《Level Up Hero!》Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire, Part 1

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Sam held Thunder’s hand, his fingers tightening on hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear.

Thunder’s other hand rose to his face. Not to slap him for his perceived failure, but to caress his cheek. It was a touch of warmth in an otherwise cold afternoon where the stench of defeat seemed to prevail in the air.

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” she whispered back. “Maeve made the choice any hero worth their salt would have...”

Thunder stifled a cough.

“Do you want me to—”

“Don’t worry...” Thunder glanced toward the EMTs on either side of her stretcher. “These guys will take good care of me.”

The grave looks on the EMTs own faces did nothing to ease Sam’s worries.

“You look pretty beat, Sam... Go rest...” Thunder’s hand tightened on his. “Then you pick up the trail... find Farsight and save her.”

As the EMTs carried Thunder into the back of the second ambulance, Sam’s shoulders sagged. She’d just reminded him of Maeve’s last words, and his mind drifted back to that moment less than twenty minutes ago when Maeve fell into his arms.

“Find my little sister,” Maeve had told Sam while he held her. “Find Farsight... She can tell you her half of the prophecy...”

Blood from the poisoned wound in her belly had gushed out of her, coating Sam’s hands in red.

WARNING! The system has identified the poison that has infected target [Red Weaver]. [Kiss of Achlys] is a deadly poison that paralyses the infected, eventually leading to death via respiratory failure. A tiny dose of [Hydra Venom] is the only known remedy for this poison. It must be ingested by the target within thirty minutes of infection.

Then, out of habit, green light had flared out of Sam’s hands.

ALERT! [Healing Hand (Δ)] cannot counteract the poison in [Red Weaver]. The power level is too low.

Maeve had wiped away the tears pooling underneath Sam’s eyes with a bloody finger.

“Look at you, crying for someone you’ve just met...” She’d given him a warm smile he didn’t think he deserved. “You’re exactly what Sarah said you were... a good guy... perhaps more... This isn’t on...”

Maeve’s hand fell to her side as the rest of her went limp.

ALERT! Healing failed. Target [Red Weaver] has fallen into a coma.

“I... I...” Sam couldn’t say what he wanted to say almost as if the word ‘Sorry’ had lodged itself in his throat and refused to come out.

Sam had heard the laughter behind him, and with anger rushing to his brain, he lashed out at the Trickster only to find the shimmering sparks that came whenever the villain performed his substitution trick. He’d been replaced by a trash bin that smelled the same way Sam had felt at that moment — shitty.

Then the sirens reached Sam’s ears, and with the police cars appearing on both sides of Hicks street, the Trickster showed off his vanishing act to Sam and Thunder. He’d even taken the cannibal Boar with him, saving it from Thunder’s righteous fury.

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With a bow and a taunt of, “If only you didn’t exist, Mr. Archer slash Mr. Healer, perhaps the Red Weaver wouldn’t be dying now,” the Trickster and his pet horror vanished, their forms carried by the wind like they were nothing more than mirages in the desert.

Now, as he watched the ambulances take Thunder and Maeve away — which in Maeve’s case was probably ten minutes too late — Sam recalled how he screamed after the villain. He remembered how Thunder had held him back before she too fell limp in his arms.

“Godsdammit,” he whispered.

Sam felt the weight of failure tighten around his chest. He tasted the sourness of defeat on his tongue. It was not a good feeling to have, not for a guy who thought he was finally moving forward and shaking off the loser vibe that hung over him like a gloomy cloud all of this past year.

Then Sam felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face one of the wardens who’d been gracious enough to allow him and Thunder a few moments.

The man in the crisp gray suit and fedora — the typical Warden attire — had short-cropped salt and pepper hair and a villain’s mustache on his fair-skinned face. There were crinkles around his eyes which were blue like the ocean on a cloudless afternoon.

He introduced himself as Warden Captain Matt Malarkey and then offered Sam his hand.

“I’m the lead investigator in charge of the Trickster case,” he explained, his gaze taking the length and breadth of Sam in. “You’re a hard man to get a hold of, Mr. Shepard. Or do you prefer Healing La—”

“—Nope,” Sam cut the warden off before he could finish saying that embarrassing moniker out loud. “Shepard’s fine... or you could just call me Sam...”

“Sam,” Warden Malarkey repeated. “So, mind telling me what happened here?”

Although he did ask nicely, the warden had said it with a face that told Sam he didn’t have any choice but comply. Still, Sam hesitated to say anything because he thought there were far too many people within earshot.

Sam glanced left and then right, noticing the growing number of civilian onlookers standing behind the police barriers that had just been set up. No doubt there were reporters among them, and he really didn’t want his face plastered over tomorrow’s edition of the New York Times, or worse, the Herald.

“Is there somewhere we can—”

“—Follow me.” It was Warden Malarkey’s turn to cut Sam off. “Let’s go find some privacy.”

He led Sam back up the steps to Maeve’s mansion, waded past the forensics team who were just beginning to set up in the front hall, but then halted so he could point toward the bloody mess on the floor.

“Do you want pieces of that?” he asked.

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Sam stifled the bile that rose up in his throat before shaking his head. Honestly, it would have been hard to blame him if he did hurl his breakfast onto the cracked floor because the sight of the mangled remains of cannibalized Boar would have made anyone’s stomach churn.

“No,” he reiterated in a steadier voice. “Thunder did all the fighting, sir... I was just her backup.”

Sam didn’t want to lie to a warden because he’d heard that they were trained to detect falsehoods, but admitting that he was strong enough to fight against delta-level Boars would mean more questions he couldn’t answer.

Warden Malarkey gazed into Sam’s face for a long moment before nodding his head curtly.

“Just as well,” he urged Sam to follow him, “Unregistered gifted aren’t allowed to lay claim to loot. That violates the UN Gifted Registration Act of 1977.”

Sam followed Warden Malarkey back into the dining room where he’d first heard the broken prophecy. It reminded him of Maeve and how she thanked him for the compassion he’d shown her elder sister.

He felt his heart grow heavy with frustration. I was too late to save Maeve just like I was too late for Mrs. Peters...

“Clear the room,” Warden Malarkey ordered.

The wardens and technicians who’d set up their laptops and forensic material on Maeve’s dining table cleared out quickly. Only one other person remained.

She was a female warden with a pretty face and short raven hair peeking out of the fedora atop her head. Even seated, Sam could tell she was tall. The tight fit of her gray suit revealed a well-built body.

Sam recognized her, although he couldn’t tell from where.

“Alright, we’ve got privacy.” the warden sat on the nearest seat and gestured for Sam to sit opposite him. “Now, I’d like to hear about what happened.”

Sam glanced over to the female warden who was in the midst of setting up a video camera that she’d trained on Sam.

“Bethany’s my apprentice,” Warden Malarkey explained.

Warden Bethany gave Sam an encouraging nod. It was unlike the stoic warden character Sam had often heard about from other heroes.

“We’re ready to record, sir,” Bethany said.

Her voice, Sam could swear he’d heard it before. Although Warden Malarkey’s insistence that Sam begin his tale kept Sam from solving the puzzle that was at the tip of his tongue.

So Sam told them what had happened, how he and Thunder were out to visit her friend, Maeve — another lie — just in time to witness the Trickster and his horrors breaking into Maeve’s home.

“You’re saying this was just random coincidence?” Warden Malarkey pressed.

“Um, yeah,” Sam shrugged.

“You’ve never dealt with precogs before, have you?” Warden Malarkey asked.

Sam shook his head.

Warden Malarkey leaned back in his chair. “I’ve learned there’s no such thing as coincidence whenever a precog is involved.”

Sam frowned. He didn’t like the implication in the senior warden’s tone. “Look, we honestly didn’t come here expecting all this to happen...”

And that was the truth, and possibly the only straightforward answer Sam would give out over the rest of the interview.

He continued to tell his tale, often omitting his own role during the battle, such as lying about who actually took down the barrier.

“Maeve did that,” he lied.

As for who’d messed up the mansion, Sam couldn’t very well say he was the one who’d crashed through all those walls, and so he blamed Thunder for that.

“Thunder fought off the Boars...” he lied again.

Sam felt the sweat drip from his brow. Sweat coated his palms. He was definitely not used to lying to authority figures.

“Tell them it was me,” Thunder had whispered into his ear when he carried her over to the EMTs who’d just arrived. “I’ll take the heat...”

Sam didn’t like the idea of sullying her record with this failure that was mostly his, but he knew how important it was to remain in the shadow of obscurity. At least until he was strong enough that it didn’t matter if anyone found out that he was a hero who could actually level up.

“You didn’t fight at all?” Warden Malarkey asked, his words dripping with skepticism.

Sam felt like this was a trap. After all, the warden knew that Sam had quit and was currently an unregistered gifted, which meant, “I can’t fight villains... that would make me—”

“—a vigilante,” Warden Malarkey finished for him. “And we don’t like vigilantes...”

Warden Malarkey’s disposition had changed, and whatever warmth he’d shown Sam at the beginning had vanished, replaced by the icy stare of a man who was skeptical of Sam’s tale.

“Sam,” Warden Malarkey leaned forward, his face stern. “Why are you satyr-shitting me?”

---

I'll write this here since most people don't check the author's notes. XD BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! Level Up Hero is increasing our early chapter release on Patreon. XD

Sidekick Tier - up to 4 chaps a week, which means readers in this tier will be a week ahead of regular readers.

Hero Tier - up to 6 chaps a week.

Argonaut Tier - up to 8 chapters a week!

Check us out on Patreon if you're starved for more content or just want to support the book and its hard working author!!! XD

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