Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck!
Homelander felt like he was about to explode. I fucking let you go, so what the hell are you still yapping about?
Get lost!
Get lost right now!
PS: Uh, I had something to come up and couldn't write as originally planned, so it got temporarily moved to today, meaning this early morning chapter is updating as usual.
Homelander had already mentally rehearsed a hundred ways for the gun-toting man to die, but on the surface, he dared not show the slightest bit of panic or impatience.
"You go. I won't attack you," Homelander said with a smile.
"Really..."
The gun-toting man was about to ask more, but Homelander suddenly pulled a stern face and said coldly, "Get moving! If you don't leave right now, I'm taking back my word!"
"Going, going, going! I'm going right now!" Startled, the gun-toting man didn't dare ask any more questions, hurriedly dropped his gun, turned around, and bolted away on two legs.
"Phew..."
Seeing that annoying guy finally scram, Homelander let out a quiet sigh of relief, then closed the car door with an angry, forceful slam, snapping irritably at the bewildered driver.
"What are you looking at? Drive!"
"B-But the tire is blown..." the driver muttered in a small voice.
Homelander glared, his eyes fierce as he barked, "I told you to drive!!!"
"Driving right now, I'm driving right now!"
Homelander's terrifying prestige still lingered. Not daring to talk back, the driver could only ignore the impact of the flat tire and start the vehicle, clanking and rattling as he hit the road once again.
Half an hour later, an anxious and uneasy Homelander finally returned to Vought International without incident.
Vought International was his base of operations and his home. A solid sense of security washed over