Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine

Chapter 311: R-Rated Heroes

Under the Hero Agency, registered heroes were split into two distinct realities.The ones everyone knew, loved, and plastered on their bedroom walls were the Pro Heroes.

For them, the F to A-tier was basically the grind.

F-tiers were essentially glorified delivery drivers with superpowers, hustling for pennies. A-tiers were local celebrities with regional fast-food sponsorships and decent name recognition.

But the S-tiers? They were national icons.

Popstar superheroes like Sonic Angel, or walking weapons of mass destruction like The Peak... well, according to public ratings. They held huge VOD contracts, launched makeup lines, and sold out stadium tours.

Above them sat the SS (X-tier) and SSS (Z-tier), who were treated as global deities. Their world-shattering battles were broadcasted exclusively on Pay-Per-View. If a Z-tier hero leveled an entire city block, the Hero Agency’s PR team would spin it as an "urban renewal project" and release a limited-edition merch line to commemorate it.

Then, there were the R-Rated Heroes.

They were the Agency’s trash bins.

If a metasapien’s ability was deemed too violent, too grotesque, or explicitly sexual, the Hero Agency slapped them with an R-Rating. They were strictly banned from daytime television, public billboards, and PG-13 merchandise. Their only monetization options were late-night pay-per-view deathmatches, sketchy adult platforms like FansOnly and HeroHub, or acting as PR scapegoats when the Agency needed someone to take the blame.

And that was exactly where the pink goddess hovering above Atlantic City fell.

"Holy shit, that’s Blissfire!"

Scott yelled over the roaring engine.

To think the system was capable of such a legendary pull in a place like Atlantic City, where the superheroes were usually either normal, sex addicts, drug addicts, porn addicts, nude addicts, or gambling addicts.

Maya smiled brightly, her eyes locked on the sky.

"She’s here!"

"Huh?"

Scott cast a slightly surprised glance at her. He hadn’t expected Maya to be that excited to see her, but then again, the R-Rated hero did just save their lives from a volley of assassin drone fire.

High above, a swarm of media drones hummed to life and circled the flaming heroine. A helicopter from Breaking AC hovered nearby, the reporter inside shouting into his mic to be heard over the rotor blades.

[Residents of Atlantic City, look to the skies! Blissfire has arrived on the scene! What incredible power will the city’s favorite heroine use today?!]

Down on the streets, the large cheering crowd went wild and instantly split into arguments.

"She’s gonna use the Plasma Wave!"

"Heck yeah, I put fifty bucks on it!"

"I put fifty bucks on that ass!"

"No way, man! Look at the heat distortion! It’s definitely gonna be the Nova Burst!"

Across social media, live feeds were exploding with lots of comments popping up by the second:

[OMG BLISSFIRE IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL I’M CUMMING UGGHH ????✨]

ㄴ[Don’t you mean "I’m crying" brochacho? ????]

[Absolute queen!! Trash those drones!]

[STEP ON ME MOMMY UGH THOSE PINK FLAMES ARE SO HOT ????????????]

[Unfiltered, unrated, and unmatched. Best fucking hero in AC hands down.]

ㄴ[You know how her powers work tho... ????]

ㄴ[That’s just a rumor bro ????]

Blissfire looked down at the adoration and smiled.

"Calm down, people of Atlantic City, and watch!"

Like a rumble of thunder, she shot straight down toward Killcam like a pink meteor as she melted the cold air with her overwhelming heat.

Up on the building ledge, Killcam didn’t panic.

The masked, blonde woman adjusted her jetpack and smoothly slid a long, glowing red sniper bullet into her bulky, high-tech weapon... the Flash Sniper. She raised the heavy rifle, aiming straight at Blissfire, who was moving so fast she was almost a unseen to the naked eye.

But Killcam wasn’t using normal eyes.

Her cybernetic camera eye allowed her to perceive the world in slow motion, which was how she had accurately tracked and fired missiles at Maya earlier... and Maya moved at an even faster speed than Blissfire.

Now, though, she didn’t need the destructive force of a missile. She needed precision.

Enhancing her camera vision by syncing it directly with the camera-type scope of her Flash Sniper, Killcam locked onto her target.

"Sa oled surnud..."

She bit hard on her burning cigarette.

Blissfire closed the distance in a flash and charged her fist with raw plasma energy until it burned as bright and hot as a miniature sun.

BANG!

Killcam pulled the trigger. The Flash Sniper erupted with a blinding, camera-like flash, sending the red bullet screaming through the air. It ripped through the plasma light, tearing a clean hole right through Blissfire’s arm.

Scott’s jaw dropped as he watched.

"That’s impossible... how can a bullet— unless..."

Maya didn’t wait around to listen to his analysis.

Before Scott could even call her back, she kicked the car door open and flew straight out the window. She charged toward Killcam like a blazing ball of purple star power. She was moving at a velocity so extreme that even Breaking AC’s high-speed news drones couldn’t broadcast her to the world clearly; she was just a streak of violent violet light!

Reaching Killcam in a split second, Maya reeled her fist back for a devastating punch.

But Killcam was already reacting. Mid-air, the assassin casually tossed a canister right between them and used her jetpack to blast backward at high speed.

POP—fsssshhhh!

The canister exploded, instantly enveloping the airspace in a thick, billowing cloud of dark red gas.

Maya hooked mid-flight, unable to stop her momentum in time. The moment she inhaled, she started coughing violently and her hands flew to her throat as the toxic vapor invaded her lungs.

"Cough! Hack... what is... this?!"

It reminded her of the red gas back at the Blue Garden Hotel so many months back. She couldn’t even remember how she survived that... but news channels said The Peak saved her while social media said it was Nightwatch.

"Fuck... this..."

Maya angrily punched against the swirling gas, trying to blow it away with her wind pressure, but her strength was rapidly draining.

Killcam hovered just a few meters away on her jetpack as she looked at the struggling hero.

"The red gas seeps straight into the enhanced system of a metasapien and nullifies the force-gene while also poisoning your insides with a nerve toxin. Sure, that idiot Grave got caught by that Nightwatch guy recently, but plenty of us assassins have been making serious bank by using this specific gas to carry out our jobs. Honestly, if I knew who originally manufactured it, I’d torture the recipe outta them and retire comfortably."

She raised her bulky Flash Sniper once more, aiming it dead at Maya’s head.

"I sort of expected more from an A-tier, but ehhh..."

She grinned sadistically.

"...being a hero is overrated."

As Killcam’s finger tightened on the trigger, Maya’s eyes snapped open, burning with pure rage. To be humiliated like this, to be beaten by some tech-reliant mercenary... it hit her pride significantly.

"RAHHHHH!"

Maya let out a primal shriek that made everyone cover their ears in pain. She threw her arms out wide, and a colossal pulsar explosion erupted violently from her body, tearing out of every single orifice in a blinding wave of purple cosmic energy.

The magnitude of the pulsar surge acted like a localized nuclear EMP, completely wiping out all electronics within a three-mile radius in a fraction of a second. The violent shockwave ripped through the street, causing several concrete buildings to structurally fail and collapse inward.

Killcam, along with her remaining drone swarm, was blasted backward through the air and several hard buildings like a collection of helpless ragdolls.

Even the Breaking AC helicopter and its media drones were dangerously flung away, losing power and plunging toward the earth.

Seeing the chopper falling, Scott panicked.

"Damn it!"

He was just about to activate his Shadow Factor Suit to spring into action and save the crew, but then, a strange laugh boomed through the chaos.

"Hua! Hua! Hua! Huaaah!"

The proudest, weirdest laugh he’d ever heard.

Scott and Dark Elf both blinked, turning their heads toward the source. Standing in the middle of the ruined street was a very tall, strikingly beautiful woman. She had medium black hair styled in a jagged wolf cut, and she wore a tactical combat vest directly over a flashy, white sequin showgirl dress. To top it all off, a bright red trench coat fluttered around her snow-white ankles.

Scott’s brow furrowed. "Huh...?"

The lady confidently held out her right hand, revealing a massive, vintage-looking three-reel slot machine gauntlet fused to her forearm.

"Make every single object in Atlantic City as soft as feathers for ten seconds."

There was a swagger in her voice.

"Then it goes right back to normal!"

Hesitantly, she yanked the heavy lever on the side of the slot machine gauntlet.

Spin, spin, spin—CLANG!

The reels whirred and locked into place.

It hit the ultimate 7-7-7 Jackpot!

Instantly, a surreal ripple passed over the city. Every single solid object in the city transformed into bouncy pillows. The concrete roads, the falling debris, the collapsing buildings, even the GT-R Scott and Dark Elf were sitting in turned into soft, stuffed cushions.

When the news helicopter hit the ground, it bounced off the pillowy pavement. Harmless. There were zero fatalities for the pilot and the terrified news reporter. Maya was tired out by her pulsar explosion and collapsed from the sky and landed safely on a giant, fluffy sidewalk cushion.

Scott’s eyes went wide as baseballs.

"That’s the coolest shit I have ever seen!"

Beside him, Dark Elf gave a quiet nod of approval.

"...Yeah..."

The tall, confident lady was R-Rated Hero: Jackpot!

Her ability was called High Roller. Whatever condition or rule she spoke aloud right before pulling the lever would manifest in reality... but ONLY if she managed to land a matching combination of three 7s or three cherries.

Jackpot popped a cigarette out of her pack, flicked a lighter, and took a long, soothing drag. Exhaling a cloud of gray smoke, she muttered:

"It’s a good thing I hit a jackpot there, or things could’ve gone really bad for the people here..."

All around her, the dazed civilians waved at her happily while resting comfortably on the pillowy roads of Atlantic City as if they were tucked into bed.

Scott tried to scramble out of the car to run over and check on Maya, but the moment his boots hit the ground, he sank knee-deep into the cushiony terrain.

The ten seconds haven’t passed yet.

He waited, counting down in his head until pop! it all went back to being solid concrete again.

Free to move, Scott sprinted over to help Maya, while also looking around for Blissfire, who’d been shot in the arm by Killcam. But when he reached the crash site, he was quite shocked to the point he halted.

Lying on the ground next to an unconscious Maya weren’t the remains of a flaming goddess. Instead, there were two incredibly pretty, identical twin girls, both knocked out cold and clutching their injured arms.

Scott blinked, utterly baffled. "Huh?"

Jackpot walked up over the rubble as smoke trailing from the cigarette between her rosy lips.

She glanced down at the trio.

"Put them in your car, kid. We should leave now before that psycho gun chick hooks back around."

Scott nodded quickly, bending down.

He hoisted Maya over one shoulder and scooped up one of the pretty twin girls. He looked up at Jackpot.

"Help me carry the last one, let’s go!"

Jackpot took another suck of her cigarette, blew the smoke right into the air, and scoffed.

"Fuck that. I can just teleport us there."

Scott grinned happily. "So fucking awesome!"

She raised her slot machine gauntlet and tightly gripped the light-metal lever.

"Teleport us back to the safe house!"

She yanked the lever down.

Spin, spin, spin...

The reels whirred, slowing down before clicking into a mismatched mess of symbols.

No 7s. No cherries. Uh-oh.

Jackpot’s confident look turned to fear.

"Oh no..."

BLEGH!

Without warning, Jackpot doubled over and started puking a live worms onto the pavement. Simultaneously, a series of structural explosions chain-reacted through the buildings behind her, blowing out windows and sending fiery debris raining down into the streets.

Scott stared at the pile of vomit.

"Holy shit..."

And right then and there...

Scott finally discovered exactly why R-Rated Heroes were called what they were.

They weren’t just edgy.

They were a walking danger to public society.