Note: I'm aware that I missed 2 weeks worth of releases, so I'll be releasing another chapter today, with two more arriving on Friday. Sorry for missing my release date...
CHAPTER THREE
The Return of Crow-Man
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Sam was lying on his back while the rest of his body ached all over. His head was also hurting to the point that it took several precious seconds for conscious thought to return to him.
“Yow…” he groaned.
Despite the ringing in his ears, he could hear the screams of pain and indignation from those villains who’d been swept in the same kinetic explosion that had knocked him down.
“Where… am I?”
Sam turned his head left and then right to discover that he’d fallen into a wide, circular space that seemed like the inside of a government building after a catastrophe; cracked stone walls and a ruined parquet floor littered with broken furniture and debris from the ginormous hole he’d created in the ceiling.
Sam struggled to his knees. “Where is—”
He heard footsteps that drowned out all the other noises around him. Tap, tap, tap—they were the self-assured steps of someone who didn’t seem bothered by the chaos around them.
“Thunder…?”
Through the dust cloud that hovered over him, Sam could see a figure approaching. He couldn’t quite make out who it was because his sight was blurred, and black spots were hovering at the corners of his vision.
ALERT! You have been affected by a [Concussion]. [Regeneration (Δ)] is already working to heal you. Please refrain from moving too much until the debilitating condition has been removed.
At the same time as Triple-A’s warning, Sam heard a panicked voice inside his head. You’ve got incoming, Kid!
Chiron’s warning cry forced Sam’s mind to reboot just in time for him to roll away from the kick aimed at his head.
WARNING! [Concussion] has yet to heal. The regeneration of your health and stamina is slowed while this condition persists. It is recommended that you refrain from overt actions and ability usage until [Regeneration (Δ)] has healed you enough.
“I wish I could…” Sam sighed. “But Thunder—”
“Isn’t as banged up as you look,” said the man who just stepped into Sam’s field of view. “But I doubt even one of this country’s top heroes will stay standing for much longer now that the sub-level three prisoners have begun to come up to this floor.”
He was a tall, wiry man with wavy, dark red hair framing a thin, pale face. He wore the same white prison outfit as those around him, but this new villain crossing Sam’s path had an air of confidence that made him stand out from the pack of hardened criminals beginning to surround the hero.
“Sub-level three…?” Sam repeated.
“Yes… it’s the prison wing where they keep the truly depraved—the mass murderers, the serial killers, and even some fools driven mad by the gods,” the man answered, frowning as he did. “Frankly, with my reputation, I’m surprised I only merited the second sub-level treatment as if I was some common villain who hadn’t terrorized an entire city when I was free to commit the despicable acts they imprisoned me for.”
“Styx…” Sam got up on shaky legs. “You’re Mr. Crimson…”
In his mind, Sam recalled Barbelle’s last moments; a terrified, wide-eyed look with tears streaming down her bronze cheeks as she begged him to save her.
“And you’re Herculean.” Mr. Crimson eyed Sam up and down with the gaze of one scrutinizing a piece of artwork…or livestock. “I’ve read that name repeatedly in the Herald… the vigilante with the incredible strength who causes mayhem wherever he goes.”
Mr. Crimson’s gaze briefly went up to what remained of the Crucible’s rooftop platform and the double titanium doors that had escaped the suicide bomb he’d manufactured from Barbelle’s sacrifice.
“Could you be strong enough to break through those?” A mischievous grin appeared on Mr. Crimson’s face. “Either way, you’ll make an excellent puppet to facilitate my escape.”
Sam’s brows knotted together. “You read the Herald…?”
Seriously, kid, this villain threatened to turn you into his toy and your family’s newspaper is what you’re focusing on?
It’s a little shocking to hear that the Crucible subscribes to the Herald, Sam countered. The Post, the Times, and The Guardian are way more truthful than the Herald these days…
Worry about your reputation later, lame-brain, Chiron chided. Now’s the time to focus on the guy who can turn you into a walking bomb with a single bite!
Chiron didn’t need to tell him because Sam couldn’t keep his eyes off the crazy look in Mr. Crimson’s gaze that reminded him too much of the crazy, bald villain that had nearly killed him and Thunder a few months ago. Still, Sam couldn’t just let it go. The Herald was that much of a thorn in his side these days.
“Um, you shouldn’t believe everything you read in that newspaper.” With Onus lost among the rubble on the floor, Sam’s hand drifted to the sword hilt strapped to his back. “I’m not entirely sure why they’re so biased against me but they are.”
Sam knew the Herald’s publisher was against him becoming a hero again but he didn’t think it was enough for Marie to work so hard to ruin his image despite her raising him for most of his teen years. It was, in Sam’s perspective, one of life’s greatest mysteries, and one he needed to sort out with her soon if he was truly intent on going legitimate. Assuming Sam survived the Crucible and its inmates, of course.
“Oh, I tend not to believe everything I read in the papers. There was plenty of fake news about me too, you know.” Mr. Crimson’s smile widened, revealing the two sharp fangs protruding from his upper lip. “I’ll be able to see your strength for myself once I’ve made you my…plaything.”
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Don’t let the vampire wannabee bite you or he’ll compel you to do whatever he wants, Chiron reminded Sam.
“I know…” Sam whispered back.
ALERT! [Concussion] has been healed. You’re free to go crazy again.
With that notification came relief, and Sam’s pounding headache finally subsided along with the few black dots at the edges of his vision.
“About time,” Sam whispered. “But where’s—”
Despite the looming threat of Mr. Crimson, Sam’s gaze was drawn to a scene on his left; Thunder, relatively unscathed but for the streaks of hair clinging to her sweaty brow and the smudges of dirt blemishing her white suit, was fighting off a small tide of villains desperate to get past her so they could climb back up to what remained of the platform above. Seeing her tripping them up like a professional dancer in the middle of a crowd of amateurs filled Sam with courage and hope. It was a hope that they might live through this crazy episode they’d found themselves in.
“Shall we begin?” called Mr. Crimson, drawing Sam’s attention back to his evil grin. “I have a reunion with a certain Crow I’d like to keep, and I can’t wait to see his face when I force his little sidekick to kill herself in front of him.”
Mr. Crimson got his reunion much earlier than he expected though.
As soon as he lunged toward Sam, a feather-shaped throwing knife stabbed him in the shoulder, causing the villain to pull back from his attack.
“Who did that?!” he complained.
Right on cue, a thick pillar of ice shot out of the gaping hole the third sub-level villains had been climbing out of. Riding on top of this pillar were several people; injured security guards in various states of recuperation, as well as a bunch of familiar faces, one of whom caused a wide grin to appear on Sam’s face. “Crow-Man!”
The veteran hero with the bird-shaped cowl and the black feathers cape was the first to jump off the rising ice pillar. He landed on Cheetor with a knee that smashed against the villain’s feline face. That surprise hit knocked Cheetor to the ground while also ringing the proverbial gong that announced the start of the second sub-level’s royal rumble.
As for Sam, he’d barely called out Crow-Man’s name before a half-naked, muscular man with dark skin and a huge afro appeared to replace Mr. Crimson as his next opponent. Mr. Crimson was nowhere in sight, because the villain had conveniently disappeared once Crow-Man showed up.
“But… why’s Crow-Man here?” Sam asked in confusion.
He posed his question to the villain he now faced. The only response he got was a hurtling fist three times the size of the villain’s body.
“Oh, Styx—you’re Disaster Joe!”
Sam ducked underneath Disaster Joe’s gigantic fist while drawing his sword from its improvised sheath and then sliced at the villain’s exposed midsection with Gram’s enchanted blade.
“Oh, right”—Sam’s eyes widened at the sight of Gram drawing only a thin line of blood into the abnormally thick muscles of Disaster Joe’s abdomen—“you’ve got a beta-level ‘gigantification’ gift, which I must admit is super cool…even though you’re now super bad.”
Sam shuffled back while the six-foot Disaster Joe grew into a ten-foot bruiser with muscles on top of already bulging muscles. Once he’d grown to a size that would dwarf even Apex, Disaster Joe took a fighter’s stance that reminded Sam of this villain’s past profession as a former world heavyweight powers-boxing champion.
“Hey, Mr. Joe, I was a huge fan when you were still the champ!” Sam ducked out of the way of a right-fisted jab that would have blown his head off its shoulders if he’d been tagged by it. “Before the gambling debts piled up and you were forced—”
He weaved away from the follow-up straight that nearly caught him in the left shoulder.
“—into a life of crime”—Sam swung Gram forward while coating the blade in Sword Aura to repel the left uppercut that was far too swift for him to dodge—“and I’m hoping that reminding you that you were once the country’s symbol of pride—”
With Sword Aura growing around its enchanted blade, Sam swung Gram down on Disaster Joe’s chest.
“—will help you remember that you were once one of the good guys!”
Disaster Joe didn’t bother to reply to Sam’s appeal. Nor did he dodge Sam’s attack. Disaster Joe allowed Gram’s blade to slice into his arms which he raised to defend his upper body. Then, with blood splatter momentarily impairing Sam’s view, the villain who’d been a boxer for his entire professional career used a kick to catch the hero off-guard.
“Holy—”
Pure instinct made Sam raise his left arm forward, allowing Bulwark’s near-transparent shield to repel Disaster Joe’s sneak attack. Unfortunately, Disaster Joe struck Sam with such force that the villain broke the hero’s left forearm and shattered his shield with that one kick.
“—Styx!”
You should have dodged, lame-brain, Chiron chided.
A similar reprimand appeared from Triple-A; reminding Sam that his concussion had only just healed and now the bones of his arm needed repairing.
“Ugh…okay…I realize…my mistake…” Sam shuffled away from the villain who hadn’t once responded to his provocations. “Didn’t know you kicked as hard as you punch… I’m sorry you broke bad, Joe…”
Sam tried to create distance between them, but Disaster Joe wouldn’t let him go. A single, gigantic stride forward was all the ten-foot bruiser needed to get back within range. Disaster Joe’s right fist might even have smashed into Sam’s chest too if it weren’t for the crow-shaped shadow that sliced at Joe’s forearm, diverting the direction of his punch away from its intended target.
“Nice”—Sam’s eyes widened in delight—“Shadow Crow for the save!”
A bird with feathers as black as night soared overhead. It circled Disaster Joe, distracting the villain long enough for a shadowy figure to appear behind him and stab at his exposed back with the knives he held in each hand.
“Cro~~ow!” the villain roared.
Disaster Joe whirled around to grab at Crow-Man, but the veteran hero proved as slippery as the night he and Sam first met. He ducked underneath Disaster Joe’s bear hug and sliced at the villain’s ankles with his feather-shaped knives.
“So damn cool,” Sam whispered.
Crow-Man rolled out of Disaster Joe’s reach while his Shadow Crow flew into the villain’s line of sight, obstructing Disaster Joe’s view long enough for Crow-Man to dive back in and slice at the villain’s gut with his knives.
This pattern of the Shadow Crow stealing Disaster Joe’s aggro while Crow-Man sliced at him with his knives repeated, the blood leaking from Disaster Joe’s numerous cuts, until, finally, the villain wobbled, wobbled some more, and then toppled over…and Disaster Joe didn’t rise again.
Sam—who’d been watching Crow-Man’s fight while fending off some D-list villains who’d rushed at him after Disaster Joe was distracted—couldn’t help but feel admiration for his old ally, the only delta-level hero to break into the top fifty rankings of this winter’s hero charts.
“Do I look that cool when I’m kicking butt?”
As he asked this question, a villain with four arms got lucky and socked him in the jaw.
Chiron laughed.
You’re about ten years too early to be comparing yourself to Crow-Man.
Sam wanted to refute Chiron’s words but didn’t get a chance. His last opponent was already toppling over thanks to the feather-shaped knife embedded in his back.
“Oh…hey, man. You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
“I’m fine.” Crow-Man glanced down at the garish wound peeking out of the hole in his suit. “Miracle Girl patched me up.”
One last inmate was left standing between Sam and Crow-man, his gaze drifting between the two heroes. In the end, he chose to rush at Sam as if saying he’d rather face him than fight Crow-Man.
“Wrong choice, dude!”
Sam didn’t have to hit the villain so hard, but he had street cred to uphold. His was a punch fueled by life force too. ‘Mortal Fist’ smashed into the villain’s gut, sending him crashing into a wall many yards away.
To Sam’s delight, many awed gazes followed that last attack, ending with wary looks aimed at him. It was exactly the reaction he hoped to create.
“You’ve gotten stronger,” Crow-Man noted.
“Says the guy who took out Disaster Joe without too much trouble.” Sam’s gaze drifted over to Disaster Joe’s unconscious form. “How’d you knock him out so fast?”
Crow-Man raised a feather-shaped throwing knife to Sam’s eye level. “Some of my blades are coated with—”
Without warning, Crow-Man flung his throwing knife at Sam.
“Argh!” Sam screamed.
No, Crow-Man’s knife didn’t hit Sam. It pierced into the back of the hand of the villain whose arm had wrapped around Sam’s neck before he realized the danger. Sam had screamed because Mr. Crimson just bit his neck.
Kid! Chiron yelled.
The damage was already done though, and Mr. Crimson released Sam, pushing him toward Crow-Man with the confidence of a puppeteer about to start his show.
“Hades’ balls!” With his hand covering the bite mark on his neck, Sam turned around—his eyes widened at the sight of his blood coating Mr. Crimson’s lips. “Styx!”
“I would like you to do me a favor, Herculean.” A grin of pure evil appeared on Mr. Crimson’s face, the kind that reached the corners of his cheeks. “Kill Crow-Man for me.”