Chapter 287 Great.

Chapter 287: 287 Great.

Being overzealous and bombastic was fine; there was absolutely nothing wrong with chewing the scenery, provided the guy actually knew the score.

One of the absolute worst kinds of heroes in this business were the ones who got completely carried away by their own adrenaline during a staged fight.

The only ones worse were the bitter purists who deeply resented hiring a corporate villain league to boost their ratings.

They always tried to actively push the envelope off-script, which almost always led to deadly, uninsurable results.

"So, No Whey," I began, leaning forward on my elbows.

"That is my registered trademark name!"

"...It sure is. What exactly kind of kinetic encounter are you actively looking for here?"

No Whey cocked his thumb-like head. "What kind?"

"Yeah. What is the specific PR goal you are looking to get out of a highly publicized fight with my villains?"

"Fame!" he boomed. "Do you know what the absolute greatest, most insidious problem is with the modern world today?"

"I mean, I could probably draw up a pretty comprehensive list..."

"Fat children!" No Whey declared, pointing a thick, accusing finger at the ceiling.

"That is... probably on one of the lists. Sure," I said slowly. "And how do you—"

"For too long!" he continued, plowing straight over my question. I decided to just sit back and let him get it out of his system. "Yes! For far too long, the children and young people of this great nation have been aggressively cooped up on their comfortable couches!

"Playing their stationary video games and watching their glowing screens and their YouTubes and their Net-Flixes! Couch potatoes! Slackers! Gorging themselves on nothing but processed sugar, terrible chemicals, and corporate slop! But no longer!"

He declared, violently rising to his feet and pointing skyward in absolute triumph. The surrounding diners actively stopped eating to stare.

"No longer will the children of America be hopelessly consigned to eating from the horrific trough of weakness and Nestlé! For when I miraculously gained my awesome, god-like physique, I realized that I could actively inspire an entire generation to put down the potato chips and the street drugs, and pick up the heavy dumbbells! Yes!" No Whey shouted.

He dropped into a sudden, explosive lat-spread pose. He flexed his massive torso with such catastrophic, explosive force that his tight white wifebeater literally detonated off his body, shredding into tiny white rags that fluttered down onto the table.

"For when the youth witness the awesome, undeniable power of these perfectly sculpted muscles! These almighty glutes and vascular gains! They will finally realize the glorious wonders of good cardiovascular health! Balanced, macro-heavy diets! And they will actively seek out their physical peeeeeeeak!"

I stared completely blankly at the half-naked hero for a long, quiet second.

Well... I definitely had to give the guy credit for sheer, unadulterated ambition. How many modern teenagers would actually be inspired to hit the gym by a screaming, thumb-headed meathead was a bit up for debate, but hell, there had been significantly weirder viral trends. I gave him solid points for raw passion, if not basic common sense.

And hey, if his grand crusade completely failed, it was absolutely no skin off my nose. I was highly paid to fight and dramatically lose to capes on camera, not to successfully bring down the national youth obesity rates.

And though No Whey seemed completely unhinged and overzealous, he was definitely looking to put on a theatrical performance. And a kid-friendly one, at that? He’d probably at least actively try not to accidentally crush my villain’s skull between his thighs during the scuffle.

"Alright," I said, brushing a piece of shredded cotton off my placemat. "In that case, we’re probably looking to set up a public scenario that offers you a massive chance to really show off those muscles of yours. Let you flex, throw some heavy objects around, and look unstoppable."

"An opportunity I absolutely welcome with open arms!" No Whey declared mightily, still flexing.

"Fantastic," I said flatly. "Normally, for a bruiser build like yours, I’d suggest matching you up against our resident psychic. It creates a really nice brains-versus-brawn cinematic dichotomy. But if you’re looking to get highly physical and smash through obstacles, it seems like raw ice would be the ideal choice for a visual contrast. Glacia?"

"It would be my absolute honor to have my frozen constructs dramatically defeated by this hero," she said serenely, her expression giving away absolutely nothing.

I nodded. "Great. We’ll deploy heavy ice golems. Massive frozen walls. The whole nine yards. Can you reliably break your way out of being completely frozen in a block of solid ice?"

"Of course!" No Whey declared, violently pounding his bare chest. "When I have successfully warmed up my core temperature through extreme physical effort, the raw, radiating heat of my metabolic body can easily melt any icy barrier!"

I nodded politely, making an immediate mental note to order Glacia to severely tone down her freezing output if she did envelop him in a frosty coating.

Heroes with this specific psychological profile had a massive tendency to fatally overestimate their skills outside their core power sets, and the absolute last PR disaster my league needed was a D-list hero dying of hypothermia on live television because he thought his biceps doubled as a space heater.

"Great," I said. "As for the scenario, I’m thinking a highly public, standard daytime robbery would play incredibly well. A downtown bank or a jewelry exchange is always good for ratings. Big concrete walls for you to bust down. Heavy vaults to throw around. Plenty of high-definition security cameras and news choppers. It’s the ideal setup for your brand. I’ll scout a location."

"Then you’ll officially take the contract?" Roger asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Sounds highly doable. We’ll hash out the exact structural details and the backend merchandise points later. But a job like this won’t be cheap," I warned him.

"Absolutely no problem on our end!" Roger said, beaming as he spread his hands wide. "We’ve gotten plenty of corporate sponsors all lined up! Lots of massive sports supplement companies have eagerly jumped on this campaign. No Whey’s got high-six-figure brand deals coming in from all corners, and his older brother is a massive financial supporter of his heroic work!"

"Great," I said, just in time for the bubbling Neptunian waitress to return with our dinner. She began aggressively laying the heavy plates of fish out in front of us, the smell of fresh salmon filling the cramped air. I rubbed my hands together eagerly.

Alright. Things were officially going my way.