Accidental Villainy 2

“So, what’s your name?” I asked even as I observed her carefully. Luckily, I was giving her an interview, so she wouldn’t suspect I had already realized her superpowers. 

Good, as the secret identity was an important feature, and supers tend to be sensitive when their true identity was revealed. I didn’t want to annoy a super …  especially when the super in question had super strength, but not confident enough to actually use it. 

“T-Tara,” she stammered as she sat on the stool, looking everywhere but my face as a blush slowly covered her face. Shy, far too shy than I expected. And, as much as I would have liked to believe that it was about my handsome face, her focus on the dirty state of the bar suggested she was not familiar with such rundown places. 

Unfortunately, my ability of super observation had its limits. I could see her discomfort, but I was far too unfamiliar with her general attitude to derive anything more. 

I just hoped that she wasn’t one of those over-enthusiastic vigilantes trying to stamp out crime the moment she discovered her powers. A vigilante like that could destroy the bar easily as she looked at drugs or other criminals, uncaring of the costs. 

Hardly something I could afford. 

“And you can call me Jason. So, you’re interested in being a waitress,” I said, and she nodded. Rather than continuing immediately, I started cleaning the glass at the same time, like I wasn’t paying attention, using the chance to think a bit more. 

Admittedly, I was hoping that she would get bored and leave once she realized the bar was empty. It was what she would do if she were a vigilante, freeing me from making a decision. 

People almost underestimated the value of silence. 

However, as I waited, it was getting clear that she had no intention of actually leaving. So, either she wasn’t here as a vigilante, or she was playing a longer game. “Tell me about yourself,” I said. I couldn’t afford to send her away without asking for her permission. 

“Oh,” she murmured as she took a deep breath, reaching to fix her glass in what was no doubt a nervous tick. “I have just finished the first year of college, and looking for a summer job to make some extra money,” she murmured, clearly avoiding an important topic. 

I had a feeling it had something to do with why she was treating the world like fragile glass. 

“Any experience in waiting tables?” I asked even as I turned my back to put the glass back on the shelf while observing her through the cracked bar mirror —the place was really a dump, after all.

“No, but I’m a quick learner and a hard worker,” she gasped rapidly despite her earlier shyness, coming across as practiced, suggesting that my place wasn’t the first location she had visited. It was good, as if she had been talking with other places, it reduced the chances of her being an enthusiastic vigilante searching for criminals to beat up. 

Then, she tensed. “And, I’m just looking for part-time work. A few days at most.” 

That almost managed to earn a chuckle from me. I could see where she was going. While the businesses tested their employees for superpowers, the test wasn’t exactly cheap. 

Not worth it for a part-time employee. 

I sighed in amusement. It seemed like an obvious solution, but there was a reason I didn’t use it. It was a solution that everyone could think of… and as a consequence, more discerning people occasionally checked people desperate to avoid the test. 

Inevitably getting caught. 

Of course, her desperation as she said that didn’t surprise me either. 

Thanks to the constant super battles and the resulting destructions, the economy of the town weren’t exactly booming. The larger cities like New York survived better, but the smaller ones in the midlands, like our Sunset City — aptly named — struggled. 

Funnily enough, even the construction sector was in a downturn, because only a few private companies were allowed to clean up after superhero battles, and they did so through extremely advanced technology developed by intelligence-based superheroes. No local contractor could match their expertise and their prices. 

With the economy in tatters, even the shittier jobs as waiting tables were in high demand, with limited opportunities for temporary workers. Especially temporary workers in the form of shy, plain-looking girls with no experience. 

“Oh, really?” I asked, even as I started pondering about a dangerous thought. I should just tell her that I tested even the temporary workers, which would make her turn and leave. 

But, looking at the disgusting, dirty bar, I had a different thought. Why not put the desperation of a super to good use and ask her to help with the cleaning while I handled the tasks I needed to do outside. If she was as good of a worker as she was desperate, maybe we could even make the bar open faster than I expected. 

The biggest problem was her superpowers. 

I had precious little idea about the full range of her abilities other than the fact that she had some kind of super-strength. She likely had some kind of resistance or toughness, as it was common knowledge that except for very rare cases, those kinds of abilities appeared together. 

Based on her expression, I was almost sure that she didn’t have any kind of super sense, but there was always a chance that she could turn them on under certain circumstances. 

Still, the unclear nature of the limits of her strength was not the biggest question. The problem was the tendency supers had to intervene with things, and someone poking around in the rough part of the town using my bar as a base was very dangerous. 

From a fair perspective, their god complex was understandable, the ability to throw a bus into orbit was a good reason to nurse a god complex, but their relative rightfulness would hardly help my case if the cute girl in front of me decided to smash a drug dealer in front of my bar. 

Just the collateral damage would be enough to put me out of the business, and, moreover, I would be lucky if the local gangs didn’t decide I was working with heroes.

So, despite the amusing possibility of having a desperate super working as a waitress in my newly established bar, I would reject her. 

After she helped with my cleaning. I would still pay her, of course. “How about this, I have to go out and handle some critical purchases. Meanwhile, you stay and clean the place as much as you can handle. Once I return, I’ll make a decision to hire you for a week based on how thorough your work is. Deal?” 

A smile bloomed on her face. “Deal,” she gasped, her expression an open book even without my power. She nodded hesitantly, while I was already planning on my exact purchases. 

Of course, there was a reason I could trust her … there was literally nothing worthy of being stolen in the place. Even the cutthroat agent just signed everything away to me for free after some bargaining … as it would have cost him money to throw them out. 

However, she didn’t even bother to ask about the pay. She was really naive. 

While she started cleaning, I left the bar, and instead went for a shopping trip.

And, while my superpower might be useless in a fight, it was quite useful when it came to picking up the fruits and spices I needed for the cocktails. Of course, I didn’t expect to be selling a lot of cocktails at first, so rather than piling it up, I picked up a few select materials to make a dozen common cocktails … and three signature ones. 

Unfortunately, it was much more difficult to afford alcohol, especially in the quality I needed. Naturally, I was not buying everything needed to stock the place. A supplier would soon arrive with a beer keg and other cheap alcohol, but I wanted to have a few bottles I could use for my signature cocktails instead. 

My shopping took almost four hours. Hopefully, Tara had made some progress with the cleaning to give me enough hope that I could start inviting customers tomorrow. 

“Or earlier,” I murmured as I opened the door, only to freeze. The reason was simple. The customer area was absolutely spotless, so much so that I thought that I was in a new place. 

It was a superhuman effort … literally. I realized she was even more gullible than I had first thought. The speed she cleaned was enough to reveal her super strength. 

Even the floor color was different, an impossible feat to achieve without an industrial washer — or, it seemed, super strength. 

Fascinating, I thought, wondering whether I should reconsider my idea of kicking her out after a couple days. She was clearly more useful than I expected… I already had superpowers … what was one more. 

Then, I took a step and saw her cleaning the kitchen … wearing just a bra, a poor article of clothing that was struggling to keep back the perkiest breasts I had ever seen — and failing.

And, just like that, my determination to keep her around got much stronger. 

Was that stupid to sneak to a super, certainly … but it was an easy stupidity to commit with my pants getting tight, reminding me that I had been running around desperately since I had awakened, unable to entertain any female company.

It was time to test just how good my new power reading the body language…