you’re definitely sweaty down there right now, aren’t you?”

Zoe’s fingers tensed around the grip of her gun.

Scott didn’t stop.

He took another slow sip of his punch, savoring the moment before tilting his head slightly.

“That gun of yours… if you handed it over, I bet I could sell it for a fortune.”

Zoe’s brow twitched.

His eyes flicked down ever so briefly, then back up, cool and completely unfazed.

“A pretty lady like you…? I’m sure plenty of guys would pay top dollar to get their hands on a weapon covered in your warm, thigh sweat.”

Zoe’s jaw clenched.

Her face twisted into a disgusted, furious snarl.

Her finger curled tighter around the trigger.

Just a little more pressure.

Just a little more, and she’d blow this bastard’s brains out.

Scott met her glare without an ounce of fear.

The intensity in her expression. The sheer, seething rage.

It was beautiful.

“You…”

She spat as her breath trembled between her teeth.

“You abhorrent filth!”

Scott raised a brow.

“How dare you assault a lady like that?”

Zoe hissed.

“Are you an animal? Don’t you care about your public image?! You’re a celebrity fo—”

She didn’t even get to finish.

Scott lazily swirled the punch in his glass before taking another small sip.

Then, in the same calm, flat tone—

“And so?”

Zoe’s breath hitched.

Scott exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.

“You should be grateful all I did was grope your tits. If it were really up to me…”

His gaze turned just a shade darker.

“I’d have you spread across this table…”

His voice dropped.

“And show you just how fit I really am.”

Zoe’s pupils trembled.

Something cracked.

Her hands—her grip—her entire body tensed in an instant.

Then, the world around her vanished.

Everything.

The glittering chandeliers, the luxurious hall, the murmurs of the crowd—

Gone.

In their place──Flames. Screams. Blood.

She saw it all again.

Gunfire.

Children being slaughtered.

Men being beaten to death.

Women… being defiled by the enemy. Dragged to the ground and stripped of their clothes all to satisfy the sexual needs of these men as though they were just meat toilets.

And after they’d finished with them—

They’d killed them too.

Her heartbeat thundered. Loud. Loud. Too loud.

It felt wrong.

Like her heart was too big for her chest.

Like her ribs were caving in.

Scott’s voice—his words—

『I’d have you spread across this table…』

『… and show you just how fit I really am.』

Her breathing stuttered. Her vision blurred.

SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!!

“SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!!”

Her scream tore through the hall.

Her finger pressed down. She was about to pull the trigger.

Then──Grab!

Three guards seized her from behind.

Zoe barely processed it.

Her arms locked in place.

Her body jerked as they pulled her back.

“Ma’am…”

One of them said firmly.

“We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

Zoe’s eyes were shaking.

The guard continued, his tone stern but controlled.

“Guns aren’t allowed at this function—especially when they’re pointed at a fellow honored guest.”

Zoe’s lips trembled.

“But he—he’s a… he sa…”

She stopped. She couldn’t finish.

Her throat clenched. Her mind was blank.

The guards didn’t wait for her to recover.

They started escorting her out.

The crowd watched. Stared. Whispered.

Their expressions twisted with disgust.

She could hear them.

“A woman like that, bringing a gun to a party?”

“Disgraceful.”

“Absolutely classless.”

“She looked completely out of it… like she wasn’t even there anymore.”

Zoe’s footsteps slowed.

Her body… it didn’t feel like hers anymore.

Her vision…

It felt like she was watching herself from afar.

Detached. Distant.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

The guards led her through the exit.

And then──she was gone.

･･･

Scott stood still.

His eyes, for the first time that night, held something absolutely unreadable.

He exhaled slowly.

Then, he glanced down at his hand.

The same hand that had grabbed her.

No.

There was no way.

He had only done it to get her off his back.

To distract her.

That was all.

Right?

A dry lump formed in his throat.

He stared at his fingers, flexing them once.

Then—

“System.”

A mechanical chime echoed in his mind.

[Yes, Host?]

“Rope Girl. Real name: Zoe Kingston.”

A pause.

“Does she have any history of… sexual assault? Or knowing someone who was?”

The System loaded for a moment.

Then—

[The Pulman Secret Operation of 2031.]

[There is a deep connection between Zoe Kingston and the events of this classified military operation.]

[This includes instances of sexual assault. While there is no confirmed report of her being a direct victim, there is high probability that she and her team were targeted—though the attempt was ultimately unsuccessful.]

[Regardless, psychological trauma remains.]

Scott didn’t breathe. He just stared.

At his hand. At nothing.

And then, in a voice that barely left his lips—

“… I screwed up.”

His throat felt dry. His eyes felt heavy. He swallowed.

But it didn’t help.

Because deep down──a part of him knew.

He hadn’t just screwed up. He had fucked up.