The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 308

Chapter 308: 308 | Your Problems Are My Problems [PS BONUS]

I pocketed the phone and picked up the pace. The bond between us pulsed with exhaustion and something that felt like emotional overload, which probably meant Sloane’s afternoon had been as interesting as mine, just with more childhood hero worship and fewer insurance fraud implications.

The cafeteria operated at reduced capacity during the three o’clock hour, the dinner rush still two hours away and the lunch crowd long since dispersed. I found Sloane at our usual table by the windows, her pink hair pulled back in a ponytail that had seen better days, her training uniform rumpled in ways that suggested extensive physical activity.

She looked up when I approached, and her smile carried exhaustion around the edges.

"You look like someone put you through a blender," I said, settling into the chair across from her.

"Radiant moves like the air itself wants to get out of his way." She rubbed her shoulder with one hand. "Also, he’s terrifying in person. Like, genuinely terrifying. Not scary-movie terrifying. More like standing-too-close-to-a-nuclear-reactor terrifying."

"But you survived."

"Barely." The bond pulsed with complicated emotion, pride mixed with something closer to religious awe. "He made us run scenarios. Combat scenarios with actual tactical complexity, not the baby exercises we’ve been doing. Team coordination, environmental hazards, multiple objectives." She paused. "I was good at it."

"Of course you were good at it."

"No, I was really good at it. Like, scary good. Radiant noticed." Her voice dropped. "He asked to speak with me after class."

The bond carried a spike of something that wasn’t quite anxiety but wasn’t quite excitement either. Something between the two, with edges I couldn’t identify.

"What did he say?"

"He said my tactical instincts were exceptional for a first-year student. He said my combat awareness suggested prior training that wasn’t documented in my file. He said my mother had done excellent work preparing me for academy life." Sloane’s fingers drummed against the table. "Then he asked if I was planning to follow the agency track or pursue independent licensure."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I hadn’t decided yet. Which is true, mostly." She met my eyes across the table. "Then he gave me his contact information and said if I ever wanted to discuss career options, I should reach out to him directly."

The Oracle Feed stayed silent, but something in my chest tightened anyway. Radiant doesn’t hand out personal contact information to first-year students unless they’ve caught his attention in ways that matter. And Sloane catching the attention of America’s number one hero meant complications I wasn’t prepared to think about yet.

"That’s good," I said, because it was. "That’s really good."

"Yeah." The bond carried uncertainty beneath the pride. "It is."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the afternoon light shifting across her face and highlighting the exhaustion in her features. Her training uniform clung to her body in ways that reminded me exactly why the Oracle Feed tracked her as my primary heroine target, curves and muscle definition combining into something that bypassed rational thought entirely.

"How was your afternoon?" she asked eventually.

"Educational. Also potentially career-ending."

Her eyebrows rose. "Want to elaborate on that?"

"Percy figured out my documentation has discrepancies."

"What kind of discrepancies?"

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