By the circular steps of the stadium, under the cold sunlight, a group of people lowered their heads to look at their phones, discussing loudly.
Luke frowned, pointing at the screen. "Where did this woman come from? I've never seen her before!"
Andre tapped continuously on his phone screen, looking up information. "Her name is Stormfront. She's a newcomer who appeared out of nowhere... she advocates against gender discrimination, attacks formalism, and calls for women to live for themselves."
Jade pointed at the woman on the screen who remained defiant during a reporter's interview and rolled her eyes. "Great, another feminist. Now there are three women in The Seven. Is Vought really going for equality?"
Wade watched the live broadcast without a word, completely immersed in it.
In the background, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar Black figure—it was the current rightful CEO of Vought Group, Stanford Edgar.
'This old guy arranged for Liberty's comeback so quickly. It must be because I've pushed them too hard. He wants to send her out to strike at hostile forces. I need to inform Hughie.'
According to what he knew, Liberty was the wife of Vought's founder and the first human to be injected with the original compound v. She had lived for over a hundred years and knew many secrets related to Vought.
Wade looked at The Seven's posters being replaced in the distance and muttered to himself, 'Or is Edgar trying to use Stormfront to check and balance Homelander? No, Stormfront shouldn't have that kind of power. At most, she could stall him for a while.'
On the massive billboard that was being hung and secured, a chest-puffing Homelander still held the top spot. Second was Stormfront, followed by Maeve, Starlight, Black Noir, Supersonic, and The Deep.
Jill sat down next to Wade with two drinks in her hands. She raised her arm and pointed indignantly at the giant poster. "On what grounds? This Stormfront is actually ranked second! I don't accept this!"
Wade took the drink, took a large gulp, and comforted her, "Think about it differently. With three women in The Seven, won't the Sisterhood Society's influence at school be even stronger?"
Jill didn't even drink her beverage; she pulled out her phone directly. "I don't care about that! I'm going to support Sister Maggie and complain about Vought."
Wade stole a glance at the screen and noticed that Queen Maeve's contact name had a note saying 'Margaret Shaw.' He asked curiously, "Is Maggie her nickname?"
Jill stared intently at the screen and nodded. "Yeah, she used to come over to talk to my mom a lot. She told me to call her that."
Wade wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulder and asked in a smiling, low voice, "So you, her little fangirl, never went to visit her house?"
"Hmph, there's nothing between us!" Hearing this, Jill kissed his cheek several times and whispered, "I've only visited a few times. I even have a photo. Look."
Wade looked at the photo of the two of them in loungewear and successfully obtained the specific address from her 'ice crystal' little brain. A thought suddenly arose: 'With a newcomer taking over, Maeve must be very depressed. I'll go find her first.'
...Late at night, Midtown Manhattan, 740 Central Park West.
In the penthouse apartment, Margaret Shaw, dressed in slim-fitting long clothes and pants, casually kicked off her high heels at the entrance and walked barefoot toward the living room, which was scattered with piles of empty wine bottles and takeout packaging.
She went straight to the only relatively tidy bar area, dully opened a bottle of vodka, and began chugging it straight from the bottle.
The liquid burned her throat, bringing a hint of warmth. She walked a few steps to the velvet sofa and curled up.
Margaret looked at the chandelier on the ceiling. In a daze, she was pulled back to that crashed plane. At that time, the emergency lights were flashing just as blindingly... the begging, wailing faces of the passengers flashed before her eyes one by one.
Clutching the wine bottle, she sobbed, tears falling continuously from her eyes. "Ugh... sorry, I didn't mean to."
The house suddenly became abnormally quiet; the outside clamor gradually faded, leaving only the sound of intermittent sobbing.
Thud—
Margaret looked toward the sound and found a figure had appeared at the bar, leisurely opening a bottle of wine.
The figure hiding in the shadows tossed the cork in his hand. "Tsk, tsk, tsk... I didn't expect the great Queen Maeve to have such a weak moment."
Whoosh—Crash!
"Who are you?" Margaret suddenly threw the wine bottle in her hand, jumped up from the sofa, and growled, "Get the hell out!"
The black-clad figure appeared at the bedroom door in an instant, smacking his lips. "Can't we just talk nicely? Ms. Margaret."
Margaret looked at the exceptionally ugly, deformed face under the light and quickly reached into her pocket. "So it's you, you freak! What? Just slaughtered Black Noir and now you want to deal with me?"
A dark shadow flashed in the room. Margaret moved as well, but her grab caught only air.
Wade immediately snatched the phone from her pants pocket and stood under the light, grinning. "Want to call the police, or call for backup? Surely you're not trying to call that Homelander you both hate and fear, are you?"
"I just want to talk to you. Is this really necessary?"
Margaret threw off her jacket and charged forward. "There's nothing to talk about!"
Wade clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. "Then don't blame me for being rude."
Margaret swung her arms; her pace suddenly slowed down, yet she was still moving slowly.
Bang bang bang bang—Crack crack crack!!!
The dark shadow flickered rapidly around her. Everywhere it passed, papers exploded like snowflakes, and solid wood furniture groaned under the strain, splinters flying.
In a flash, Margaret predicted the attack trajectory. She twisted her waist and abdomen, throwing a heavy elbow strike backward.
Thump—Snap!
A dull thud sounded. The dark shadow stalled slightly as the clear sound of a bone fracture rang out, then it accelerated again, the attacks descending like a violent storm.
The shadow flickered around her at extreme speeds. His heavy fists were like pile drivers; every hit made her internal organs vibrate and left several burning, painful, indented fist marks on her body.
Margaret raised her hands to block, but it was useless against the shadow. Every attempt to counterattack hit empty air, instead exposing her vitals to the next round of impact.
A few seconds later, beneath Margaret's shredded clothes was a mass of bright red fist marks. Her body swayed, and she collapsed to the ground.
"No, impossible..." She looked up at her opponent, panting lowly, her pupils trembling wildly. "You were definitely not created by Vought's own hands..."
'Whew—that hurts like hell!' Wade's two arms hung down like noodles. Enduring the continuous, piercing pain, blue light shone in his eyes, completely freezing Margaret's body.
With his current ground speed of a hundred meters per second and a punch force of about 8 tons, at a punching speed of over two hundred meters per second, he could throw eight punches in one second. This amplified the force by more than four times, with each punch's power level exceeding 30 tons.
Speed is an attack multiplier. With his second-tier comprehensive damage-bearing capacity of around 20 tons, he could only achieve the effect of easily suppressing a third-tier Supe at the cost of both his arms being completely wrecked.
'She actually endured it and even hit me back twice. She really can take a beating.' Wade shook his hands, and his two arms recovered instantly. 'If I didn't have Super Regeneration, healing, and Cellular-level Control, I really wouldn't dare play like this.'
"Don't move." He reached out to press down on Margaret's head, wiping away the blood overflowing from the corner of her mouth. Before she could bite him, he quickly backed far away. "Are you part dog or something?"
[Analyzing Supe gene blood sample... 1%]
[Abilities: Super Strength, Durability, Agility, Speed, Stamina]
Wade rubbed his fingers, secretly reflecting: 'Aside from not being able to fly, not having super senses, Heat Vision, and X-ray vision, it seems her abilities aren't much different from Homelander's.'
'Both are third-tier, but she's quite a bit stronger than Black Noir.' He recalled the battle on the seabed. Even after being continuously restricted, Homelander's explosive power was still terrifying. He shook his head: 'But compared to Homelander... she's far behind.'
Margaret looked at the ugly black-clad man in the distance who seemed to be dazed. Enduring the pain, she swung her head back and forth. The ice layers cracked bit by bit; it looked like she would be able to struggle free soon. "Ugh..."
"Where do you think you're going?" Wade appeared and sat on the ice. The shattered ice reinforced itself again in a large circle.
He methodically took out his phone and played a video filled with screams. "How about looking at this first? Does the person on it look familiar... a total of one hundred and twenty-five passengers. It was you two who did it, right?"
Margaret stopped struggling and stared blankly at the screen. Her pupils contracted violently as she hissed, "No, it wasn't like that."
"There were hijackers on the plane... we originally just wanted to save people... it was just, just an accident."
Wade pinched her cheek hard and said viciously, "An accident? I think it was intentional murder. Watch closely!"
With tearful eyes, Margaret watched the replaying footage of the massacre caused by Heat Vision sweeps, and her own cold-eyed observation. Her gaze completely lost its focus.
"You think I wanted it to be like this? I also wanted to... save them, even just one." She turned her head and murmured, "Are you here to take revenge for them? Then do it... kill me..."
Wade sensed her suicidal thoughts and realized they weren't fake. He reached out to dispel the ice. "If you die, wouldn't that be too easy for an accomplice like you? There's no such good deal."
He sat on the sofa, picked up the unfinished fruit wine, and took two gulps. "I want you to expose Vought and deal with Homelander with me."
"Expose Vought? I can't do that." Margaret clutched her body and walked unsteadily toward the bar, grabbing another bottle of wine. "And no one can deal with Homelander!"
"I have a way." Wade walked to her side and leaned against the bar. "What about you? What exactly are you afraid of? Is it that you can't let go of the title and wealth of the universally admired Queen Maeve, or does Vought have some leverage over you?"
"Deal with Homelander?" The corner of Margaret's mouth twisted into an ugly curve, her laughter tinged with a sob. "Hahaha... You've been hunted by him, so you should know that's seeking death! No one can do it!"
"How will you know if you don't try?" Wade took out his phone, waved it in front of her, and unlocked the screen. "Let's talk about your business first. Is your beloved being kept under watch by Vought?"
Margaret quickly glanced at the living room table, where a photo of her and Elena laughing freely on the beach was displayed. She continued drinking on her own.
Wade understandingly opened the photo album, his finger sliding quickly. "Is it this woman with the round face and full figure? Her name is Elena, right? If she knew you caused the deaths of so many ordinary people, would she forgive you, this Supe?"
"We've already broken up!" Margaret snatched the phone with a gloomy face and said sullenly, "Since you've investigated me, don't play these kinds of tricks."
Wade snatched the wine from in front of her, tilted his head to gulp it down, and wiped his mouth. "I'll play the hijacker and help you hide her... when the Vought business is over, you play the hero-saving-the-beauty trick, and won't the old flame be rekindled?"
Margaret grabbed the wine bottle back and looked at him with a cold gaze, saying deeply, "I said, we've already broken up. Don't use her to threaten me!"
Wade pulled six damaged pinhole cameras from his pocket and lined them up on the table. "Someone installed these things in your house. Who do you think did it?"
"Vought doesn't care if you've broken up or not. Think about it, if even I can find Elena, would Homelander not know? Do you still have room to resist?"
"Or do you want to continue being Vought's puppet?"
Margaret stared at him and mocked coldly, "You look like a pervert at first glance. How do I know you didn't plant these yourself?"
Wade knew she was hesitating and said with a serious face, "Why don't you ask Homelander to his face tomorrow? See what kind of excuse he uses to brush you off..."
"I'll think about it." Margaret tore off her tattered clothes, picked up the wine bottle, and walked toward the outdoor rooftop pool.
Wade scanned the exposed bruises and skin, picked up two bottles of wine from the bar, and followed behind her unhurriedly. "That won't do... if I don't get a result tonight, I'm not leaving!"
PS: Support the new book, please!
plz support my patreon
patreon.com/AZofficial
it is 30 chapter ahead