Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine Chapter 201: Dorm Problems, Anxious Heroism

The sun hung high over tro University as Gwen and Dark Elf stepped down from Tess's SUV, each holding a cardboard box. The mont their boots hit pavent, Ken leaned out the open window from the passenger seat and cleared his throat.

"I'll, uh… pay you a visit once in a while…"

He tried to sound casual but ca off awkward.

"Just make sure you don't get in any trouble, okay?"

Gwen tilted her head sharply.

"What do you an by that? It's not like I'm fucking known for getting in trouble."

There was so offense in her voice—just enough to trigger Tess, who'd been dressing her hair.

"Language, young lady."

Tess snapped.

"And talk to your brother with a little more respect, okay?"

Gwen didn't answer. Her eyes were locked on Ken, who wore that smug, self-satisfied look — like he'd just scored a point in a ga only he was playing.

Tess didn't like being ignored. "Okay?"

Gwen sighed hard through her nostrils.

"Sure, Mom… I'll listen to Kenneth and not get in trouble. That fine?"

Tess smiled like she'd just solved a parenting puzzle.

"Good girl."

Ken's smugness dropped into a more genuine smile.

He looked at Gwen like the protective older brother he'd always tried to be.

"You should really enjoy college from the get-go, alright? Drink cheap beer, go to dumb late-night parties, protest stuff you don't care about…"

That made Gwen snort. "Pfft…"

Tess's brow lifted. "Excuse ? Cheap beer?"

Ken's face dropped like a hamr on ceramic.

"Uh—aha—looks like Gwen should be going! We don't want to get caught in traffic, right?"

And before Tess could say another word—

VROOOOOM.

The SUV tore down the street.

"KENNETH! I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO HER—! About the beer, and the other advice—!"

But Ken was gone, tire smoke in his wake.

Gwen coughed violently from the dust cloud he left behind, a hand to her mouth and the cardboard box cradled in one arm.

anwhile, Dark Elf just stood there with mild disinterest.

She looked at Gwen and said plainly—

"You have a lively family."

Gwen wheezed, still coughing. Her eyes were watery from the dust, but she cracked a smile anyway.

"Heh… that's good, I guess? I just wish they were a little more mute sotis…"

Her eyes lowered.

"We might not look it, but it's been a while since we all sat at the sa dinner table. My dad… my sister…"

Dark Elf tilted her head. "You have a sister?"

"Yeah."

Gwen nodded.

"She's an intern at this research organization my dad works at in New York. I visited him with Mom a few months ago, before all the stuff with finding out Scott's identity and everything concerning you and Grave."

Dark Elf nodded slowly, as if pieces were clicking into place.

"Ohhh. That makes sense."

They walked side by side into the busy center of t U's campus. All around them, students moved in different directions — so were laughing and hanging out in groups on the grass, others were throwing frisbees without much care, and a few were sohow managing to hold a coffee in one hand while texting with the other.

Gwen exhaled. "I miss Scott…"

Dark Elf arched a brow. "Already?"

Gwen nodded quickly.

… Mhm-mmm!

Her lips trembled like she might cry.

But before a tear could fall, she noticed sothing.

A lot of eyes were on them.

She blinked, glanced around, then tensed like soone had flipped a switch in her brain. Her once-relaxed steps turned awkwardly stiff, like she was performing every step on stage.

Dark Elf squinted at her. "What's wrong?"

Gwen whispered back as her eyes bounced around—

"HUH—?! Can't you see it? They're staring… It's… I don't know, unsettling."

Unbothered as always, Dark Elf glanced around.

"Hm…?"

She also saw it.

A group of guys near the student center were eyeing them.

One whistled.

Another winked.

"Ohooo~"

One said, licking his lips.

"Thought I saw all the freshies already, but here co two certified baddies."

Another guy chid in, eyes fixed on Dark Elf.

"Two ga hotties? Crazy. But the black chick is mmm~ that body's doing sothing to , bro."

His eyes shalessly traced Dark Elf's sexy body — the narrow waist, wide hips, and exposed navel beneath her cropped hoodie.

"Wheeew!"

Said a guy in a blue varsity jacket, grinning.

"Two hotties."

"All snacks, no fridge…" his friend added.

"Haha, elite use of words!"

Varsity Jacket replied, giving his friend a friendly punch.

Gwen frowned, spun around, and grabbed Dark Elf by the wrist like a pissed-off babysitter pulling a stubborn kid across a busy street.

"Let's go…" she hissed.

Together, the two girls in cropped hoodies stord into the massive hostel up ahead.

･･･

— Gwen's dorm —

The place was totally different.

If it had to be described in three words, that would be—

Spacious, sleek, and luxurious.

Her things had already been arranged neatly by the truck crew. She dropped her box and threw out her arms like she was welcoming herself to paradise.

"Okay, now this I can get used to."

Dark Elf looked around. She didn't look disappointed, but it didn't exactly blow her away either.

Gwen opened the box and took out a few odd-looking tal cubes that gave off a soft shimr.

Dark Elf tilted her head.

"Are those… your college presents from Scott?"

Gwen bead.

"Yup!"

She held one up and pressed a small button on the side.

The cube shuddered, broke apart into silver droplets, then reassembled into a sleek, roving cleaning bot that zipped off across the room, vacuuming as it went.

"And this one…"

Gwen held another.

"Is a display pod for my super suit. It can also repair civilian clothes and mildly advanced super suits with pinpoint accuracy. Scott said if my clothes ever get torn—"

BANG.

The door flung open.

Gwen yelped, hiding the cube behind her back.

Dark Elf flashed like the wind to snatch the vacuum bot and stuffing it back into a box.

Standing in the doorway was a redheaded girl who was a picture perfect nerd — dorky face, oversized glasses, and fighting a losing battle with acne.

"Uhm… who are you?" Gwen asked.

The girl snorted—actually snorted—and said…

"Oh! I'm Bree! I live across the hall and thought I'd co say hi to my new bestie!"

She giggled, then snorted again.

Gwen slowly turned to look at Dark Elf, who was already lying back on the bed with chips in her mouth and her arms raised like — hey, don't look at .

"Oh, brother…" Gwen muttered.

But Bree wasn't done. She was already circling the room like an overeager ferret.

"Wooow, you must've paid a lot to get this dorm! It's, like, double the size of the average ones here. A lot of the big boys and girls want this spot. I wish I could stay here with you and see more of your stuff!"

Gwen blinked. "Huh…?"

The sester hadn't started, but it already felt long.

･･･

— Emma's Mansion —

Scott stood frozen in the middle of the grand living room, breathing like he'd just outrun death itself.

But this wasn't death—it was sothing worse.

It was her.

Martha.

His mother.

Standing there, in the flesh.

He blinked once. Twice. Swallowed hard.

His tongue felt thick. His throat, tight.

He couldn't speak.

All he could do was breathe. Or at least try to.

She took a soft step forward.

Scott's instincts scread, and he instantly took two back.

His heel brushed against the edge of the sofa behind him.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen her in years.

The hospital had a mandatory visitation program — one or two awkward, heavily-monitored sessions per year. But every visit had always taken sothing out of him. More than any rooftop brawl or monster fight ever could. It required ntal armor he didn't even have nas for.

Martha stopped.

She noticed the tremble in his breath.

The sheer panic in his eyes.

She glanced away, embarrassed, and mumbled, almost inaudibly—

"… Do you still find it hard to breathe around ?"

The question landed like a lead weight in the room.

Scott said nothing.

Martha's shoulders twitched.

She rubbed her palms together awkwardly and chuckled under her breath, trying to fill the silence.

"You must be wondering what I'm doing here. The hospital finally gave my day pass…"

Her eyes danced around the ceiling, avoiding his.

"I know. I know we… agreed I wouldn't co visit you during therapeutic leaves, but I haven't seen you all year… I just… I just wanted to know how my baby boy was doing… to see you and smile… even for a small mont."

Her blue eyes, the sa ones he used to think sparkled like galaxies when he was three, softened.

But Scott… couldn't see the stars anymore.

He clenched his fist tight.

He couldn't stop staring at her hands.

Those sa hands.

The ones that had wrapped around his neck when he was just a kid — tight enough to black out the world.

He felt a spike of fear surge up his chest.

Cold. Crippling. Yet—

"Wh…"

He croaked, then found his voice.

"What're you doing here? How'd you even know I was here? Who the hell let you in—?!"

His tone wasn't what he wanted. Too sharp. Too loud.

But the words were falling out faster than he could control.

He didn't an to sound angry.

He just… didn't have room left for calm.

Martha blinked, startled by the rapidfire questions.

She shrank a little, flustered.

"I—uhm—there was a young man at the gate. Glasses. Kind of polite. He let in…"

She turned and pointed toward the mansion doors.

Scott sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Marcus…" he muttered.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!

The high-pitched tone of the TV-TW — Titan Viper Tactical Wristwatch — cut through the tension.

It flashed bright red on his wrist.

[PRIORITY ALERT!]

[ONGOING POLICE CHASE – DOWNTOWN]

Scott looked down, eyes wide.

『Crap──!』

He looked up.

"Uhm — look, just — just stay here! Don't go anywhere! I'll be back, I just — just gotta…"

Martha tilted her head. "Do what?"

Scott was already halfway across the living room.

"SOTHING!"

He yelled behind him.

But then—her soft and fragile voice called.

"… Scott?"

His feet stopped.

He didn't turn around.

"Will you co back?" she asked. Barely a whisper.

He stood there, back tense, staring at nothing.

And he could feel it.

That ache behind her voice.

Like she didn't believe he would.

He exhaled. "Of course."

And then he burst through the mansion doors.

･･･

— Downtown, tro City —

Sirens wailed like banshees down the streets of tro City as squad cars sliced through traffic like sharks through water. At the lead was Commissioner Bennett, gripping the wheel of his unmarked police cruiser like it owed him money.

"Fuckin' hell…"

He was already angrily spitting.

"City of goddamn heroes and it takes five business days to get one of 'em off their asses."

He slamd the gas harder, roaring ahead of the rest.

"If Nightwatch was still active… this shit wouldn't even make the morning paper. DAMNIT!"

He shouted, punching the dashboard.

Up ahead, leaping from rooftop to rooftop like it was child's play, Cat Lady danced through the air. Her lean figure arced with cat-like grace, a playful grin teasing her lips.

She wasn't just running—she was playing.

BAM! BAM!

Gunshots cracked upward as two officers fired at her from the street below, bullets whizzing past her heels.

She didn't flinch.

More squad cars branched off down alternate routes, trying to cut her off.

Still, she ran.

Vaulting over ledges, flipping off satellite dishes, leaping like gravity wasn't real.

She spotted a flagpole—perfect.

She dove, caught it mid-fall, spiraled around it like a gymnast, and launched herself to a higher rooftop.

THUD!

"Cats always land on their feet~"

She smirked, brushing invisible dust off her shoulder.

Behind her, a massive truck jackknifed across the road—

BOOOOM!

It blocked traffic entirely. A flaming wreck.

Commissioner Bennett skidded to a stop, jumped out of his car, and shouted—

"What the hell's going on?!"

A younger officer saluted, breathless.

"Sir! Looks like a sniper bullet ca outta nowhere and took down the truck driver—caused the crash!"

Bennett narrowed his eyes.

"That wasn't Cat Lady. She doesn't do guns. Her whole shtick's claws and a whip…"

The officer nodded and scribbled that down.

Bennett looked back toward the rooftops.

Cat Lady was long gone.

He growled under his breath.

"Cats are lucky—but this wasn't luck. There's another player in this."

Up in the sky, the news chopper hovered.

The active Judy Cho leaned into the mic.

"It looks like tro PD is doing their best—but as always, it may not be enough in a city of superheroes!"

She bead.

"Lovely viewers at ho, take your guesses on which hero will swoop in next — and stand a chance to win so tro Daily rch!"

She winked.

"And now, back to the chase!"

VROOOOM!

The roar of a motorcycle echoed down the street.

It was a sleek, black motorcycle with blue tron lines.

Shadow arrived in his full Shadow Factor Suit, layered under a rugged brown trenchcoat.

He kicked the stand, dismounted, and walked toward the confused commissioner.

"Commissioner. What's the update?"

Bennett gave him a sour glance.

"Well, unlicensed hero, our suspect's long gone. Which is bad, 'cause she stole so kind of mu—muta—"

"Mutagenium."

Shadow cut in.

"Elent 120. Highly unstable. Triggers the force-gene in humans. Turns 'em into superableds."

Bennett blinked. "… Right. That."

Shadow's helt lenses narrowed. "I'll catch her."

Bennett rolled his eyes.

"I really can't believe I'm saying this… no offense, but leave this to the pros. You're not licensed. And you're also not Nightwatch, so I don't thi—"

Shadow was already gone, leaping skyward.

His trenchcoat flapped off mid-air and landed on Bennett's face.

The commissioner pulled it down with a sigh.

"Damn… he's kinda cool though."

Shadow bounded over car roofs, one by one, drawing gasps and shouts from drivers stuck in traffic.

Finally, he spotted her—Cat Lady—making another elegant leap across the skyline.

Shadow smirked behind his mask.

He crouched low, gathered montum—

THUMP!

And landed powerfully at the tail end of the traffic with a sharp, panther-like pose.

[DING! Livestream Mode Activated]

The corner of Shadow's visor flashed with icons.

Thousands of viewers tuned in.

『Heh, it's been a while…』