The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

Chapter 306: 306 | The Answer Was No

I watched her walk past Felicity’s pair without stopping, past Caden and Marco with a glance that suggested their argument needed resolution before their time expired, and past Rina, who had somehow ended up working with Lyra.

Rina’s white hair bent over the page while her purple eyes tracked the numbers with more confidence than she’d shown in any combat context.

Budget analysis didn’t shoot back. It also didn’t require her to apologize for doing it correctly, which probably helped.

When Castillo reached Petra, she stopped again. Longer this time. She read Petra’s work from over her shoulder without comment, and the silence that followed carried enough weight that I could feel it from three tables away.

"Lang," Castillo said finally.

Petra looked up with the composed patience of someone who expected to be praised and was already calculating the appropriate humble response for when the praise arrived.

"Your analysis identifies all three vulnerabilities correctly," Castillo continued in the same neutral register, "includes two additional structural concerns I didn’t embed in the template, and proposes solutions that reference specific IHL regulatory provisions by section number." She paused. "How long did this take you?"

"Four minutes," Petra said.

"Did you learn anything?" Castillo asked.

The question landed like a slap disguised as a handshake. Petra’s emerald eyes widened by a fraction, and for one unguarded moment she looked like a student who had been so focused on performing excellence that she’d forgotten to consider whether the exercise had any purpose beyond demonstrating her superiority. Her pen paused over the planner. Her mouth opened, then closed.

She had nothing. She’d solved the problem faster and more thoroughly than anyone else in the room, and somehow the answer to whether she’d learned anything from doing it was no.

The Oracle Feed offered no commentary. It didn’t need to. The answer was already visible in the way Petra’s fingers tightened around her pen, the way her carefully composed expression wavered at the edges before she pulled it back.

"I," Petra started, then stopped.

"Next time," Castillo said, "try working with a partner. The exercise is designed to generate discussion, not demonstration. Discussion teaches you things that your parents’ consultants cannot."

She walked away. Petra sat very still, her pen motionless against the planner, her jaw working around something she couldn’t quite articulate. For exactly two seconds, she looked almost human.

Then the mask came back, and Petra Lang returned to her notes with the composure of someone who had never been publicly corrected in her entire life and intended to process the experience privately, probably in a cold shower at midnight.

Castillo returned to the front of the room and leaned against the edge of the table. She crossed her arms loosely, and the blazer shifted to reveal the watch on her left wrist more fully, the face catching afternoon light. Her brown eyes moved across every face at the table.

"What you just completed represents approximately thirty minutes of work that an agency operations manager does before their first coffee of the morning. Every day. For the duration of their career." She let that land. "The contracts that govern your future employment will contain language designed to protect the agency’s investment in you, not to protect you. The sponsors who pay for your costume will own the visual identity of your hero brand. The insurance companies that cover your field operations will impose restrictions on how and where you can deploy your Aspects based on actuarial risk models you have never seen."

She picked up her mug again. Took a slow sip. Set it down.

"Heroes who understand these structures negotiate better contracts, maintain longer careers, and retain more control over their professional identity. Heroes who do not understand them become the case studies I teach to next year’s class."

Caden raised his hand.

"Yes."

"You said sponsors own the visual identity of our hero brand. Does that mean if I design my costume and a company sponsors me, they own the design?"

"The standard sponsorship agreement grants the sponsor co-ownership of the costume’s visual identity for the duration of the contract. This means they can reproduce your costume’s likeness in merchandise, advertising, and promotional materials without additional compensation beyond the sponsorship fee. Some agreements include exclusivity clauses preventing you from modifying your costume design without sponsor approval."

"That’s insane."

"That’s industry standard." Castillo’s warmth didn’t diminish, but it acquired an edge. "And it’s exactly the kind of clause that first-year heroes sign without reading because they’re too excited about getting paid to wear a costume to consider what they’re giving away in exchange."

The room went quiet. Twenty teenagers who had spent the morning dreaming about hero names and dramatic entrances suddenly confronted the reality that the profession they’d sacrificed their youth to pursue operated on the same transactional mechanics as every other industry, just with more explosions and better PR.

Castillo smiled. This time it reached her eyes.

"Welcome to the bureaucratic side of being a hero. Page three of your folders contains your first assignment. Due Thursday. Read it tonight. Come to class Thursday with questions."

She picked up her tablet, retrieved her mug, and walked toward the door with the posture of someone whose work was done and whose evening involved wine that cost more than our textbooks.

She paused at the threshold and turned back.

"One more thing. For those of you who believe this course exists to distract you from your real training, consider this." Her brown eyes found mine across the table. Held. "The average career length of a licensed hero who handles their own contracts is four point two years. The average career length of a hero whose agency provides competent operational support is eleven point seven years. The difference between those numbers is not talent. It is not Aspect rarity. It is not combat capability." She lifted the mug in a gesture that could have been a toast. "It is paperwork. I’ll see you Thursday."

The door closed behind her.

The room exhaled.

"I’m going to study so hard for this class," Percy said quietly, his pen already moving.