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

Chapter 171 - 171: Prodigal Daughter, Nightmare

Earth Two, Metro City.

McQueen Mansion – Maxwell's Office

Scottie moved like a ghost—her steps were silent and her presence was just like a whisper in the grand, luxurious space of Maxwell McQueen's office.

Each of her movements were calculated and her sharp eyes scanned every corner, every shadow as she made sure she wasn't being watched.

The office was just as she remembered—luxurious, very intimidating, the kind of place meant to make people feel small. But Scottie wasn't here to be intimidated.

She was here for The Artifact.

Rushing behind Maxwell's massive desk, she ran her fingers under its polished surface,

His voice was sharp. A warning.

"I worked too hard to forge Scott into the man he is today. And I am not about to let some useless, untalented, frustrating, love-deprived bastard come waltzing in here to ruin that!"

Something inside Scottie snapped.

Her hand shot out.

And she slapped him. Hard.

Her palm stung—badly. But she didn't care.

She refused to give him that satisfaction.

And Maxwell?

He didn't move. Didn't react. Didn't even blink.

Like a feather had brushed his cheek.

The only thing he did… was smirk.

That same goddamn smirk.

Maxwell chuckled softly as he rubbed his cheek—not because the slap stung, but because of the sheer audacity of the girl standing before him. This ordinary, pitiful creature had not only dared to raise her voice at him but had the gall to lay her hands on him.

It was beyond infuriating. It was insulting.

For a moment, he wanted to kill her.

Right here. Right now.

To crush that defiant fire in her eyes with his bare hands. But he held himself back—not out of mercy, but because he didn't need Super Scott breathing down his neck just yet.

So, instead, he simply laughed.

"Well…"

He spoke with that deceptively calm voice of his as he turned his back to her.

"It's been nice having you."

He walked to his desk, pressed a sleek button on his intercom, and in a voice stripped of all its usual fake sweetness he sharply ordered—

"Get in here. Now."

Scottie stiffened.

She could already hear the approaching footsteps.

Her eyes landed on a framed photo resting on a nearby table—Maxwell and a young Scott. A picture-perfect father and son. She snatched it up, staring at it as a thousand emotions boiled inside her. Why?

She knew she wasn't his real daughter, but why couldn't he ever love her the way their mother did?

The way he loved Scott?

The door behind her opened, and she felt the presence of Maxwell's security team standing just behind her, ready to drag her away like she was nothing. But before they could lay a hand on her, Maxwell spoke.

"You want to know why?"

He said coldly, adjusting his cufflinks.

"Because you're simply not special. And in the world I'm building… that's what I demand."

The words cut deeper than any blade.

Scottie clenched her jaw, her grip on the photo tightening until her knuckles cracked. Then, with a sudden burst of rage, she hurled it to the ground.

CRASH!!

Glass shattered as the frame broke into useless fragments — just like the twisted idea of 'family' she once held onto.

That was the signal.

The guards grabbed her and yanked her back, but she fought them.

As they dragged her away, she thrashed and shouted—

"I just hope the shitty love I have for him is enough to save him when Scott finally betrays you! I can't wait to watch everything you hold dear abandon you, you son of a bitch!"

Maxwell didn't move. Didn't react.

He just stood there and watched her with a plain face as the doors slammed shut behind her.

Then, slowly, his eyes briefly drifted back to the alien cube on his desk.

He said nothing as his mind dived into deep thought.

━ ━ ━ ━

During this time…

Scott soared over Metro City as his Anti-Disaster Suit glided effortlessly through the air. The city below stretched out in what was now a familiar bleak, gray expanse — gloomy, lifeless, tainted by Maxwell and Super Scott's reign.

None of it made sense.

He didn't want to believe that Maxwell was truly like this — that he was always this kind of person. Was this really what his father had been hiding all along? Or was this world just so twisted that even good men became monsters?

He shook his head in frustration.

He didn't have an answer.

But then—something caught his eye.

An open space in the city. A wrong space.

His HUD zoomed in.

Scott's heart stopped.

His breath caught in his throat. His eyes trembled.

『No way…』

He shot down from the sky like a missile and his sleek, white armored boots slammed into the pavement as his high-tech helmet dissolved into his suit. His chest was rising and falling, breath coming in quick, panicked gasps.

『This shouldn't be here… this is where the founder's statue is supposed to be.』

Not this. Not this. It couldn't be.

His knees nearly buckled as he took slow, staggering steps forward—toward the spear driven into the ground.

Toward the head impaled on it.

Martha.

His mother's face was frozen in agony as her pale skin was streaked with dried blood. Her lips were slightly parted, as if caught mid-scream.

And somehow—somehow—her eyes were still open.

Scott fell to his knees.

"… Mom …"

The world around him blurred.

His ears rang. His hands trembled violently.

But then—her lips moved.

"You…"

Scott's breath hitched. His body went rigid with terror.

Her lips moved again, and this time her voice was louder.

"It's you…"

His chest tightened, his lungs refusing to function.

The System quickly spoke up—

[Although the head of Martha McQueen has been torn off her body, an unknown energy is preserving her consciousness, forcing her to experience the eternal torment of—]

"Shut up." Scott's voice came out hoarse.

The System obeyed.

His fists clenched while his breathing ragged.

His mind was spiraling. He could feel it.

"Who did this?" His voice was low, shaking.

And then, Martha's head screamed.

"YOU DID THIS!"

Scott scrambled backward and his hands scraped against the pavement as he crawled away in sheer horror.

Her eyes—those haunting, lifeless eyes—were completely locked onto him.

Her mouth twisted as thick, black blood poured out and dripped down the spear like ink.

"YOU DID THIS!"

Scott's entire body convulsed with terror, his sweat cold as his mind spun into chaos.

"No. No. No."

He clutched his head, rocking slightly as whispered—

"No, no, no, no—"

And just when it felt like his sanity was slipping—

A portal tore open.

A blur shot through—crashing straight into him.

Scott barely had time to react as a warm, familiar weight collapsed against his chest.

Without even looking, he could tell that there was a child in his arms.

He gasped, eyes wide as he stared down at the wounded small-bodied woman now in his arms.

Her super suit was a bit patchy. Her cape torn.

Her breathing ragged. But even in her battered state, she still managed to smile.

A trembling hand reached up to his face, then intimately brushed against his cheek.

"Mael…?"

His breath hitched.

That name. It was her.

Lady Fortress.

She smiled wider, weak but relieved.

"It's you."

Scott blinked. His lips parted, words failing him.

"… What?"