Black Robe: I'm Waterman, Homelander is My Good Brother
Chapter 15: A-Train's Fear
Li Xing pushed open the mahogany double doors of the Vice President's office and stepped out, with Bibi Labufollowing behind, tail wagging.
Turning the corner, there was the exclusive internal lounge for The Seven.
In front of the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows, three people stood in various postures.
A-Train sat on the edge of a leather sofa, his right leg shaking frantically at a high frequency that the human eye could barely capture.
He was wearing blue casual sportswear, with dark circles under his eyes, and he gripped an empty, crumpled energy drink can tightly in his hand.
Maeve leaned against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a slender lady's cigarette between her fingers, blowing smoke rings while looking at the Manhattan street view outside.
Black Noir sat on a single sofa in the farthest corner, dressed in his pure black combat suit, holding a can of peach-flavored soda, quietly sipping it through the gap under his mask.
Hearing footsteps, all three turned their heads simultaneously.
"Li."
Maeve spoke first, her tone carrying a hint of surprise.
A-Train abruptly stopped his shaking right leg, took a deep breath, and forced a smile that looked worse than crying.
"Hi, Li."
"Yesterday's race was so exhausting, my muscles are still twitching now."
He tried his best to hide the extreme panic and sorrow in his heart.
Last night, he had snuck to that apartment and only saw a shriveled female corpse.
He dared not call the police, dared not speak out, and even dared not show a shred of sadness in front of others.
Because that was his secret girlfriend; once exposed, the single idol persona the company had painstakingly built would completely collapse.
Li Xing looked at the smiling A-Train, his face composed, and he even returned a gentle smile.
Bibi Labu squatted at Li Xing's feet and rolled his eyes.
"This guy's leg is shaking like it's got a motor in it, does he need to pee?"
"Looks like he's been jerking off too much. I've told him so many times, a little is fine, but too much hurts the body."
Li Xing ignored the dog's snark and walked towards Maeve first.
Maeve crossed her arms and looked Li Xing up and down in his crisp, high-end suit.
"I just saw the latest announcement in the internal system."
"Is Madelyn Stillwell out of her mind? Letting you replace Translucent?"
In Maeve's perception, Li Xing was just a good-looking, high-EQ PR assistant.
As for Li Xing's superpowers—dog-speak and super sexual ability—Maeve really couldn't fathom why he was being made to bear the brunt of the media's fire.
Li Xing took a lighter from his pocket and lit a cigarette.
"Madelyn Stillwell needs an obedient puppet to fill the vacancy and, by the way, divert public attention from Translucent's disappearance."
Maeve sighed, a hint of worry flashing in her eyes.
It was rare for Maeve to speak in such a serious tone.
"You're a good guy, Li."
"For these three years, you've accompanied me shopping, listened to me complain about all that crap, and you've never looked at me with those disgusting eyes."
Maeve paused and glanced at Black Noir in the corner.
"You even play chess with Black Noir, although you lose every time."
"In this company full of freaks, you are a rare normal person."
Li Xing took a puff of his cigarette and exhaled a cloud of blue-white smoke.
"Thank you for the compliment, Maggie."
"But I am a member of The Seven now, code-named 'Li Xing and Dog'."
After hearing this code name, Maeve rolled her eyes hard.
"That name is just stupid."
"Listen, Li, The Seven is not a good place; this is a cesspool."
Maeve lowered her voice.
"John's state has been very off lately; you'd better stay away from him."
"I'll keep that in mind."
In the corner, Black Noir put down the peach-flavored soda in his hand.
He stood up and walked to Li Xing with silent steps.
He reached into the lining of his black combat suit, pulled out a neatly folded piece of white paper, and handed it to Li Xing.
Li Xing took the paper and unfolded it.
It was a simple crayon drawing.
On it was a stick figure in a suit, with a big-eared dog squatting next to it.
The stick figure was holding an umbrella, shielding a stick figure in black armor next to it from the rain.
This was Black Noir's way of expressing goodwill.
In this company, Li Xing was the only one who never looked at him with strange eyes.
"Nice drawing, Black Noir. Next time we play chess, I'll let you win."
Li Xing patted Black Noir's hard shoulder armor.
Black Noir nodded vigorously and turned back to the corner.
Maeve shook her head.
She walked toward the elevator in her high heels, preparing to go to a bar for a few drinks.
"You always manage to handle everyone. Good luck, new hero."
Only Li Xing, A-Train, and Black Noir were left in the lounge.
Black Noir was immersed in his own world, indifferent to the outside world.
Li Xing walked to the sofa next to A-Train and sat down.
A-Train's muscles were tense all over; he didn't dare look at Li Xing, just mechanically picked up a new can of energy drink and tried to pull the tab.
But his fingers were shaking too hard. With a "pop," the tab broke, and the drink didn't open.
Li Xing spoke suddenly, his voice gentle.
"Reggie."
A-Train was startled, and the can in his hand dropped onto the carpet.
"W-what's wrong, Li?"
Li Xing leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
He spoke in a tone only the two of them could hear, his voice flat.
"I cleaned the floor of that apartment in Brooklyn. It's not dirty anymore, is it?"
"The dehydration rate of the mummified corpse was very high; there wasn't even any brain matter left."
A-Train was thunderstruck.
He turned his head sharply, his bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at Li Xing, his pupils contracting instantly.
His Adam's apple bobbed wildly, and he opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound.
How could Li Xing know?!
Li Xing stood up and straightened the hem of his suit.
"Reggie, how about you come downstairs with me to get a coffee?"
A-Train nodded stiffly, stood up like a puppet, and followed Li Xing toward another elevator.
The elevator doors closed, leaving only the two of them and a dog in the cabin.
"Bang!"
Almost the instant the elevator doors closed, A-Traingrabbed Li Xing by the collar and slammed him hard against the metal wall of the cabin.
"Did you do it?!"
A-Train suppressed a roar in his throat, his face twisted.
"Did you kill Pop?"
Bibi Labu yawned beside them.
"This guy has a strong grip. If you don't let go, I'm going to bite your crotch."
Li Xing did not resist; he let A-Train hold onto him.
He looked at A-Train's face, deformed by anger and fear, and the corners of his mouth curled into a mocking arc.
His fingers moved slightly, moisture in the air condensed, and the camera in the elevator was instantly disabled.
Li Xing admitted it generously.
"It was me."
A-Train raised his fist, the afterimage caused by his super speed creating a piercing screech in the air.
As long as this punch landed, Li Xing's head would explode like a watermelon, and A-Train would discover Li Xing's ability.
But Li Xing didn't even blink; he was certain that A-Trainwouldn't dare throw the punch.
Li Xing said in a cold tone.
"Hit me."
"And then the police will immediately receive an anonymous email."
"The content will be about how the world's fastest man secretly kept an aging actress, and how he has been taking high-purity compound v for a long time to win races."
"I know, Robin wasn't accidentally killed when you were on a mission."
"You were high and simply couldn't stop."
A-Train's raised fist stopped abruptly in mid-air, less than a centimeter from the tip of Li Xing's nose.
The wind from the punch blew Li Xing's hair back.
Li Xing raised his hand and gently pushed aside A-Train's stiff fist.
"Pop was on drugs before she died."
"There was also a headless corpse of a Landlord in her apartment, and the floor was covered in compound vresidue."
A-Train began to tremble violently.
"If I hadn't drained her, the police and FBI would have knocked on your door this morning."
"Madelyn Stillwell would kick you out of The Sevenwithout hesitation. Your endorsements, your mansion, the look of pride in your brother's eyes—it would all disappear."
Li Xing straightened his collar, which had been crumpled, and reached out to pat A-Train's stiff cheek.
"Reggie, you should thank me. I helped you deal with a bomb that could go off at any time."
"If John found out about you, what do you think he would do?"
A-Train's legs went weak, and he slid down to the floor, his back against the elevator wall.
He covered his face and let out a desperate, suppressed whimper.
He hated Li Xing.
But he was more afraid of losing everything he had now.
Selfishness and cowardice finally crushed his pathetic love and desire for revenge completely.
Li Xing looked down at him from above.
"This matter ends here."
"Continue being the world's fastest man, understand?"
"When I need you, you must work for me."
A-Train buried his head in his knees and nodded with difficulty and humiliation.
"Ding."
The elevator arrived at the first floor.
Li Xing stepped out of the elevator, with Bibi Labufollowing behind.
Everything was basically handled. Next, all Li Xing had to do was wait quietly for the plot to progress.
"What do you say? Go home or go out and fool around?"
"Is joining The Seven very lucrative?"
"I suppose so."
"Then get me a pretty little bitch."
"Awesome."
Chapter 16: Declaration of War
Night fell, and the neon lights of Manhattan lit up.
Li Xing returned to his apartment.
Bibi Labu went straight to the bed, picked up the hookah on the side, and started smoking.
"Ah, it feels so good to just lie down at home."
"Little Li, get me a pound of dog food soaked in vodka."
"Do you want me to get you two pounds of dog shit to eat instead? You've been spoiled too much, damn it."
Li Xing flicked his mind.
The water in the glass instantly cooled down, freezing into several crystal-clear ice cubes, hitting the bottom of the glass with a crisp sound.
Then he poured two fingers of whiskey and took a sip.
The TV screen on the wall was on.
Major news channels were looping Homelander's speech at the stadium.
Protesters blocked the downstairs of Vought Tower, holding signs demanding the truth.
Everything was going according to plan.
Li Xing put down his glass and turned towards the bathroom.
He didn't need to worry about the mess that would follow.
Tonight's stage belonged to someone else.
...
Nine o'clock at night.
Vought Tower, 82nd floor.
Madelyn Stillwell walked quickly along the private corridor reserved for The Seven.
Her high heels made no sound on the thick wool carpet.
Ten minutes ago, she received a text message from Homelander.
It only said one sentence: Come to the Conference Room.
Madelyn Stillwell felt a strong sense of panic.
In the past few hours, she had mobilized all public relations resources, trying to quell the negative impact of Homelander's speech.
But Homelander's attitude was the variable she was most worried about.
She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the Conference Room.
The air conditioning was on high, feeling almost bone-chilling.
Homelander sat at the head of the long conference table.
He wasn't wearing his iconic stars-and-stripes cape, only his red and blue tight-fitting suit.
His hands were clasped on the table, and his eyes stared unfocused straight ahead.
The Deep stood at the far end of the conference table.
He was soaked, his green scale suit dripping with seawater, forming a small puddle on the carpet.
At The Deep's feet, there was a one-meter-square metal box.
The surface of the box was wrapped in dark green seaweed, emitting a strong, fishy smell.
Madelyn Stillwell walked in and pulled out the chair to Homelander's right to sit down.
"John, what is this?"
Homelander slowly turned his head to look at Madelyn Stillwell.
"You've been asking for evidence, haven't you?"
He raised his hand and pointed to the box on the floor.
"The evidence is right here."
Madelyn Stillwell turned to look at The Deep.
The Deep swallowed hard, his body shrinking back unconsciously.
He didn't dare look directly at Homelander, only at Madelyn Stillwell.
The Deep reported, stuttering.
"Madam Vice President, this is what I found at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean."
"To be precise, a very good friend of mine helped me find it."
"Its name is Timothy, it's a very smart..."
Homelander coldly interrupted The Deep.
"A fucking porpoise."
The Deep quickly shut his mouth, lowered his head, and gripped his pant seams tightly.
Madelyn Stillwell ignored The Deep's nonsense.
She stared at the seaweed-wrapped box, her brow furrowed.
"Is this Translucent?"
Homelander stood up and paced slowly around the conference table.
"Part of him."
"A large part of him."
Madelyn Stillwell found it incredible.
"Since he was in the Atlantic Ocean, why couldn't you find him? Your X-ray vision can cover a vast range, even in the deep sea."
Homelander walked to the metal box, raised his right foot, and kicked the outer wall of the box lightly.
It made a dull metallic clinking sound.
"Zinc."
Homelander spat out the word.
Madelyn Stillwell was stunned.
A flash of suppressed violence flickered in the depths of Homelander's eyes.
"They plated the outside of the box with a layer of high-purity zinc."
"My X-ray vision can see through reinforced concrete and human bones, but it cannot see through zinc."
Madelyn Stillwell gasped.
Ordinary people couldn't possibly know the weakness of Homelander's superpowers.
This is the highest level of secret at Vought International; even within The Seven, only a very few people know about it.
Madelyn Stillwell shook her head, her voice trembling slightly.
"This is impossible."
"Who did this? How could they know this information?"
Homelander walked behind Madelyn Stillwell and pressed his hands on the back of her chair.
"This is where you are foolish, Madelyn."
Madelyn Stillwell's body stiffened instantly.
Homelander leaned down slightly, his voice sounding right by Madelyn Stillwell's ear.
"You always thought we were facing a few street thugs looking to extort us, or some corporate spy from a rival company."
"You used your ridiculous PR mindset to try to cover everything up and paint a peaceful picture."
Homelander straightened up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and watched the tiny traffic and lights outside.
"But Li is right."
Hearing this name, Madelyn Stillwell's heart contracted violently.
Homelander continued, his tone carrying an unprecedented clarity and coldness.
"Someone is hunting heroes in the shadows."
"This is a war."
"They understand us, study us, and even know how to avoid my vision."
"They kidnapped Translucent, stuffed C4 explosives inside his body, blew him into shreds of meat, and then put him in a zinc box and threw him into the sea."
"They aren't doing it for money; they are doing it to completely destroy Vought International, to destroy us."
Madelyn Stillwell was completely shaken.
These words were logically tight and pointed straight to the core.
This was not something Homelander could have thought of.
In the past, when Homelander encountered problems, he would only angrily use his Heat Vision to destroy everything, then run to her for comfort, like a child who had made a mistake.
But now, Homelander was thinking.
He was thinking using Li Xing's logic.
That bastard Li Xing, what on earth had he instilled in John?!
Madelyn Stillwell felt a deep sense of powerlessness and fear.
The control web she was so proud of was being torn apart bit by bit by Li Xing.
She was no longer Homelander's only mental pillar.
Homelander turned around and gave an order.
"Open the box."
The Deep shivered all over and quickly crouched down.
The box had no latch; the edges were tightly sealed with rough industrial waterproof tape.
The Deep reached out with both hands and tore at the tape with force.
"Rip—"
The harsh tearing sound echoed in the silent Conference Room.
The Deep gripped the edge of the box lid, his arm muscles bulging, and lifted it up with force.
"Bang."
The heavy metal lid flipped open and slammed onto the carpet.
An indescribable stench erupted instantly.
It was a lethal mixture of rotten meat soaked in seawater, fermented internal organs, and gunpowder residue.
Madelyn Stillwell immediately covered her mouth and nose, her stomach churning, and she almost threw up.
The Deep was the closest; he turned around immediately and retched on the floor.
Homelander walked to the box with an expressionless face and looked down.
There was no complete corpse in the box.
There were only dark red chunks of meat, broken bone fragments, and a few pieces of transparent skin tissue mixed in the flesh.
Translucent's indestructible skin had turned into meaningless fragments under the power of the internal explosion.
This was the invisible man of The Seven.
Once arrogant and invincible, now only a pile of rotten meat remained.
Madelyn Stillwell forced herself to endure the disgust, stood up, and walked over.
After just one look, she turned her head sharply, closed her eyes, and gasped for air.
"Too disgusting..."
Homelander didn't speak.
His gaze didn't linger on the meat shreds, but stared fixedly at the inside of the opened metal lid.
On the inside of the lid, a line of shocking bold English letters was written in bright red anti-rust paint.
The paint had run a little, but it was still clearly legible.
[ COMING FOR YOU ]
Provocation.
A naked death threat.
The temperature in the Conference Room seemed to drop to freezing instantly.
The Deep curled up in the corner, not daring to breathe.
He could feel that the aura around Homelander was undergoing a terrifying change.
Homelander stared fixedly at that line of text.
The whites of his eyes quickly became bloodshot, and the veins around his eye sockets bulged.
Two scarlet rays gathered crazily in the depths of his pupils, getting brighter and more blinding.
Madelyn Stillwell sensed extreme danger, her voice trembling.
"John..."
Homelander ignored Madelyn Stillwell.
He raised his head abruptly, and two thick beams of Heat Vision shot from his eyes.
"Sizzle—"
The Heat Vision hit the metal box instantly.
The extreme heat melted the zinc layer instantly and cut through the steel plate.
The meat in the box carbonized instantly under the high heat, turning into wisps of acrid black smoke.
"Since he's dead, there's no need to keep the hero's remains."
After saying this, a signature smile appeared on Homelander's face.
"Alright, that's enough. The Deep, go dispose of the box."
The Deep nodded repeatedly, picked up the box, and ran out.
Only Madelyn Stillwell and Homelander remained in the Conference Room.
Madelyn Stillwell approached Homelander slowly, reaching out to stroke his chest.
Chapter 17: Meeting the Big Shot
The Conference Room still reeked of a pungent, burnt smell.
The air conditioning was on full blast, yet the burnt smell pressed against her throat, refusing to dissipate.
Madelyn Stillwell stood where she was; her composure hadn't crumbled, but her fingertips were trembling.
She looked at Homelander.
That familiar face held no anger, no pain, and none of the vulnerability she was so skilled at soothing.
Only indifference.
An indifference so empty it chilled the bone.
Madelyn Stillwell slowly unbuttoned the top two buttons of her silk shirt.
A large expanse of fair skin was exposed to the cold air.
She took a step forward, closing the distance to Homelander, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
She pressed the side of her face against Homelander's hard chest, her breath warm, her voice lowered to a whisper.
"John, it's okay."
"I will handle everything."
"You just need to stay by my side."
Her tone was soft, carrying a practiced coaxing.
In the past, she knew exactly how to deal with Homelander.
Playing weak, stroking his ego, and using tenderness to drag him back under her control.
But this time, Homelander did not respond.
He lowered his head, looking at the woman in his arms.
Madelyn Stillwell, pressed against his chest, remained certain she could soothe him.
But Homelander only felt a sense of estrangement.
In the past, hearing these words would have made him feel at ease.
He would have buried his head in Madelyn Stillwell's neck, like a child receiving his mother's permission, and calmed down again.
Now, he only felt bored.
And disgusted...
That carefully feigned tenderness, clinging to his skin, made him sick.
Homelander raised his right hand.
Before Madelyn Stillwell could react, he had already grabbed her wrist.
His fingers tightened.
"Ah!"
Madelyn Stillwell let out a scream.
The sharp pain of compressed bone instantly spread through her entire body; the tenderness on her face shattered completely, leaving only terror.
Homelander did not let go.
He watched her painfully twisted face, his eyes devoid of fluctuation.
Only then did Madelyn Stillwell realize that her familiar methods had failed.
She wanted to speak.
She wanted to say his name.
She wanted to use that gentle, indulgent tone to call him back.
But Homelander gave a casual flick.
Madelyn Stillwell stumbled backward, her waist slamming heavily against the edge of the Conference Room table.
The dull sound of the impact was exceptionally jarring in the empty Conference Room.
She clutched her wrist, her face deathly pale, her eyes filled with terror.
Homelander stood where he was, his voice devoid of inflection.
"Cut the act."
Madelyn Stillwell's breath hitched.
Homelander looked at her, his gaze cold, without temperature.
"I don't need this disgusting comfort."
Madelyn Stillwell opened her mouth.
She wanted to explain, wanted to stabilize the situation, wanted to say she was sincere.
But her throat was blocked, and she couldn't squeeze out a single word.
Homelander adjusted the collar of his suit, his movements slow and calm.
Everything that just happened was, to him, nothing more than tossing aside an eyesore.
"Li is right."
"I cared too much about your opinion in the past."
"And too much about the opinions of those mortals."
As he said this, a pathological clarity surfaced in his eyes.
"I am a god."
"Gods don't need to please anyone."
Madelyn Stillwell's pupils contracted.
A chill crept up her spine.
It wasn't Homelander's power she feared.
It was that he had started to believe this statement.
Completely believe it.
Homelander turned around and walked toward the door of the Conference Room.
Madelyn Stillwell wanted to call him back.
"Jo..."
Before the word could leave her mouth, Homelanderstopped.
He didn't look back.
He just stood there.
Madelyn Stillwell's voice was stuck in her throat.
Only her rapid, suppressed breathing remained in the Conference Room.
The next second, Homelander pushed the door open and left.
The door closed.
The heavy sound of the door closing slammed into the Conference Room.
Madelyn Stillwell's legs went weak, and she slumped onto the carpet.
The next morning. An apartment in Brooklyn.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, cutting stripes of light and shadow across the floor.
Bibi Labu squatted on the coffee table, lowering its head to lick the liquid in a stainless steel bowl.
The bowl was filled with dog food soaked in vodka.
The smell of alcohol and dog food mixed together, emitting an extremely bizarre odor.
Yet Bibi Labu licked it with great satisfaction.
It raised its head and let out a loud, drunken burp.
"Refreshing."
"This booze is strong. Little Li, where are we going to pick up chicks today?"
Li Xing sat on the sofa, holding his phone.
Hearing this, he didn't even raise an eyelid.
"Is 'Little Li' something a dog bastard like you should be calling me?"
"Call me Master."
"Otherwise, no food for two days."
Bibi Labu froze.
It looked at the vodka-soaked dog food in the bowl, then at Li Xing.
Soon, it lowered its dog head, its voice fawning.
"Master."
"That was my second dog-personality talking just now, hehe."
Li Xing ignored it.
The screen displayed the Twitter trending list.
Trending #1: Vought's New Hero.
Trending #2: Li Xing and Dog.
Trending #3: Satan Arrives.
Vought International's official account had released a network-wide announcement half an hour ago.
The announcement did not mention Translucent's death, only announcing that The Seven had welcomed a new member.
The accompanying image was a visually striking photograph.
Li Xing wore a dark gray haute couture suit, one hand in his pocket, looking down at the lens with indifferent eyes.
A beagle with its eyes rolled back was squatting at his feet.
The dog didn't look like a hero's sidekick, but more like some kind of psychic-polluting mascot.
The character tag had only two words.
Satan.
Chaos.
The entire internet exploded.
Data in the comments section was scrolling at a rate of tens of thousands per second.
"What the hell is this? A suit with a dog? What kind of superhero is this?"
"Was Vought International hacked? This codename is too sloppy!"
"This guy is handsome, but this persona is too arrogant, right? Calling himself Satan? Who does he think he is?"
"I bet he won't last three days before being cyberbullied into retirement."
Bad publicity is still publicity.
The more cursing, the more discussion.
The more intense the skepticism, the crazier the popularity.
Li Xing's name spread across the entire internet.
Within just half an hour, his popularity had already surpassed Starlight and was closing in on Homelander.
Li Xing turned off his phone screen.
The black screen reflected his face.
Calm, indifferent, without a trace of being affected by public opinion.
He stood up and walked to the mirror to adjust his collar.
Bibi Labu tilted its head to look at him.
"Master, aren't you nervous?"
"Half the people online want to see you make a fool of yourself, and the other half want to see you suffer."
Li Xing unhurriedly fastened his cufflinks.
"It doesn't matter what they want to see."
"What's important is that they are watching."
Bibi Labu blinked.
"Makes sense."
It jumped off the coffee table, its steps somewhat unsteady, nearly face-planting on the floor.
Li Xing picked up his coat.
"Let's go, to the company."
"There's a big shot who wants to see me today."
It steadied its body and let out another drunken burp.
"A big shot?"
"How big? Is it a D-cup?"
Li Xing glanced at it.
Bibi Labu immediately shut up.
Bibi Labu wobbled after him.
"Master, I think with your aura, that big shot will definitely have to kneel when they see you."
Li Xing said indifferently:
"You'd better pray you sober up before we get to the company."
"Otherwise, I'll let you know that dogs can experience pain beyond just a hangover."
Bibi Labu instantly tucked its tail.
"Master is wise."
Meanwhile. A basement in New York. The secret base of The Boys.
Under the dim lights, the computer screen emitted a pale, white light.
Hughie stared at the screen, his mouth slightly agape.
He looked at the poster of the suit-wearing man with a dog, then rubbed his eyes.
The image didn't change.
Hughie slowly turned his head to look at Billy Butcher.
"This is ridiculous."
His voice carried disbelief.
"He really joined The Seven."
"And in such a... ridiculous way."
Frenchie was wiping down a submachine gun.
He glanced at the screen, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Ridiculous?"
"I think it's terrifying."
Hughie frowned.
Frenchie put down the gun and pointed at Li Xing on the screen.
"This guy doesn't play by the rules."
"He's not the kind of guy who would be packaged into a product by Vought."
"He's deliberately putting himself in front of everyone."
"Making it so no one can understand him."
Frenchie paused, his tone becoming serious.
"This kind of person is the most dangerous."
"Because you don't know if he'll laugh or kill you the next second."
Billy Butcher sat in the corner, toying with a bullet in his hand.
The bullet flipped back and forth between his fingers; he looked at Li Xing's photo, his eyes gloomy.
"He's not crazy."
Hughie looked at him.
Billy Butcher slammed the bullet onto the table.
The dull thud made the room go quiet.
"He's establishing his authority."
Billy Butcher stared at the screen, his voice low.
"He's telling everyone that he doesn't follow Vought's rules."
"He wants to establish his own rules."
MM walked over, his brows locked tight.
"The problem is, he took the compound v."
"That stuff isn't a toy."
"If he really is a lunatic, we're essentially watching a lunatic walk into Vought Tower with a bomb."
Hughie immediately said.
"So we can't trust him."
His emotions were clearly tense.
"We have no idea what he's trying to do."
Frenchie nodded.
"I agree with the kid."
"Working with Satan doesn't sound like a good idea."
Billy Butcher raised his eyes to look at them.
"I didn't say to trust him."
Hughie was stunned.
Billy Butcher slowly stood up and put on his black trench coat.
"I said to use him."
His gaze swept over the group, his tone hard and cold.
"Li Xing's existence."
"This is an opportunity for us."
MM said in a low voice:
"What if we're the ones who lose in the end?"
Billy Butcher fastened his coat buttons and sneered.
"Then don't stand in between them."
Hughie was still uneasy.
"But the clue he left for us could also be a trap."
Billy Butcher picked up the bullet from the table and shoved it back into his pocket.
"Of course it could be a trap."
"But do we have any other options right now?"
No one in the room answered.
Billy Butcher looked at the screen, his eyes growing colder.
"Go check out that Uncle Egg's Noodle House he mentioned."
"Since he left a clue, we'll follow it."
After saying this, he turned and walked out.
"As long as we can take down Vought."
"Whether he's a lunatic, a monster, or Satan."
Billy Butcher paused, his voice dropping even lower.
"I don't mind working with him."
Chapter 18: Standoff
Vought Tower, 82nd floor.
This floor is not open to the public.
The elevator requires triple verification: iris, fingerprint, and voiceprint.
There are no posters on either side of the hallway, no superhero merchandise, and no PR staff running back and forth in professional suits.
Only gray walls, black glass, and security guards standing at the corners.
When Li Xing stepped out of the elevator, both security guards looked up simultaneously.
Their hands instinctively moved toward their waists.
Li Xing didn't look at them.
Bibi Labu followed behind, wobbling with its dog head held high.
It had a half-smoked, unlit cigar in its mouth, and its dog face was full of annoyance.
"This place is decorated like an urn."
"Rich people are so weird. The richer they get, the more they like living in a crypt."
Li Xing kicked it.
"Too much chatter."
"You don't know jack. I'm just livening up the atmosphere."
The door at the end of the hallway opened automatically.
The office is huge.
So huge it doesn't look like an office, but more like a heartless courtroom.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan lay beneath their feet.
Stan Edgar sat behind the desk.
He wore a dark suit, his tie was perfectly straight, and a cup of untouched black coffee sat in front of him.
Madelyn Stillwell stood on the left.
A thin bandage was wrapped around her wrist.
Seeing Li Xing enter, she didn't speak.
Her expression was professional, but the exhaustion in her eyes couldn't be hidden.
Edgar looked up.
His gaze fell on Li Xing, then on Bibi Labu.
"Mr. Li."
"Sit."
Li Xing sat down.
Bibi Labu also jumped onto the chair next to him, spreading its hind legs and sitting like a boss.
Edgar looked at it for a second.
"Does this dog also need to participate in the meeting?"
Li Xing lit a cigarette.
"My codename is Li Xing and Dog."
"It is only right that he attends the meeting."
Bibi Labu, with the cigar in its mouth, cursed incoherently.
"You old nigger, you're quite rude. What's wrong with a dog? At least a dog doesn't wear a suit every day to play dead."
"Dressed like a human, why do you talk like that?"
Edgar listened to Bibi Labu's barking without getting angry.
He opened the folder on the table.
"At nine o'clock yesterday morning, Vought Internationalofficially released your public file."
"Within twenty-four hours, your online discussion volume exceeded Starlight and is approaching Homelander."
"Negative reviews account for sixty-three percent."
"Positive reviews account for twelve percent."
"The remaining twenty-five percent are discussing your dog."
Bibi Labu immediately raised its head.
"Hear that? I'm the traffic magnet."
"Humans are worse than dogs, hahaha."
Li Xing flicked the ash.
"And then?"
Edgar turned the page.
"You refused the combat suit, refused the company codename, and refused the PR persona."
"You threatened The Deep."
"You interfered with the internal investigation into the Mayor of Baltimore's private jet incident."
"You contacted Homelander privately and changed his behavioral patterns."
"You forced A-Train to serve you."
Edgar paused.
"Also, two people died in that apartment in Brooklyn."
The office fell silent.
Madelyn Stillwell's gaze fell on Li Xing's face.
Li Xing took a puff of his cigarette.
"Not bad, you investigated quite thoroughly."
"Just like what's underneath you."
Edgar closed the folder, indifferent to Li Xing's trash talk.
"Vought International does not like assets that cannot be valued."
"Especially things that can self-expand, make their own decisions, and have the ability to contaminate other assets."
Li Xing laughed.
Edgar's tone was steady.
"In the Vought system, all superheroes are products."
"Homelander is a product."
"Maeve is a product."
"A-Train is a product."
"You are one too."
Madelyn Stillwell didn't interrupt.
She knew what Edgar was doing.
He was redefining Li Xing.
At the negotiating table, whoever defines the other party first gains the initiative.
Edgar was turning Li Xing from a "person" into a "product."
Products can be evaluated, packaged, replaced, and destroyed.
Li Xing leaned back in his chair.
"I am not a product."
Edgar looked at him.
"Every product says that."
He took a second document from the drawer and pushed it toward Li Xing.
"This is your new contract."
"An annual salary of eighty million dollars."
"Global revenue share increased to seven percentage points."
"Internal authority within The Seven raised to Level A, equal to Homelander."
"You can keep your suit, and you can keep this dog."
Bibi Labu's dog eyes lit up.
"Eighty million? Why don't we just accept it? I can accept being corrupted by capitalism."
"Actually, being a capitalist dog isn't bad."
Li Xing looked at Bibi Labu with disdain.
"No ambition."
Edgar continued.
"The conditions are simple."
"First, all your public actions must be approved by the company."
"Second, you must not continue to influence Homelanderprivately."
"Third, you must hand over your ability test data."
"Fourth, any information related to compound v belongs to Vought International."
Li Xing looked at the contract.
The paper was thick.
The text was dense.
Every clause on it looked like a bottomless trap.
"And if I don't sign?"
Edgar picked up his coffee and took a sip.
"Then you will find that in modern society, you don't need to kill a person to destroy them."
"Bank accounts will be frozen."
"Identity records will be canceled."
"The media will paint you as a dangerous element."
"The Department of Homeland Security will launch an investigation."
"The IRS will audit every cent of your income from the past three years."
"The apartment you live in, the car you drive, the cigarettes you smoke, will all become evidence."
Edgar set down the cup.
"Mr. Li, violence is very inefficient."
"Real power is making you lose everything before you've even made a move."
Li Xing didn't speak.
He glanced at the corner of the office.
Black Noir was standing there.
Black Noir didn't know when he had appeared.
He was clad in black armor, as quiet as a piece of furniture.
But his right hand was already on the hilt of his sword.
Bibi Labu saw it too.
It shrank its neck, but was still stubborn.
"Yo, the black-clad ninja is here too."
"With this lineup, are we having a meeting or a funeral?"
Li Xing crossed his hands and placed them on the table.
"Edgar."
"Do you know what your biggest problem is?"
Edgar looked up.
Li Xing leaned forward.
"You are too used to negotiating with people."
"You think everyone has a price."
"Everyone has fears."
"Everyone has a weakness."
"Unfortunately, I don't have many pursuits."
"Money, I have enough."
"Fame, I don't care."
"Identity, I can change it at any time."
"Threatening me with social rules is like threatening a chef with a menu."
Edgar didn't move.
But the atmosphere in the office changed.
The surface of the coffee in the cup began to vibrate.
Ripples spread out in circles.
Madelyn Stillwell looked down.
She swallowed.
Fine beads of water condensed on the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The humidity in the air was rising.
Edgar's black coffee suddenly lifted from the cup, turning into a thin black line, hovering in mid-air.
Immediately after, the bottle of mineral water by Madelyn Stillwell's desk also rose.
The water in the vase.
The water in the humidifier.
The moisture from human breath.
All gathered behind Li Xing.
They didn't turn into water pythons, nor into ice spikes.
They just hovered quietly.
Like a sea of transparency.
Edgar finally set down the coffee cup.
He looked at Li Xing.
"It seems we don't know enough about you."
"I didn't expect this to be your ability."
Li Xing's voice was very soft, glancing at Bibi Labu.
"It's not mine, it's Bibi Labu's superpower."
"You said violence is inefficient."
"I agree."
"So I generally don't like to beat people to death."
"I like to let them know clearly that I can do it at any time."
As the words fell.
The cup of coffee in front of Edgar instantly froze into a black ice cube.
"Crack."
The cup cracked.
The black ice didn't fall.
It stopped in front of Edgar, splitting into a dozen thin ice shards as sharp as razor blades.
Every ice blade was aimed at his eyes, throat, and heart.
Bibi Labu knew very well why Li Xing said this; as long as this ability was transferred to itself, it could rightfully and justifiably use this codename with Li Xing.
Therefore, Bibi Labu jumped onto the table, looking arrogant.
"I'm awesome, right? Water control is as easy as peeing for me."
Black Noir stepped forward.
Li Xing didn't look at him.
The fire sprinkler heads on the office ceiling began to leak simultaneously.
One drop.
Two drops.
In the next second, those water droplets condensed into hundreds of thin needles, hovering around Black Noir.
The tips of the needles were less than a centimeter from the gaps in his armor.
Black Noir stopped.
Madelyn Stillwell's face changed.
Edgar remained seated.
But his fingers left the table.
Li Xing asked with a smile.
"Now, who is the product?"
No one answered.
Bibi Labu loved to stir up trouble.
"Kneel down and beg for mercy now, and I might spare your life."
Edgar was silent for three seconds, looking at Bibi Labu.
Then, he spoke.
"You are indeed not an ordinary asset."
Li Xing shook his head.
"Wrong."
"I am not an asset at all."
"I am a person."
Edgar looked at him.
"What do you want?"
"The right to speak."
"How much?"
"When I speak, you listen."
Madelyn Stillwell's breath hitched.
This demand was so absurd it didn't sound like a negotiation.
Yet, coming from Li Xing, it sounded like a notification.
Edgar didn't refuse immediately.
He just asked.
"Does Homelander know you came to see me today?"
Li Xing's smile deepened.
"Are you trying to sow discord?"
Edgar's tone was flat.
"Homelander is very possessive."
"He won't like his 'good brother' negotiating with me privately."
Li Xing picked up the contract on the table.
He flipped to the last page.
He saw his own name.
And a row of signature lines ready to go.
Li Xing folded the contract and stuffed it into his pocket.
Edgar looked at him.
"You're taking it away?"
Li Xing stood up.
"Taking it home to line the dog bowl."
Bibi Labu was stunned for a moment.
"Don't do that. An eighty-million-dollar contract to line a dog bowl? I'll have psychological pressure when I eat."
Li Xing walked toward the door.
Halfway there, he stopped.
"Edgar, you are smarter than Madelyn Stillwell."
"So I'll give you a piece of advice."
Edgar looked at his back.
Li Xing turned his face slightly.
"Don't treat me like Homelander."
"He wants to be a god."
"I don't."
"I just want to see if you people sitting on the top floor will have a worse expression than ordinary people when you fall."
The water vapor dissipated.
The ice blades fell back into the cup.
The fire sprinklers stopped dripping.
The water needles around Black Noir disappeared.
The door opened.
Li Xing left with Bibi Labu.
The office was quiet again.
Madelyn Stillwell finally spoke.
"Sir, he is out of control."
Edgar didn't speak.
He opened the drawer and took out a black file from the bottom.
The cover of the file had no company logo.
Only a line of old words.
[ SOLDIER BOY ]
...
When Li Xing returned to the apartment, it was already noon.
Bibi Labu rushed into the room and jumped onto the sofa immediately.
"Scared the dog to death."
"That old black guy has something, sitting there like a coffin lid come to life."
"Damn, those water needles were about to poke his eyes out, and he didn't even blink."
Li Xing took off his suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
"He is Vought International's real boss."
"Not the kind of goods like Madelyn Stillwell who uses emotions to bind people."
Bibi Labu tilted its head.
"Then why are you acting so pretentious?"
Li Xing walked to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of ice water.
"If I don't act pretentious, he'll think I'm negotiable."
"If I'm negotiable, he can lower the price."
"If I'm not negotiable, he'll change his game plan."
Bibi Labu blinked.
"Don't understand."
"Simply put, he's going to start playing his cards."
Li Xing sat on the sofa and turned on the TV.
The news channel was still playing news about Vought's new hero.
On the screen, his official photo in a suit with the dog appeared repeatedly.
The host spoke very fast.
"Vought International's new member 'Li Xing and Dog' has sparked huge controversy."
"Religious groups are protesting his 'Satan' persona."
"Young people, however, think this is Vought's most memorable marketing in recent years."
"Merchandise hasn't been released yet, but online secondary creations have already exceeded a million."
Bibi Labu sat up straight when it heard the word "merchandise."
"Does the merchandise sell for money?"
"Yes."
"Will you share with me?"
"No."
"You're really despicable."
Li Xing took a sip of water.
Next, he didn't plan to take the initiative.
The Boys would go to investigate the noodle shop.
Starlight would continue to see Vought's true face.
Homelander would become more and more disobedient.
Edgar would look for new balancing chips.
The internet would push "Li Xing and Dog" in front of everyone.
...
A week passed quickly.
During this week, the protesters downstairs at Vought Tower didn't disperse.
Translucent's disappearance turned from an urban legend into a national conspiracy theory.
Some said he died during a mission.
Some said he betrayed the United States and defected to the Dragon Kingdom.
Others said he was eaten by the new "Satan."
Li Xing's popularity became more and more outrageous.
At first, the whole internet was scolding him.
On the third day, people started editing videos of him entering and leaving Vought Tower.
On the fifth day, the first batch of fan accounts appeared.
On the seventh day, a new topic appeared on Twitter.
[ How much does it cost to breed Li Xing's beagle? ]
Chapter 19: Just Like a Walk
Vought Tower, PR Department.
It was 4:00 AM, and the entire floor was ablaze with light.
Coffee cups were piled in the corners of desks, printers were churning out paper until they were scorching hot, and dozens of PR staff stared at their screens, their eyes bloodshot.
The conspiracy theories about Translucent's disappearance could no longer be contained.
Someone had started a livestream online, claiming they had dreamed of Translucent, who told them in the dream that Vought had chopped him into mincemeat.
The livestream had three hundred thousand viewers.
Someone else had photoshopped Li Xing's official poster into a funeral portrait.
The caption read: "The new Satan ate Translucent."
It was absurd beyond belief.
Madelyn Stillwell stood before the main screen; the bandages on her wrists had been replaced with skin-colored wristbands.
She hadn't slept.
She didn't dare to sleep either.
Ashley clutched a stack of proposals, her voice dry.
"Madam Vice President, religious groups are demanding that Vought issue a public apology."
"The Veterans Association is demanding that Homelanderexplain his stadium speech."
"Translucent's fans have placed candles outside the company building."
"Also, the 'Li Xing and Dog' topic is trending higher again."
Madelyn closed her eyes.
"What rank?"
Ashley swallowed hard.
"First."
Madelyn opened her eyes and looked at the screen.
Trending #1: [ Li Xing and Dog ]
Trending #2: [ Where did Translucent go ]
Trending #3: [ Feeling like Homelander hasn't been in the zone lately ]
Madelyn turned around and took a deep breath.
Madelyn picked up an electronic pen and wrote "M13 Gang" on the main screen.
"Draft a statement."
"Translucent has not disappeared."
"He is currently carrying out a long-term secret mission involving Vought and federal law enforcement agencies."
"The target is a transnational criminal organization, M13."
The PR director understood immediately.
"So, we can't disclose his location due to national security concerns?"
"Correct."
Madelyn spoke quickly.
"Direct all media questioning Translucent's whereabouts to national security."
"Label everyone questioning Vought's transparency as sabotaging anti-gang operations."
"Have a few cooperative congressmen speak out, emphasizing that M13 threatens the safety of American communities."
"Arrange interviews with victims' families—the more miserable they cry, the better."
Ashley recorded this quickly.
"What about Li Xing?"
The Conference Room went quiet for a moment.
On the screen, the photo of Li Xing in a suit with a dog was still scrolling.
He had one hand in his pocket, and a beagle was squatting at his feet, rolling its eyes.
He didn't look like a hero at all. He looked like he was there to collect protection money.
Madelyn stared at the photo, her tone cooling slightly.
"Li Xing's addition is because The Seven needs a new dimension."
"He is not a traditional hero."
"He represents unpredictability, represents boundaries, and represents Vought's openness in the new era."
The PR director probed, "And the 'Satan' persona..."
Madelyn glanced at him. The PR director immediately shut his mouth.
Madelyn continued, "Don't whitewash it."
"Admit he is dangerous, admit he is controversial."
"But emphasize one point."
"Danger does not equal evil."
"America needs the light that is Homelander, but it also needs the shadow that is Li Xing."
Ashley whispered, "Wouldn't that be too extreme?"
Madelyn didn't speak.
Because this narrative wasn't what she liked.
She liked control, she liked gentleness, and she liked hiding a knife inside a bouquet.
But Li Xing was not a bouquet. He was the knife.
Then she would sell the knife.
Just then, the red dedicated line on the table rang.
The entire PR Department stopped what they were doing simultaneously.
Madelyn picked up the phone. "This is Madelyn Stillwell."
A hurried male voice came from the other end.
"Madam Vice President, there is an emergency."
"Flight 37 has been hijacked."
Madelyn's gaze changed. "Details."
"Paris to Chicago, 123 passengers, 9 crew members."
"At least three hijackers, possibly carrying explosive devices."
"The plane is currently over the Atlantic Ocean, deviating from its course."
"White House is holding an emergency meeting."
No one in the PR Department spoke. Everyone was looking at Madelyn Stillwell.
This sudden event seemed to reopen a door.
The military channel ruined by Homelander's stadium speech was now laid out before her again.
Madelyn gripped the phone tightly. "Vought can handle it."
The call ended. She turned around immediately.
"Contact Homelander, contact Maeve."
Ashley dialed immediately. Thirty seconds later, she looked up.
"Maeve picked up; she's on her way."
"Homelander isn't answering."
Madelyn's expression darkened. "Keep calling."
Ashley dialed three more times. No answer.
Madelyn took out her own phone and dialed Homelander's private number directly.
It rang for a long time. Finally, it connected.
There was no sound on the other end.
Madelyn suppressed her emotions. "John, Flight 37 has been hijacked."
"The Department of Defense is waiting for our response."
"You need to head out immediately."
Sounds of a TV program came from the other end, along with the clinking of glass.
Homelander was sitting in The Seven's Conference Room. A glass of milk sat on the table.
He was watching the Li Xing poster looping on the TV.
The host was praising Li Xing's controversial marketing.
Homelander didn't look at his phone. "Let them wait."
Madelyn took a deep breath. "There are 132 people on that plane."
"Then let them pray."
Madelyn's voice tightened. "John, this is not the time to be willful."
The other end was quiet for two seconds. Homelanderchuckled.
"Willful?"
"Madelyn, are you trying to teach me how to be a hero again?"
Madelyn's hand holding the phone tightened. "This is an opportunity."
"As long as you save Flight 37, the Department of Defensewill reconsider the partnership."
"You will become the person they need."
Homelander finally turned his head to look at the phone. His voice was flat.
"They have always needed me."
"They just aren't smart enough."
The call ended.
Madelyn stood where she was, her chest heaving once.
Ashley said cautiously, "Madam Vice President..."
Madelyn turned around. "Contact Li Xing."
Brooklyn apartment.
Bibi Labu was lying on the sofa with a tablet in front of him.
The screen was playing a fan edit.
The title was: [ Is the Beagle the real BOSS? The dog shadow behind Vought's new hero ]
Bibi Labu was watching with great interest.
"Well edited. Looks like everyone is smart and knows I'm the key figure."
"This soundtrack has something to it."
"Look at these comments; they say I have the aura of a king."
Li Xing sat nearby, holding that 80-million-dollar contract.
The contract had been cut into pieces and placed under the dog bowl.
In the dog bowl was vodka mixed with canned food.
Li Xing glanced at it. "You have quite the sense of ritual when you eat."
Bibi Labu sighed. "80 million dollars under a food bowl. I've never been this rich in my life."
The phone rang. Li Xing answered.
Madelyn's voice came through. "Flight 37 has been hijacked."
"I need you and Homelander to take action immediately."
Li Xing leaned back on the sofa. "I'm not the Department of Homeland Security."
"You are now a member of The Seven."
"Codename: Li Xing and Dog."
Bibi Labu immediately looked up. "Is there something for me? How is the appearance fee calculated?"
Li Xing glanced at it.
Madelyn was in no mood to pay attention to dog barking.
"This is Vought's chance to regain the Department of Defense's trust."
"Homelander isn't cooperating."
"Go find him."
Li Xing laughed. "Madelyn, your first reaction when trouble hits isn't to find John anymore, but to find me."
The other end was silent.
Li Xing got up and walked to the window.
On the street, a few reporters were squatting downstairs.
One of them was holding a telephoto lens pointed at his window.
Li Xing raised his hand. Water vapor outside the window condensed into a blurry film, blocking the lens.
"Where is the plane?"
"Over the North Atlantic. I'll send you the coordinates."
"Fine. Haven't moved my body in a while; I'll treat it as a warm-up."
Vought Tower, The Seven's Conference Room.
Homelander sat in the main seat. The TV was still on.
The news feed cut to an emergency broadcast.
The host spoke extremely fast.
"According to multiple sources, a transoceanic flight from Paris to Chicago is suspected to have been hijacked..."
Homelander watched the screen, his face expressionless.
The door opened. Li Xing walked in.
Bibi Labu followed behind, its four paws gripping the carpet.
"Sigh, if only the job every day was just lying on the sofa watching TV."
Homelander turned his head. Seeing Li Xing, he rarely flashed his signature smile.
"Madelyn sent you?"
Li Xing pulled out a chair and sat down.
"She asked me to persuade you to save the plane."
Homelander stared at him. "Then what do you plan to do?"
Li Xing lit a cigarette. "If you want to go, go. If you don't, then forget it."
Homelander was stunned.
Li Xing didn't continue to push him. He just glanced out the window, his tone suddenly softening.
"Forget it, let's not talk about this."
Homelander looked up at him.
Li Xing picked up his jacket, as if it were truly just a whim.
"Want to go out for a walk?"
Homelander didn't answer.
Li Xing smiled.
"It's too noisy downstairs at Vought, and the office is full of surveillance and lies. Don't you find it annoying?"
Homelander's eyes flickered slightly.
Li Xing continued, "Just think of it as a walk."
"And take a look at what's going on with that plane while we're at it."
"If it's just a few ordinary people causing trouble, you can solve it with a wave of your hand."
"If not, then it's even more important for you to see it with your own eyes."
Homelander stared at him. "You want me to save people?"
"No." Li Xing shook his head.
"I want you to go out and get some fresh air."
He paused, his tone calm.
"As for the people on the plane, they just happened to be on the path of your walk."
Homelander didn't speak.
Li Xing looked at him, lowering his voice a little.
"Besides, John."
"If you handle this beautifully, the whole world will look at you again."
"Whether it's Vought, the Department of Defense, or Edgar, they will all have to recalculate your value."
"By then, whatever you want won't be a request."
"It will be what they owe you."
As soon as he finished speaking, the air in the office temperature dropped suddenly.
Homelander's body, which had been leaning on the sofa, instantly vanished.
"Bang!"
The next second, he was already right in front of Li Xing.
Their noses were almost touching, and Homelander's eyes began to glow red.
The faint smell of ozone burning permeated the air.
Homelander's voice was gentle, as if coaxing a child, but the muscles at the corners of his eyes were twitching madly.
"Who do you think you're talking to?"
"Do you think that using these cheap psychological tricks will allow you to manipulate me like that bitch Madelyn?"
Bibi Labu was so scared that a whimper escaped its throat, and it quickly scurried under the sofa.
Li Xing was pinned firmly to the chair by that immense pressure, but he didn't avoid those red eyes.
Li Xing slowly took a drag of the cigarette in his hand and exhaled the smoke to the side.
Li Xing's tone remained calm, even carrying a hint of indifferent laziness.
"I cannot manipulate a god, John."
"I am simply reminding you how a god should make those mortals shut up."
The red light flickered in the depths of Homelander's eyes.
A few seconds of dead silence felt as long as a century.
Suddenly, the red light in Homelander's eyes extinguished.
He straightened up abruptly, the gloom on his face wiped away, replaced by an extremely exaggerated, even somewhat neurotic, brilliant smile.
"Ha... haha!"
He laughed out loud, reached out, and patted Li Xing's shoulder hard, with enough force to almost crush Li Xing's collarbone.
"Brother, you're right! They really do need to recalculate my value!"
"Without me, they are nothing—a bunch of useless trash!"
Homelander didn't even look at Li Xing again, heading straight for the door.
"Let's go, Li."
Homelander didn't look back, his voice filled with high-and-mighty arrogance and haughtiness.
"Let's go for a walk."
"And let those idiots see who the real savior of this world is."
Li Xing rubbed his shoulder, watching that back draped in the Stars and Stripes, and crushed the cigarette butt.
"What about Maeve?"
Li Xing smiled. "I'm going with you this time."
Homelander looked at him. "Can you fly?"
"No."
Li Xing raised his hand. The water glass on the table exploded. Water wrapped around his wrist and turned into a thin film of water.
"But I can hitch a ride."
Seeing this, Bibi Labu turned and ran. "I suddenly remembered I didn't turn off the gas."
Li Xing grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. "We use an induction cooker. Where the hell would there be gas?"
"Then the gas in my heart isn't turned off!"
One minute later. Top floor of Vought Tower. The wind was strong.
Homelander stood at the edge, his cape flapping loudly.
Li Xing stood beside him, holding the dog in one hand.
Bibi Labu curled its four legs into a ball.
"I swear, if I come back alive this time, I'll never say I'm the key to traffic again."
Homelander looked into the distance. "Coordinates."
Li Xing handed him the phone. Homelander glanced at it.
The next second, he grabbed Li Xing's arm.
"Are you ready?"
Li Xing smiled. "Fly a bit slower."
Homelander's lips curled up. "I'll try."
Boom! The airflow on the top floor exploded.
Two figures shot into the sky.
New York rapidly shrank beneath their feet.
Bibi Labu's scream was torn apart by the wind. "F—u—c—k—y—o—u—"
Chapter 20: Perfect Solution
Over the Atlantic Ocean.
Flight 37 was shaking violently in the clouds like an iron fish with a broken tail.
In the cabin, the sounds of crying were drowned out by the roar of the engines.
A bearded man held a pistol, sweeping the muzzle from the first row to the last.
"Wallet!"
"Watch!"
"Phone!"
"Take them all out!"
He roared, speaking rapidly, his eyes bloodshot.
Another robber carried a black gym bag, collecting items row by row down the aisle.
Whoever was slow, he would smash with the butt of his gun.
A middle-aged man shielded his daughter in his arms; just as he opened his mouth to beg for mercy, the gun butt smashed into his forehead.
Blood flowed down the bridge of his nose.
The daughter screamed.
The robber turned his head, pressing the muzzle against the girl's face.
"Shut up!"
The girl immediately bit her lip, tears falling.
At the front of the cabin lay a Flight attendant.
Her white shirt was stained red with blood.
Her eyes were open, her fingers still clutching the seatbelt buckle.
Before she died, she must have wanted to push a passenger back into their seat.
No one dared to look at her for too long.
Because the third robber was standing right next to her.
He stepped on the corpse, cursing under his breath.
"Americans are so rich."
"God bless you all."
"Too bad, God is under our control now."
Just as he finished speaking, a dull, thunderous sound suddenly came from the cabin door on the left side of the plane.
Bang!
The entire plane shook violently.
The next second, the cabin door was torn open from the outside.
The high-altitude turbulence poured into the cabin like an invisible giant hand.
Paper cups, blankets, magazines, and the passengers' screams were all swept toward the door.
The robber stepping on the Flight attendant's corpse didn't even have time to turn his head.
His body was lifted into the air.
"Ah—"
The scream only lasted halfway.
He had already been sucked out of the plane, disappearing into the clouds.
The temperature in the cabin plummeted.
Everyone grabbed their seats tightly; some screamed for God, some for their mothers, and some were so scared they peed themselves.
At the cabin door, Homelander hooked the outer edge of the fuselage with one hand, his cape pulled straight by the gale.
Li Xing stood beside him, his black coat pressed against his body by the wind pressure.
He grabbed the door frame with one hand, and held the back of Bibi Labu's neck with the other.
Bibi Labu had its four legs curled into a ball, its dog face deformed by the wind.
"Holy shit!"
"Is this a rescue?"
Homelander tilted his head to look at it.
"Your dog talks too much."
Li Xing threw Bibi Labu into the cabin.
"It's like this, just use Heat Vision to scare him."
Bibi Labu rolled twice in the aisle, bumping into the feet of an old Black woman.
The old woman was so scared she clutched her Bible.
Bibi Labu lifted its dog head and coughed twice.
"Madam, don't be afraid."
"I am a Vought auxiliary priest, specializing in curing high-altitude hypotension."
The old woman didn't understand dog language.
But seeing a dog fall from the sky into the plane, she was even more terrified.
How could there be a dog on this plane?
Homelander walked into the cabin, his boots stepping on the floor.
The strong air current was still sucking things out.
Li Xing raised his hand.
The water vapor in the air condensed rapidly, turning into a translucent film of water that sealed the broken cabin door.
The sound of the wind dropped suddenly, and the people in the cabin finally saw them clearly.
"Homelander!"
Someone shouted, and these three words were like an electric current; the passengers' eyes lit up.
The robbers also saw Homelander.
The robber with the bag turned pale instantly, turning his pistol to aim at Homelander's chest.
"Don't move!"
Homelander smiled and spread his hands.
"Are you sure?"
The robber pulled the trigger.
Bang, bang, bang!
The bullets hit Homelander's chest.
The bullet heads deformed and fell to the ground.
Homelander stood in place, not even his shoulders swayed.
A suppressed gasp came from the cabin.
Homelander's smile grew wider.
He loved this moment.
Fear turning into hope.
Hope turning into worship.
Everyone's eyes were glued to him.
This feeling was sweeter than milk.
The robber with the bag turned to run.
A red light lit up.
Chi!
Two beams of Heat Vision passed through his back.
A charred hole exploded in the man's chest, and his body hit a seat and went limp.
The last robber roared and raised his gun to sweep across the crowd.
Li Xing frowned.
"So noisy."
His right arm turned into water.
Water flowed out from his sleeve, instantly expanding into a huge, transparent water claw.
The water claw crossed the aisle and grabbed the robber's head.
The robber's entire face was pressed into the water.
He struggled, fired, and the bullets slowly stopped inside the water claw.
Li Xing clenched his five fingers.
Bang.
A muffled sound came out.
The water claw let go.
The headless corpse knelt in the aisle.
Before the blood could spray out, it was swept away by the water and pressed into a red ball of water.
Li Xing flicked his hand casually.
The red water ball smashed into a trash bag.
Bibi Labu took a look and grinned.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think this was Liu Huaqiang buying melons."
"Exploding it just like that."
The cabin was deathly silent.
A few seconds later, applause erupted.
A man stood up and clapped while crying.
Then a second, a third.
All the surviving passengers were applauding.
Everyone was shouting for Homelander, shouting long live America, crying and saying thank you.
Homelander stood in the center of the cabin, his chest slowly straightening.
He looked at these people.
These mortals.
These people who were trembling from a few guns just a moment ago.
Now they were looking up at him.
Yes.
This is how it should be.
Homelander raised his hands, signaling everyone to be quiet.
"It's okay now."
His voice slowed down.
"I am Homelander."
"As long as I am here, you will be safe."
"You should be thanking me, not America, and not Vought."
The passengers cheered again.
Homelander smiled brightly.
At that moment, he became the hero on TV again.
Perfect.
Clean.
Powerful.
He turned his head and looked at Li Xing.
"Also, applaud for my good brother, Li."
The passengers were stunned for a moment.
Then the applause rang out again.
Only this time, there was a bit of fear in the applause.
They had seen Li Xing squeeze a person's head until it exploded.
Homelander killed like God punishing sin.
Li Xing killed as if he just wanted to.
Li Xing leaned against a seat and lit a cigarette.
"Thanks."
"But I suggest you clap a little less, the plane hasn't landed yet."
The applause stopped.
Bibi Labu climbed onto an empty seat and shook its fur.
"Hear that? Don't pop the champagne early."
"Movies these days don't even dare to act like this; the hijackers only brought three people?"
"Damn, do they think hijacking is a dojo? Can they show some respect."
Li Xing's hand holding the cigarette paused.
He looked toward the front of the cabin.
The cockpit door was closed.
Under the crack of the door, there was a shallow bloodstain.
The blood was fresh.
It was seeping out from the door crack.
Homelander saw it too.
His smile faded.
Li Xing bit the cigarette and walked toward the cockpit.
"John."
"There's one more."
Red light flashed in Homelander's eyes for a moment.
The passengers, who had just let their guard down, became tense again.
A Flight attendant said tremblingly, "They... they went into the cockpit before."
Li Xing raised his hand, signaling her to shut up.
He stood in front of the cockpit door; the lock had been locked from the inside.
Homelander raised his hand.
"I can rip it open."
Li Xing pressed his wrist.
"There's a pilot inside."
Homelander looked at him.
Li Xing smiled.
"We are here to save people today."
"At least that's how the press release has to be written."
Homelander's mouth twitched.
"You're becoming more and more like Madelyn Stillwell."
"No."
Li Xing put his hand on the door.
"I'm just better at cleaning up messes than her."
Water vapor seeped into the door crack.
One second.
Two seconds.
A small click came from inside the door lock.
The cabin door opened slowly.
Inside the cockpit, the co-pilot was lying next to his seat with his throat cut.
Blood flowed under the instrument panel.
The pilot was sitting in the main pilot's seat, holding the control stick with both hands, his forehead covered in sweat.
A thin, tall man stood behind him.
The man was holding the pilot's hair with his left hand and a short knife in his right, the blade pressed against the pilot's throat.
His eyes were full of bloodshot veins.
"Back off!"
"All of you, back the fuck off!"
"Otherwise I'll slit his throat!"
Homelander looked at him like he was looking at an ant.
"Are you threatening me?"
The robber's voice trembled.
"I know who you are."
"I know you're fast."
"But the knife is already against him!"
"If you dare to move, he dies!"
Homelander and Li Xing looked at each other.
The next second, both of them laughed at the same time.
The robber was confused by this laugh.
He had thought they would be angry.
That they would negotiate, be worried about the hostage.
But he never thought they would laugh.
And such a wanton laugh at that.
Li Xing took a step forward.
"Kid, you seem to have a huge misunderstanding about speed."
The robber applied force to his wrist.
The blade cut the pilot's skin, and a line of blood oozed out.
"Don't come over!"
Red light gathered in Homelander's eyes.
Li Xing raised his hand to stop him.
"Don't cut the cockpit away."
Homelander shrugged.
"Then you do it."
Li Xing nodded.
"I'll do it."
Li Xing stretched out his hands.
All the moisture in the cockpit moved.
The sweat beads on the pilot's forehead stopped.
The blood in the co-pilot's pool of blood trembled slightly.
The saliva on the robber's lips retracted into his mouth.
His gaze changed from fierce to confused, and then to fear.
He suddenly realized he couldn't swallow.
The blood in his body felt like it was being grabbed by countless hands.
Li Xing's five fingers tightened slowly.
The robber's skin began to lose water, his lips cracked, his eyeballs sank, and the fingers holding the knife shriveled rapidly.
The short knife fell from his hand.
Clang.
The knife fell to the ground.
The pilot shrank his neck suddenly, gasping for air.
The thin, tall robber was still standing.
But he was no longer in human shape.
He opened his mouth, wanting to beg for mercy.
But his tongue was like a piece of air-dried meat, unable to make a sound.
Li Xing looked at him.
"Little shit, weren't you quite talkative just now?"
The robber's knees bent, and he fell to his knees on the ground.
His body shrank into a mummified corpse.
Bang.
It fell over.
Only the alarm sound remained in the cockpit.
Homelander looked at the corpse and raised an eyebrow.
"This move is not bad."
Li Xing withdrew his hand.
"I have many more moves."
Bibi Labu poked its head in to take a look and immediately shrank back.
"Although I've seen it once, seeing it again still feels brutal."
The pilot's hands were still shaking.
Homelander walked over and pressed his shoulder.
"Fly the plane back."
The pilot's lips trembled.
"The autopilot was turned off, the co-pilot is dead, I... I need to contact the ground."
Homelander heard the words "is dead" and his expression became a little impatient.
"Then contact them."
Li Xing looked at the instrument panel.
Several red warning lights were on; the cabin door was damaged, air pressure was abnormal, and the fuel line was alarming.
He was not a pilot.
But he knew one thing.
This plane was not as stable as it looked.
Li Xing bent down, took the communication headset from the co-pilot's chest, and put it on the pilot's head.
"Talk to the tower."
The pilot nodded and called out with a trembling voice.
"This is Vought Flight 37."
"The hijackers have been subdued."
"The co-pilot is dead."
"The fuselage is damaged, requesting an emergency landing at the nearest airport."
The tower's voice soon came over the radio.
The pilot began to report the altitude, heading, and fuel situation.
Homelander stood to the side, losing interest after ten seconds.
He returned to the cabin.
When the passengers saw him come out, they started applauding again.
Homelander raised his hand to suppress the applause.
"Everyone."
"The danger has been resolved."
"You will go home safely."
Someone asked while crying, "Did you save us?"
Homelander smiled.
"We did."
After he finished speaking, he looked at Li Xing.
Li Xing had just come out of the cockpit.
The soles of his shoes were not stained with blood.
There was no blood on his body either.
Only cigarette ash had fallen on his cuffs.
The passengers' eyes fell on him.
Fear.
Gratitude.
Mixed together.
A little boy timidly raised his phone and looked at Li Xing.
"Can I... can I take a picture?"
Li Xing looked at him without speaking.
The little boy realized he was being a bit offensive and immediately put his phone down.
"Sorry."
Li Xing walked over, picked up the phone, and turned on the front camera.
He squatted next to the little boy and smiled.
Bibi Labu, knowing how to handle traffic, immediately jumped onto the seat and tried its hardest to squeeze its dog head into the frame.
Homelander also walked over and stood behind them.
Click.
The photo was frozen.
Homelander stood in the middle.
Li Xing was half-squatting, smiling not like a hero.
Bibi Labu was rolling its eyes.
The little boy was crying with snot he hadn't wiped clean.
Li Xing returned the phone to him.
"When you post it, remember to censor the dog."
Bibi Labu got angry.
"Why?"
"My face is very valuable now!"
Someone in the cabin couldn't help but laugh out loud.
The tense fear finally relaxed a little.
Homelander listened to the laughter, watching those faces that had rekindled hope.
He was very satisfied.
He was even a little grateful to Li Xing.
If it weren't for Li Xing, he wouldn't have come.
If he hadn't come, this applause wouldn't have belonged to him.
A very successful operation; although it was bridging for Vought, it didn't matter.
Anyway, Vought would eventually belong to Li Xing, and Li Xing didn't care about that at all.
For the remaining time until landing, Homelander and Li Xing kept taking pictures with the passengers.
Just before the plane was about to land, the two men and one dog left.