The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 74

Chapter 74: 74 | It’s Not a Math Test

I crouched low and launched again, the world blurring into streaks of color as Blitz carried me forward. The sensation was fucking addictive. One moment I was standing still, the next I’d crossed thirty feet and my legs remembered how to absorb the momentum without eating concrete.

Twenty percent stamina drain per use. I had five good dashes before I’d need to slow down and let Boundless Stamina work its magic.

The simulation field sprawled ahead like someone had taken a real city block and shrunk it down to toy size. Two-story buildings lined narrow streets. A plaza opened up to my left with a fountain that probably didn’t work. The detail was impressive enough that I almost forgot this was all fake.

A metallic whir caught my attention.

I stopped running and pressed against a brick wall, peering around the corner. Fifteen feet away, a robot rolled into view on treads that left marks in the artificial dirt. The one-pointer. Humanoid torso mounted on tank treads, armed with what looked like a rubber bullet gun. Its head swiveled back and forth in a scanning pattern.

Threat level: pathetic.

The robot’s sensors locked onto me. Its gun arm raised, the barrel tracking my position with mechanical precision.

I activated Spectral Reach, the amber construct materializing from my palm like smoke solidifying into something real. The connection felt natural now after two weeks of tennis ball torture. My brain processed the spatial geometry without conscious effort, finding the optimal angle of approach.

A chunk of broken concrete sat three feet to my left, probably knocked loose during setup. Perfect.

The spectral arm wrapped around the concrete like translucent fingers, lifted it smoothly, and I cocked my arm back in a throwing motion. The construct mirrored the movement. My upgraded Dexterity made the coordination seamless.

The robot fired. Three rubber bullets whizzed past my shoulder.

I threw.

The concrete sailed through the air on a perfect trajectory, carried by telekinetic force that my registered Aspect couldn’t technically produce but whatever. The chunk of building material crashed into the robot’s head with a satisfying crunch of metal and electronics.

Sparks erupted from its neck. The head rolled backward, hanging by exposed wiring. The body twitched once before going still, treads locking up.

ONE POINT

Forty points to go before I hit the theoretical minimum for passing. Assuming the minimum was actually based on points and not some other arbitrary bullshit.

"DUCK!"

I dropped without thinking, pure instinct overriding my Intelligence stat. Something hot passed through the space where my head had been a second ago. The air sizzled and popped. The smell of ozone flooded my nostrils.

A beam of concentrated light carved through the wall behind me, leaving a glowing orange line in the brick.

Holy shit. Someone just blasted a two-pointer.

"Thanks for being a distraction for me!" The voice came from above and behind, male and way too cheerful. "I’ll pay you back sometime!"

I glanced up to see a guy in a black tank top standing on a rooftop, his chest glowing with residual heat. His hands were pressed together like he’d just finished a kamehameha, smoke rising from his palms.

Before I could respond, something massive moved in my peripheral vision.

The three-pointer.

Eight feet tall, quadrupedal design with a reinforced chassis and what looked very much like a chest-mounted laser cannon charging up with an ominous whine. The targeting laser painted a red dot directly over my heart.

Well. Fuck.

The destroyed one-pointer lay ten feet away, its body mostly intact except for the shattered head. My Spectral Reach was still active, the amber construct waiting for commands.

THREE POINTS

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