Chapter 27 Idiot-ade.

Chapter 27: 27 Idiot-ade.

"I would like to say that I do not think this is an effective use of my abilities," Red Death interrupted forcefully. "My heroic powers are not to be used on a whim, but only for the cause of fighting for truth and justice!"

I glanced at him over my menu and then over to Simon, who was now looking quite uncomfortable. Hmm.

I wasn’t that surprised. A lot of heroes when they first started working as a cape didn’t like hiring people like me to make them look good.

I couldn’t really blame them. When someone first developed powers, they either thought they were going to save the world or burn it down.

Then they discovered literally hundreds of others had the same idea, and a lot of them were better at it.

It was basically OnlyFans, people got in thinking it was easy money and they’d rocket to the top only to realise that only 5 to 10% could do this for a living.

After a shock like that, most newbies either got a regular job or became streeters, but if they had an interesting powerset they might get picked up by an agency.

Which felt nice, no doubt, until work dried up and suddenly the public started forgetting about them.

"Of course, Death. Of course," Simon said quickly, moving to pat the hero’s shoulder then thinking better of it. "This is just a... ah... a temporary measure. Just to generate some engagement and good press. Make sure people still see you doing good work, you know?"

"I don’t need a man like this to assure the people I still fight for them!" Death proclaimed.

Oh, this was going poorly, and I could already tell Red Death was not going to be a good client for me to work with.

I could deal with egos. Hell, that was pretty much everyone in the market for a villain to beat up. But idiots were a problem.

Not in losing to them, though it was a bit more work to make it look good.

But if they were stupid, they might get me killed, or try something crazy in the middle of a fight. And why should I bother with that?

"Maybe this wasn’t a good idea," I said, looking at Simon. "If your hero isn’t willing..."

"He is. He is! I assure you," Simon said quickly, his head bobbing like a turkey, his hand patting Death’s arm. "Red Death can be utterly professional in a combat setting, I assure you."

"Do you think I couldn’t beat you?" Red Death said.

Oh, here it goes. "I didn’t say that," I said with a sigh, flipping through the menu. "Of course you could beat me. That’s the whole point of this."

"I think you’re lying!" Red Death snapped, red energy crackling in his palm.

Well, clearly he wasn’t concerned about causing a scene.

I glanced around the restaurant, noting more than a few worried faces looking over at our table.

"I’m sure you’re very accomplished," I said drily. "No doubt I would be absolutely destroyed if we met in true, honorable battle."

"You, a mere jobber villain, think you could best me in a fight?"

I leaned back, staring him down. "What do you want me to say here, man?"

"I can prove I can best you!"

"Well, that’ll cost you at least ten grand," I said.

"Why?" Red Death growled.

"I don’t fight heroes for free," I said. "I don’t fight for free at all."

"And if I don’t give you a choice?" Red Death said, rising to his feet, pushing back his chair.

I narrowed my eyes. The cutlery on the table vibrated as my magnetic powers began to pick them up. "Simon? I think your hero and you might want to reconsider."

Simon’s head swung between Red Death and me, his mouth flapping as tension crackled in the air. "I... er... ah..."

"Boss!"

I knew that voice.

My head jerked around like someone had tied a rope around it and pulled hard.

I stared as Psyren strode across the restaurant. Dressed in her typical denim, tanktop and headphones with the addition of a spiky leather jacket, she looked more like she was going to a rave than coming to a semi-classy restaurant.

I mean, there wasn’t a dress code, but still.

"What the..." I said, unable to formulate anything else.

"Boss, I’m sooooo sorry I’m late," she said with a teasing pout.

"Late?"

"Yeah!" With a swing of her hips she slid into the seat beside me, smirking like a cat who found the cream. "I’m sorry. I know I can be a real brat, huh? But we can still have our meeting, right? You guys don’t mind, do you?" she said with a sly look across the table.

"O-of course not," Simon gaped.

"Y-yes. That should be fine..."

Fuck! It showed how compelling Psyren could make herself that I completely forgot about the walking plague looking to melt my face off.

But when I quickly turned back to him, it seemed Red Death had also forgotten all about me, and only had eyes for Psyren. In fact, the lenses of his mask seemed to be glowing pink...

Suddenly suspicious, I glanced back at her, and lo and behold, the familiar neon glow of fluttering hearts were in her eyes.

I very briefly considered admonishing her, then realized that this was actually an occasion where her powers should be used, so decided to let it slide.

"Thanks!" Psyren said, beaming as she picked up a fork and started twirling it. "You gonna introduce me?" she asked me.

I supposed there was no avoiding it at this point. "Gentlemen," I said, gesturing at her. "This is Psyren. My—"

"Protégé!" she said, twanging the prongs of the fork, whose sound seemed to hum in the air. "Looking to get into the freelance business too."

"You are?" Simon and Red Death said, suddenly both very attentive.

"Oh yeah," Psyren giggled, fluttering her lashes and nibbling on the ends of the fork. "I can be a very bad girl you know..."