Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine Chapter 166 166: Comfortable Confusion

Earth Two, tro City

Scott stood still as Maxwell looped the silk tie around his collar as his father's fingers deftly secured the knot with the ease of a man who had done this a thousand tis before. But Scott wasn't focused on the tie — no, his attention was locked on sothing else entirely.

Maxwell was staring at him.

But not in the way Scott had grown used to — not with that cold, calculating scrutiny, nor with the weight of disapproval that had long since carved itself into the deepest parts of his soul. No. This was different.

There was sothing else in his eyes.

Sothing Scott had never been given the privilege to see.

Love.

Even if this was an alternate Earth, an alternate Maxwell McQueen, it was still the first ti Scott had ever experienced this side of his father.

He had never even thought it existed.

Maxwell let out a small hum of approval as he tightened the knot, his grip firm, yet oddly careful — as if he was putting the finishing touch on sothing important. Then, without warning, he reached up, cupped the back of Scott's head, and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched.

Scott stiffened, unprepared for the intensity behind his father's eyes. Maxwell's voice was smooth, quiet, yet brimming with so much power.

"Super Scott."

He let the words roll off his tongue like he was testing them, weighing them.

"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. A stroke of genius, really."

Scott blinked, caught off guard.

"A persona like that…"

Maxwell continued, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

"… it's the road to greatness. The perfect way to strong-arm organizations that might think of challenging us. A ans to throw off the current balance of power. It's strategic, it's effective… but, boy…"

His lips curled into a sharp smirk.

"I can't say you're going about it the smart way."

Scott swallowed.

Maxwell pulled back slightly, his hands still on either side of Scott's head, fingers pressing into his scalp as if engraving his next words into his very being.

"All McQueen n have ego. It's what has made us n who can conquer the world."

He released Scott's head but didn't step away. Instead, he smoothed down the front of his son's suit jacket before eting his gaze once more, eyes burning with sothing far more dangerous than re pride—expectation.

"But what truly makes n like us dangerous…"

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Maxwell spoke with a lowered voice.

"… is the fact that we can control our ego. We don't let it consu us. We use it. We wield it. As a ans to grow into sothing that normal n cannot even dream of comprehending."

Scott didn't know what to say.

He didn't know what to feel.

This was the first ti Maxwell had ever wanted sothing from him. The first ti his father had ever placed any kind of expectation on him.

And as strange as it was…

It was comforting.

His throat felt dry, but for so reason, he found himself nodding.

Maxwell leaned back slightly and took a step away to get a better look at his son. A pleased nod. Approval. Then, without warning, he reached out and patted Scott's cheek—not hard, not dismissive, but with the sa kind of finality a craftsman might use when stepping back from a masterpiece.

"I raised you to be the man that conquers tomorrow!"

Maxwell had great amusent in his eyes.

"So sleeping around as many tis as you read a new topic inspired by a Greek philosopher?"

His smirk widened.

"Simply won't cut it."

Scott opened his mouth to protest, but Maxwell was already turning, already making his way toward the door. Just before he stepped out, he shot Scott one last look—this one carrying a serious edge.

"Don't lose perspective, boy."

And then he was gone.

The mont the door clicked shut, Scott exhaled sharply.

What the hell was this?

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle. "This is crazy…"

It made sense, he supposed.

The Many Worlds Theory was real, after all.

But even knowing that, he just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was experiencing it in real-ti.

"… Woah."

For a second, there was an urge—a real, strong urge—to smile.

But Scott didn't trust the universe enough to make his case any more confusing than it already was.

And then—Riiiiing!

Scott snapped his head toward the sound. His eyes landed on a phone sitting on the nearby desk.

He moved before he could think, striding over and snatching it up.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end nearly made his heart stop.

"Co to our family house imdiately, dumbass. I've been waiting for you for pretty friggin' long, y'know…"

Scott's entire body froze.

The phone slipped from his grasp and landed on the floor with a hollow thud.

His breath hitched.

His hands were shaking.

His throat felt tight.

『Scottie…』

A voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Hello? Hello?! Scott, are you there──?!"

He barely registered the frantic voice on the other end. His body remained frozen in place as his mind struggled to process the sheer impossibility of what had just happened.

But then—

"I'm coming."

His voice was low, not even a whisper.

Before another second could pass, he reached up, yanked the knotted tie from his collar, and—

VWOOOSH!

The blue technophage surged over his body in an instant, the sleek, high-tech material shifting and expanding until the Anti-Disaster Suit had fully enveloped him. His white cape flared behind him, crackling with electric-blue energy.

And then—BOOM!

A streak of light tore through the window as Scott launched into the sky, cutting through the air at near-unreal speeds. His HUD flickered to life, scanning the city beneath him.

Sothing about it felt… off.

"Everything feels the sa, but at the sa ti, it actually kinda doesn't…"

Scott muttered as his eyes narrowed.

"I can't exactly tell why…"

His gaze lifted to the sky. Gloomy. Drained.

"For a world where I'm apparently living my best life, it kinda sucks that it feels so sad and lifeless."

His lips twisted into a half-smirk.

"tro City. The Place of Heroes… but it kinda feels like teor City instead. Unless—"

His eyes darkened.

"Maybe those two switched roles?"

That… would make sense.

He pushed forward, faster, faster, until he arrived at his family house.

The suit retracted in an instant.

The blue technophage dissolved into him like liquid tal washing away.

Scott stretched his arms out, exhaling deeply.

"So, in this world…"

His fingers curled slightly.

"Mom's probably normal too, huh? Which ans…"

His gaze softened.

"I could actually live a normal life here."

The System's voice rang in his head.

[While the host is free to do as he pleases, it would be unwise to assu the identity of this world's Scott. As Scott Pri, such interference could cause unforeseen consequences to the fabric of the multiverse.]

Scott sighed. "Well… there's that."

A small smirk crept onto his lips.

"Later, I'll go see Emma and Gwen too, kek."

He chuckled.

"Since I'm so kind of supergod here, they're probably ten tis more in love with ."

And with that, Scott stepped forward.

And entered the house.

He pushed open the door with the cool confidence of a man who'd seen everything—only to imdiately question that assumption. The mont he stepped inside, his voice ca out smooth yet uncertain.

"Scottie? Mom?"

His sharp eyes scanned the living room, the familiar furniture, the placent of the family photos—everything was exactly the sa as the ho he grew up in. The only difference? It wasn't broken down and covered in dust. The walls weren't cracked, the wooden floors weren't scratched up from old fights, and the air didn't carry the pains of old wounds.

That… unsettled him.

Scott let out a slow breath, rubbing his arm as he took in the unsettling neatness.

『It's a little nice… and uncomfortable to see the house so well maintained… but…』

The thoughts barely had ti to settle before an old ghost wrapped its hands around his throat.

He felt it—no, rembered it.

The sharp, searing grip around his neck, nails digging into his skin, the sheer rage in his mother's eyes as she choked him like he was so mistake she wished never existed.

"GASP—!"

His eyes went wide and air rushed back into his lungs as he staggered. His pulse hamred in his ears. His breaths ca too fast, too sharp. He had to force himself to focus, to push down the phantom pain.

When his vision cleared, he wasn't even in the hallway anymore. His feet had moved on their own—he was already upstairs.

"Scottie? You there?!"

"Oh good, you're here~ ❤️"

Scott's body tensed at the sound of that soft, feminine voice that almost sounded… erotic.

His head snapped in the direction of the voice, and when he saw her, he felt the first genuine bit of relief since arriving in this confusing version of his life.

"Scottie!"

A smile broke across his face, pure instinct.

It had been years since he last saw her—since he last heard her voice. But before he could say anything else, she was already walking toward him, hands in her pockets, a slow, knowing smirk on her lips.

"Took you long enough. You always love making wait, don't you?"

Scott blinked. Huh?

Before he could piece it together—

She kissed him.

No—she devoured him.

Scott's entire body went rigid as Scottie's lips crashed onto his own as her wet tongue slid into his mouth with a heat that sent every single nerve in his body screaming.

It wasn't just a kiss. It was deep. It was raw. It was—

"──?!"

Scott jerked back, shoving her away like he'd just been electrocuted. His breath ca short, his face frozen in absolute horror.

"Wh—, What the hell are you doing──?!"

Scottie just smiled, slow and seductive, licking her lips like she relished the taste.

"Co on~"

She purred with her honey-sweet voice.

"You don't have to act like such a virgin. You always said you love the taste of my tongue, rember? And Maxwell isn't here, so… we can have fun."

Scott felt his stomach drop straight to the floor.

"Ma-, Maxwell? You an Maxwell… right?"

Scottie's expression didn't change, but sothing flickered in her eyes—sothing off.

She laughed.

"Oh please. I'm just the adopted bastard Maxwell picked up and treated like shit."

Scott's blood ran ice cold.

Scottie peeled off her jacket with ease, tossing it aside as she smirked up at him.

"Co on, I've been waiting all day to get a piece of you~"

"This… this isn't right at all—!"

Scott took a step back, but Scottie was already closing the distance, sliding her hands up his shirt with an eager moan.

"God, you sll so good… ❤️" she whispered.

Nope. Nope nope nope—

Scott grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away as his voice ca out sharper, more desperate.

"SCOTTIE—! I'm not doing this!"

Scottie stopped.

She blinked, then took a step back, brows furrowing.

"…Huh?"

Her voice lost its teasing edge.

There was genuine confusion on her beautiful face.

"What do you an? We've been sleeping together for so long, so what's wrong now?"

Scott exhaled hard, rubbing his face.

"I'm not who you think I am."

The room went silent.

Then, before Scott could even register what was happening—

Scottie's hands shot up to his neck.

Her fingers desperately searched his skin as her crazy eyes widened in panic.

"Your birthmark…"

She tightened her grip on his neck.

"Where is it—?! Where's your Dravek mark?!"

Scott froze.

"Uh… what birthmark?"

Scottie staggered back.

"Where is it?!"

Now, she was shouting like a mad woman.

"The mark that bastard Maxwell always used to call the Dravek Crest—where is it?!"

Scott didn't have an answer for her.

But his System did.

[Host, in this world, you're not simply Scott McQueen. You are Mael — the Dravek born with the spirit of Kamik in his genes. This version of you is a conqueror, a ruler, and one of his inheritances is the Multiversal Transporter—a piece of Dravek technology that allows one to travel between alternate Earths.]

Scott's entire brain crashed.

"You're fucking kidding ."

Scottie wasn't listening anymore.

She was furious. She grabbed her bag, stuffing her things inside with sharp, angry movents.

"That bastard…"

She spat.

"He must've used the damn Multiporter."

Scott was still reeling.

"Oh… that…"

Scottie stord past him, slinging her worn-out bag over her shoulder.

"I can't believe I ever trusted that bastard!"

She hissed, shaking her head.

"I really thought it would work this ti—but nope, because of how 'special' he always thinks he is, I'm left feeling like an idiot. Fucker. FUCKER!!"

Scott caught her wrist.

"Scottie—wait. Can we talk for a second?"

Her shoulders tensed.

"What's really going on?" His voice softened. "Please."

Scottie let out a long, slow exhale.

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable.

"This world and yours are just… parallel realities. Sa history, sa universe, rewritten with a darker edge. In your world, maybe you're so kind of hero. Maybe people even recognize you as Mael the Savior."

She took a step closer.

"But in this world?"

Scottie's voice dropped.

"Here… Mael—best feared as Super Scott—is no savior."

Her eyes locked onto his.

"He's a dictator. A conqueror. A god among n."

Scott's throat went dry.

"What?"

Scottie's lips curled.

"And one thing I do know? Your kinder, gentler little world that idolizes heroes?"

She let out a dark chuckle.

"It's about to get a very rude awakening."

Scott felt the weight of the entire universe — his entire universe — drop onto his shoulders.

"… Eh?"