Read The Rules of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 1) for Free Online Page B

of all supervillains’ in Falconcrest City, and that’s me!”
    Everyone looked at me.
    “You’re a supervillain?” the Typewriter asked, poking my stomach with the end of his cane.
    “Damned straight!” I proclaimed, blood dripping down my chin. “I am Merciless ! The supervillain without a shred of mercy!”
    They all looked at me like I was out of my mind.
    “ Still redundant .”
    “Oh reeaaallly?” the Typewriter asked, snorting.
    “The man dressed like... whatever the hell you’re supposed to be dressed as... should not be questioning my credentials.” I turned my nose up at him. “I mean, can you even see in that thing?”
    One of the mobsters beside me looked nervous. “I think I saw this guy on the news. He killed the Ice Cream Man and robbed the First National Bank.”
    “Thank you!” I said, trying to think up an excuse. “Uh, I killed the Ice Cream Man because he was moseying in on my action.”
    “Moseying?” The Typewriter asked.
    “Oh you are not going to comment on my way of speaking—after your intro,” I snapped.
    “He has a point,” the man in the demon mask said.
    “Silence!” The Typewriter turned to me. “You may be a supervillain but you have removed one of the greats of supervillainy. For that, I sentence you to death !”
    The man in the demon mask grabbed me by the cloak, pulling me up before wrapping his arms around my neck.
    “Meep,” I said, staring.
     
     

Chapter Four
Where I Recruit My First Henchpersons
     
    The man in the demon mask lifted me up, intending to either strangle me or break my neck. I wasn’t sure which. Remembering I could turn intangible, I slipped out of his hands and passed through the floor.
    Levitating up behind him, I became physical long enough to punch the base of his spine…only to draw my hand back in agony. The man was pure muscle, not an ounce of fat on his body.
    “Ow!” I hissed, shaking my fist in the air.
    “ You don’t have super-strength, remember ?”
    “I remember!”
    The man in the demon mask spun around and punched me, sending me flying backwards into a nearby table. Thankfully, my quasi-invulnerability seemed strong enough so it just felt like every bone in my body was broken.
    “Farewell, Sweet Prince!” the Typewriter shouted, aiming his cane at me.
    “What the hell are you on?”
    I jumped to the side the moment I saw him bringing the cane around. Its brilliant beam missed me by a hair’s breadth, striking the ruined table instead. The damaged piece of furniture disappeared along with a substantial chunk of the floor, leaving a gaping hole instead.
    “It is just wrong a doofus like the Typewriter has a weapon like that,” I grunted, trying to find cover. A couple of the business suit wearing henchmen charged at me, perhaps intending to hold me down for their boss.
    The Typewriter fired again, not bothering to aim, and hit one of his henchmen instead. The man disappeared in a flash of golden light, causing the other henchmen to back away. As I struggled to find a weapon that would give me an advantage against him, I remembered I had power over fire and cold.
    “Idiot,” I cursed myself.
    Lifting up a hand to set the Typewriter on fire, my wrist was grabbed by the man in the demon mask who started punching me with my knuckles.
    Yes, I was being forced to punch myself in the face.
    Each blow felt like a mallet, making my head spin and my vision blur. I couldn’t concentrate enough to use my powers, the pain was so intense. The man in the demon mask wrapped his arm underneath my neck and his palm over my forehead. The hold was so tight he’d just have to make the barest of motions to snap my neck.
    “He’s yours, Typewriter,” the man in the demon mask said. “He fought well, give him a clean death.”
    I closed my eyes and focused on causing the interior of the cane to freeze over. Hopefully, the Typewriter wouldn’t notice. If this didn’t work, I was about to have the shortest supervillain career of