The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 250

Chapter 250: 250 | The Unmarked Kid Gets a Custom Fit

He reached behind the demonstration floor’s equipment rack and produced a small remote, which looked absurd in his massive hand, like watching a grizzly bear operate a TV clicker. He pressed a button and the reinforced wall panels on the east side of the room split apart with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a recessed alcove that ran the entire length of the classroom.

Inside the alcove, arranged in numbered compartments from one to twenty, sat cases. Silver and compact, about the size of a carry-on suitcase, each one bearing the Halloran crest and a student number stamped in gold.

"Your Hero Costumes!" Radiant announced, sweeping one arm toward the alcove like a game show host revealing the grand prize. "Designed based on the Aspect profiles and physical measurements you submitted during registration! Each one customized to support YOUR specific abilities!"

The room went dead silent again, but a completely different kind of silent. This was the silence of twenty teenagers realizing that the metal cases in front of them contained the thing they’d been imagining since they first manifested. The costume. The suit. The uniform that transformed a student into something closer to what they actually wanted to be.

"Grab your case! Numbers match your roster position!" Radiant’s voice carried genuine excitement, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as we had. "Changing rooms are through the door on the west side! You have TEN MINUTES!"

The stampede lasted approximately four seconds. Twenty bodies launched from their seats and converged on the alcove with the coordinated chaos of a Black Friday sale at a sporting goods store. Caden nearly clotheslined Marco reaching for his case. Camille shouldered past Eden with the focused aggression of someone who’d been waiting to see her costume since childhood. Petra walked instead of running, because of course she did, but her pace was faster than her usual aristocratic glide by a factor that betrayed actual eagerness beneath the composure.

My case sat in slot number two. The silver surface was cool under my fingers and lighter than I expected for something that contained my entire professional identity. The gold number caught the overhead lights as I pulled it free and fell into the stream of students heading toward the west door.

The changing area was a long room divided by partitions into individual stalls, each one roughly four feet wide with a bench and a mirror. I claimed the nearest empty stall and set the case on the bench.

The latch clicked open with a satisfying mechanical sound.

Inside, nestled in molded foam padding, lay my Hero costume. I stared at it for several seconds.

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