The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214: 214 | The Girl With the Loaded Gun Smile

The cohort scattered toward the water station. I found a spot near the edge of the field where I could catch my breath and pretend to recover from exertion I hadn’t actually experienced.

Sloane was feeling something that registered as satisfaction through the Devotion’s Echo. Probably finished her own evaluation and crushed it. That woman didn’t know how to do anything halfway.

Camille appeared beside me. Her breathing was still heavy and there was sweat dripping from her dark hair, but her eyes burned with something that wasn’t quite anger.

"Fourth place," she said.

"Looks that way."

"You weren’t tired."

I didn’t respond.

"I watched you for the whole race." She stepped closer, her presence sharp and demanding in a way that reminded me of Sloane. "You ran the first three laps like you were taking a casual jog. Then you accelerated at the end and finished fourth without even breathing hard. That’s not normal."

"I’m good at pacing."

"Bullshit." The word came out hard and flat. "You’re hiding something. Steele thinks so. I think so. Probably half the cohort thinks so."

"Lots of people think lots of things."

Camille studied me with eyes that were too sharp for comfort. Her gym clothes clung to her curves with sweat, outlining a figure that her fierce personality somehow made more attractive rather than less. She was beautiful in the way a loaded weapon was beautiful, all dangerous potential waiting for a target.

"I’m going to figure you out," she said.

"Is that a threat?"

"It’s a promise." She smiled, sharp and challenging. "You’re interesting, Belmont. And I don’t like mysteries."

She turned and walked toward the water station, her hips swaying with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what she looked like from behind and didn’t care who noticed.

The System helpfully informed me that her Temptation Gauge had initialized at four percent.

Great. Another one.

Felicity appeared from somewhere and handed me a water bottle. "Making friends?"

"Something like that."

"Camille’s intense." She took a long drink from her own bottle. "She and Sloane should form a club for women who express affection through intimidation."

"They’d argue about who gets to be president."

"They’d argue about everything." Felicity laughed, bright and genuine. "That would actually be entertaining to watch."

Steele’s voice cut across the field. "Strength evaluations. Everyone to the testing station."

The testing station was a section of Field Epsilon that had been set up with various equipment while we were running. Weighted cables attached to force sensors. Grip strength dynamometers. A reinforced punching bag with impact measurement systems. Everything you needed to reduce a person’s physical capability to numbers on a tablet.

We lined up again, alphabetically, and began the process of demonstrating how hard we could push and pull and hit things.

Ren Ashida’s grip strength was acceptable but not impressive. His pushing force was better. His punching power was below average, which made sense for someone whose combat style relied on terrain manipulation rather than direct physical engagement.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify