Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine Chapter 181 181: Closing Pages, New Struggles

tro City, City Hall

The skies above tro City were heavy with grief.

The dull gray mass pressed down as if the heavens themselves mourned.

Not a hint of color brightened the streets, only black and muted whites stretching as far as the eye could see. The grand City Hall, usually a symbol of power and governance, was now a solemn monunt to those lost in the tragic events of Super Scott's brutal attack.

A sea of people gathered in the open plaza as heroes and civilians alike stood in respectful silence.

The heroes, typically clad in vibrant, eye-catching suits, had abandoned their usual attire for either proper black suits or somber gray and black variants of their costus.

Even those who couldn't be there in person — the wounded and those still rebuilding the North District — watched through the news broadcasts. Their absence was just as deeply felt as those who would never return.

To the side, a line of news vans stood like silent sentinels as they broadcasted the event to every ho, hospital bed, and recovery ward across the city.

Then, the quiet roar of an engine hit the air.

A sleek black GT-R pulled into the lot and rolled to a stop in one corner. The car barely had ti to settle before the weight of the mont inside beca heavier than the one outside.

A tired Scott sat behind the wheel in a crisp black suit and dress shirt. His usually ssy hair was combed neatly to the left, forcing him into a clean-cut look that made him seem… official. Proper. A man who belonged here.

But the truth was, he had never felt more out of place.

Beside him in the front seat, Miss rcury studied him with quiet concern as her beautiful face was marked by fading bruises and a few healing cuts. Her right arm was wrapped in a cast — an injury from the blow that had landed the first real hit on Super Scott.

It should have been a mont of triumph, but today… there was no victory to celebrate.

In the backseat, Dog Girl sat with her arms crossed as her fluffy ears twitched with irritation.

Even though she focused on support throughout the battle and had avoided any fatal injuries, heavy exhaustion had worn her down.

Marcus sat beside her, silent.

He wore the sa thing Scott did.

Jake and Gwen weren't here. Neither was Dark Elf.

Their wounds were too severe.

Unlike Jake and Gwen, who were treated in one of the many Hero Agency-funded hospitals, Dark Elf was taken to the dical bay at Overwatch Headquarters.

Scott made that call because Dark Elf had no governnt records, aning he wasn't exactly on the authorities' good side. The dical bay wasn't as advanced as the hospitals, but Scott was sure it was good enough.

At the very least, Dark Elf would be fine.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

Miss rcury turned to Scott as her eyes shook with hesitation before she finally spoke.

"… Are you sure about this?"

Her voice was soft, careful.

"If you don't want to co, it's really okay. You know the governnt's still watching you, right? Even now."

She exhaled through her nose, shifting uncomfortably.

"It might be better if you—"

"No."

Scott cut her off before she could finish.

"I have to…"

He said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"At the very least… I need to pay respects. To the heroes who died saving others. To the civilians who never had the chance to be saved."

His jaw clenched. His fingers curled tighter.

He hadn't realized how hard he was gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. His eyes burned—not with grief, but with sothing beyond that. A rage that needed to be buried, smothered, because if he let it out, he wouldn't be able to stop.

Dog Girl waved her fists angrily, breaking the tension.

"I still can't believe people are actually blaming you for this, boss! Like you were the one who attacked tro City—what kind of dumbass logic is that? You're obviously not that strong—"

Silence.

The mont the words left her mouth, Dog Girl's ears shot up in pure terror. Her face went pale as she slapped both hands over her mouth and her eyes widened as if she had just outed a governnt secret.

"I-I an—!!"

She shook her head frantically.

"NO, NO, NO!! Boss is super strong! The STRONGEST! I'd never say sothing as blasphemous as him being weaker than that smug, psychotic dickhead who—who—!"

Her fists balled up again, shaking with anger.

Miss rcury sighed, rubbing her temple.

"You're not helping."

Despite himself, Scott let out a small exhale.

Not quite a chuckle. Not quite relief.

Just… sothing to acknowledge that the mont had thankfully passed.

"It's fine…"

He muttered, then relaxed his grip.

"I already talked to my lawyer. The Hero Agency agreed I wouldn't be facing any charges. Everything is alleged, and they already matched my appearance with Super Scott's. The noticeable scar on his neck is proof enough that we're not the sa person."

He leaned back against the headrest, staring blankly at the windshield.

"There were also alibis from you all. I was gone before he even appeared. Plus, a few heroes and celebrities vouched for , so… at least that's sothing."

rcury watched him closely as her eyes lingered.

Sothing about the way he said that…

She tilted her head, giving him the kind of look a mother would give a child who was struggling but refusing to admit it.

"All of that sounds like good news."

Her voice was gentle.

"So… what's the problem?"

Scott didn't respond.

rcury leaned in, placing a soft hand against his cheek.

"Scott."

Her touch was warm, grounding.

"If you're not getting punished for this, then why do you still look like hell?"

For a mont, it seed like he wouldn't answer.

Then, he exhaled slowly, like he was preparing himself to say sothing he really didn't want to.

"M-, My lawyer said in order to clear my na… the Hero Agency wants to make a speech."

rcury nodded. "Okay. That's not—"

"They want to tell everyone that this was all orchestrated by Nightwatch."

Silence.

rcury's fingers froze against his skin.

Scott swallowed hard as his voice dropped lower.

"That I was a victim. That Nightwatch is responsible for everything."

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head.

"Apparently, the Agency's been looking for a public figure to spearhead their campaign against Nightwatch and his 'acts of terrorism.' Since using heroes doesn't make sense due to what the hero could gain from hating against a deeply loved vigilante, they need soone beloved by the public. Soone without a pre-existing grudge. Soone with a high profile."

His expression darkened.

"Turns out… I check all the boxes."

rcury was still staring at him. Disbelief. Shock.

Then, before he could react, she grabbed him by the collar with her one good arm and yanked him forward as her smooth forehead pressed against his, then she hissed—

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?! Do you even hear what you're saying? You're Nightwatch!"

Her voice dropped into a whisper, barely audible.

"They're making you destroy everything you've built…"

Scott didn't answer.

Because deep down… he knew.

Scott exhaled deeply as the regret pressed down on his chest like a lead slab. He barely had the heart to look Miss rcury in the eyes as he muttered—

"Look… as much as I don't want to destroy everything I've built—as much as I don't want to betray the people who believe in Nightwatch—I have to… if I'm gonna give myself another fighting chance, is that wrong?"

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly again.

He couldn't bring himself to look at her—not when he could feel her gaze burning into him, not when he knew she wouldn't accept it.

That's when rcury snapped.

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, her grip so strong that it almost hurt as she yanked him closer.

"Don't you get it?! You're not just losing as Nightwatch — you're losing as Scott McQueen!"

She shouted with so much pain and anger.

Scott flinched. He could feel the fury in every word, but he still couldn't et her eyes.

"There are still people who believe in Nightwatch! People who see through the bullshit the HA is pulling!"

Her voice started to shake.

"But if you do this… if you stand in front of that crowd and spit out the lies they want you to say… you'll destroy both of your nas. Nightwatch will be the villain they always wanted him to be, and Scott McQueen will be the coward who threw him under the bus. Do you not understand that?!"

She was panting now — her breaths were shaky and her hands trembled as they clutched his collar.

Tears stread down her face, and yet Scott still gave her nothing. Just silence.

"God damn it—ANSWER !"

She shook him this ti, then her voice broke.

But still, Scott didn't respond.

Instead, he gently grabbed her wrist — the sa wrist she was using to grip his collar — and slowly pried her hand away.

His touch wasn't rough. It wasn't cold. It was… tired.

Exhausted.

He shook his head slightly and muttered—

"We should go. The funeral's already started."

His voice was dead.

With that, Scott straightened his tie, adjusted his collar, and stepped out of the GT-R without another word.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Dog Girl and Marcus sat awkwardly in the backseat and exchanged glances, unsure of what to say.

rcury just sat there, hands covering her face as muffled sobs escaped her lips.

Neither of them moved to comfort her.

Neither of them knew how.

━ ━ ━ ━

The funeral was a sea of black.

The sky lood heavy and gray, like it was on the verge of weeping for the dead.

At the podium, the officiant spoke to the somber crowd.

"In the final quarter of this year, 2045, we have lost more than we can put into words… more than nas on a list, more than statistics in a report—these were people. People who could have been friends. Family. Loved ones. People who had dreams, who had lives, and who gave everything to protect what was precious. To protect life itself."

So heroes bowed their heads, others clenched their fists, trying to hold back tears. So couldn't take it—they got up and walked away, unable to bear the weight of it all.

The Peak was not among them.

No, The Peak was at ho, in his mansion, watching reruns of Bella Trevors' movies. He sat there in his pajamas, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, grinning as he took each bite.

Pulsar, however, was there.

She sat toward the edge of the crowd as her eyes locked on Scott and Miss rcury from afar.

Scott looked… hollow. Like a ghost.

And rcury… the way she kept sneaking worried glances at him like his happiness was her happiness, the way she looked so utterly defeated beside him… Pulsar felt a pang of guilt stab her chest.

That should be beside him… she thought bitterly.

Not her…

But it was too late for that. She had burned that bridge with her own hands.

And worst of all? She had stopped talking to rcury too.

Dozens of missed calls.

Hundreds of unread ssages.

And she still couldn't bring herself to answer even one.

She sighed heavily, resting her arms on her lap as she stared at the ground.

･･･

anwhile, far from the City Hall, on the rooftop of a high-rise building, three won watched from the shadows.

Rope Girl had her high-tech binoculars locked onto Scott.

Her expression was empty as always.

"Do you really think this guy is Nightwatch?"

Witch asked with a lifted eyebrow.

"Cuckoo Gun Chick over here told you've been watching him for a while now."

"Hey!"

Deathmark puffed her squishy cheeks in annoyance and crossed her arms under her bouncing breasts.

"Don't call that!"

Witch ignored her and turned back to Rope Girl.

"So? What's the verdict?"

Rope Girl exhaled softly, lowering her binoculars. She closed her eyes for a mont before finally speaking.

"There's no way this guy is Nightwatch. He's barely out of highschool… do you really think a pretty face like him would have what it takes to fight like veteran martial artists with just basic judo classes? I think not. Besides…"

Her plain voice paused for a brief second.

"If he was, Grave would've killed him already."

Witch tilted her head.

"You were watching him back at Mantis Tower during that event, weren't you? Why?"

Rope Girl nodded.

"It wasn't Scott McQueen I was watching. It was the old butler he was with."

Witch squinted. "Morgan? Bella Trevors' PA?"

"Yeah…"

Rope Girl confird.

"Did a background check on him. Turns out Morgan isn't his real na. He's an ex-Navy SEAL who went missing for a certain period of ti — you know, on that… day. After that? All governnt and satellite records on him just… vanished."

Witch gave her a bored look.

"So what, you think he's Nightwatch?"

"Not exactly…"

Rope Girl said simply. Then she added—

"But he has the sa drive. The sa heroic perspective that Nightwatch does."

Witch side-eyed her.

"So you admit it then? That Nightwatch is a hero?"

The question was daring.

Deathmark instantly tensed up, then took a step back like she didn't want to be involved in this conversation.

But Rope Girl didn't flinch.

She didn't take it as Witch using her own words against her — not even in the slightest.

In fact, her response was calm.

"Of course… anyone who can't tell that Nightwatch is a hero is a blind fool."

Witch humd in amusent.

"Then why the hell are we still trying to kill him?"

Rope Girl turned her binoculars back on.

"Because it's our job… if we want to pay off our debt to the Hero Agency and the U.S. Military, if we want to retire as rcenary heroes and finally be free — then we kill whoever they tell us to."

She paused. Only to add—

"Even if that person had the purest heart."

There was no hesitation. No empathy.

Just cold, hard reality.

Witch nodded, accepting the answer.

The three of them turned their eyes back to the City Hall and kept watching from the shadows as the officiant continued his speech.