The Boys Extra: Prologue

This is a spin-off of * the Boys *!! It's the same TV series as Homelander, and has nothing to do with the main story!! Don't subscribe if you don't want to watch it!!!

In the dimly lit corridor, a Doctor in a white coat and mask pushed a small cart slowly. His leather shoes cast a slightly cold shadow on the clean floor. He slowed his pace and finally stopped in front of a door.

Looking through the crack in the door, past his shoes, I saw another pair of feet standing behind the door; clearly, someone was blocking the door.

The Doctor put the trolley aside, reached out and gently knocked on the door. When there was no response, he said in a very gentle tone, as if coaxing a child, "No, Cindy, open the door. It's time for your medicine."

There was still no response from inside. The Doctor gripped the doorknob and said, "You don't need any treatment this week. Just take your medication. I swear, no one will bother you again..."

The atmosphere in the corridor and the room was quiet. The dim lights flickered, making the hospital look somewhat eerie. A Gauntlet hand reached over the medicine box on the trolley, gently tapped the top of the medicine bottles with a finger, then pulled one out and flicked the cap.

Upon hearing this sound, the pair of feet inside the crack in the door began to tremble, and soft sobs drifted from the crack. "No... no..."

"Now, open the door. I don't want to say it a third time." The Doctor's voice remained calm, but the end of his sentence carried an undeniable chill.

The crying inside grew louder and louder. With a "click," the door opened a crack, and the Doctor pushed it in. A bald female patient in a hospital gown was leaning against the wall, her hands on either side of the wall, as if this gave her some sense of security.

The Doctor went in without looking at her, then turned back, pushed the trolley in, and began operating on it. He said, "Starting today, the dosage has been reduced, and you'll also have two hours of fresh air time each day, but you have to promise me, Cindy..."

The Doctor took out a syringe and drew medicine from the vial. As he worked, he said, "You can't use your telekinesis to damage the fence. Remember last time? You ruined the newly repaired hedge, forcing me to call the Gardener again. That's not right."

The female patient named Cindy, upon hearing the word "hedge," seemed to have a switch flipped through her fear. She sobbed, constantly hiding in the corner, shaking her head and saying, "No, no, I don't want to go out..."

"Going out for a walk to clear your head will be good for your condition, Cindy. Think about your mother. Didn't I invite her here before? She's really worried about your condition."

Upon hearing the word "mother, "Cindy closed her eyes in despair. As if all her strength had been drained, she slid slowly down the wall, finally sitting on the ground, hugging her knees with both hands, and burying her head in her arms.

"You're crazy... Please let us go, please let me go..." she sobbed intermittently, but the Doctor remained unmoved. He said, "It seems you're experiencing some more Vision and auditory hallucinations."

"Don't do that, Cindy. Only by cooperating with the treatment can your condition improve."

The Doctor finally prepared the syringe, and a few drops of medicine dripped from the needle. He took the syringe, knelt down, and looked at Cindy, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to lecture you. I know you're afraid of teachers because you were raped by your math teacher when you were young, and it's not a good memory..."

Cindy's body began to tremble violently, but the Doctor moved closer and closer, almost whispering in her ear, "... Yes, I know. You're terrified because your mother sent you to his tutoring center and, after finding out what he did, asked you to blackmail him into giving you money..."

Cindy's body was trembling violently. The Doctor reached out and stroked Cindy's back with his Gauntlet hand, saying, "Don't worry, everything will be alright."

"If you're in too much pain, the medication can calm you down. Listen, take a deep breath... Yes, turn your head to the side, I'm going to give you an injection."

Cindy trembled more and more violently, but she unconsciously did as the Doctor said, seemingly hoping that the medication would alleviate some of her current pain.

She slowly turned her head to the side until she felt a sharp object pierce her vein. As the medication flowed through her bloodstream, she gained a long-lost sense of peace, then slowly curled up in the corner and fell asleep.

After removing the syringe, the Doctor stood up and turned to look at the sunset outside the window. In the light of the setting sun, he could see the sign standing outside the abandoned mental hospital. The slightly old sign had the name of the mental hospital written in cursive English: "The Sage Grove".

As the setting sun cast its light through the window, a man in a caregiver's uniform was sweeping the floor when he suddenly heard a series of leather shoes clicking on the floor. Instantly, he froze.

With a soft click of the doorknob turning, the door creaked open, and a Doctor in a white coat and mask walked in. He turned around, waved to the caregiver with a broom, and said, "Lamplighter, come and help me. The wheels on this cart seem to be broken."

The caregiver, called the Lamplighter, quickly put down his broom and went over. He squatted down, glanced at the wheel, and said, "Oh, Doctor Schiller, it seems the bearing is stuck. Wait a minute..."

As he spoke, he stood up again, looked around, and said with some difficulty, "I might need a wrench. I'll go to the Tool Room to get it."

"No, don't go yet. Let's take it back to the preparation room first. Today's exercise time is about to begin, and you still need to help."

The Lamplighter froze for a moment, then looked up at the Doctor was just taking off his mask.

This was a Doctor perfectly embodied the image of Doctor. He appeared mature, composed, and refined, with a scholarly air about him. His voice was always gentle, and he was very patient with his patients. However, upon seeing his face, the Lamplighter immediately averted his gaze. He quickly turned away and placed his hand above his lips, seemingly trying to conceal his expression.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor, Schiller, turned to look at him and said, "Are you feeling unwell again? Where's your lighter? A comforting object can help you calm down."

"No, it's nothing..." The Lamplighter took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, before turning back to Schiller and asking, "Who's here for exercise time today? Cindy will..."

"No, she just took her medication and is now asleep. Her mood has been very stable lately, and I think she can participate in outdoor activities tomorrow or the day after."

"Wait." The Lamplighter suddenly spoke, fidgeting with his fingers, the muscles in his arm trembling slightly. He said, "I heard from the Doctor that Stormfront is supposed to be coming to this hospital tomorrow. She... is very difficult to deal with, Doctor, we..."

"It's alright, everything as usual." Schiller shook his head, seemingly unconcerned. After a pause, he said, "Okay, I'll increase Xindi's dosage tomorrow so she won't run away."

After saying that, he pushed the somewhat malfunctioning trolley out, and the Lamplighter followed behind him, saying, "Doctor, let me push it; it looks badly broken."

"It's okay. How have you been lately? Are the compulsive behaviors still occurring frequently?"

"There's one more thing..." The person lighting the lamp lowered his head and sighed, saying, "Sometimes, I still wake up in the middle of the night, walk to the mirror, or pace around the bed. I can't really control myself."

"It's okay. No treatment can be effective in one step. There is no magic drug in this world that can quickly cure all diseases. If someone says there is, they are definitely lying to you."

"Thank you." The Lamplighter stepped forward, took the trolley from Schiller, and pushed it forward. He said, his voice trembling slightly, "You are a good Doctor... the best Doctor I have ever seen."

Schiller adjusted his glasses and asked him, "Have you seen any other Doctor? You didn't tell me before."

The Lamplighter suddenly trembled, and he stammered, "Yes, but not Doctor who treats mental illnesses. I was burned before and went to see Doctor in the burn unit myself..."

What did he say?

The Lamplighter gripped the handle of the cart tightly, the veins on his hands standing out, which seemed to have stirred up bad memories for him. He said, "I didn't say anything to him; it was my father who communicated with him."

"He told my dad that this kind of thing would happen often in the future." The Lamplighter seemed to hold his breath, and then he sighed as he said his next sentence, "... but my dad doesn't care."

"As I mentioned before, don't keep thinking about the people who have mentally controlled you. I know it's hard to break free from their control, but you have to try, otherwise you'll never become your true self."

The Lamplighter took two deep breaths, his fingers gradually relaxing, and then said, "I've tried it, just like you said. Actually, it feels really good. I haven't had this much rest in a long time..."

After speaking, he turned to look at Schiller. This time, he could no longer hide his expression by turning away. When he saw Schiller's eyes, he showed a hint of fear, which quickly turned into gratitude, but then back into fear.

This drastic change in expression made it look like his face was twitching uncontrollably. The Lamplighter swallowed hard, turned his head back, and tried to control his emotions.

He wondered when his dark and hopeless life began to change.

Perhaps, on a night a few months ago, after a flash of lightning, the sound of shattering glass woke him from his bed, or rather, he wasn't asleep at all.

Even now, when he recalls these events, he still finds them incredible, because back then, he saw shattered glass scattered all over a corridor, and a man in a white coat holding a job offer letter—that man was Schiller.

The Lamplighter, pushing his cart down the corridor, shook his head. He didn't remember the scene very clearly; he only remembered that Doctor Schiller had gotten up from the ground somewhat awkwardly, but without any anger on his face.

At that moment, the Lamplighter standing in the dark corridor saw Schiller open the notice in his hand, a helpless expression on his face, and then mutter to himself, "Is this how you handle a mess? Suddenly throwing me into a strange world?"

The Lamplighter saw him acting like a madman, tilting his head back and complaining to the air, "There's no business being conducted properly, it's all personal grudges."

Then he noticed Schiller looking at him Schiller asked, "Who are you?"

The Lamplighter said nothing; he simply pulled out his lighter, and a fierce flame shot from his palm toward Schiller. But the attack failed, and Schiller appeared directly behind him.

"Oh, Lamplighter, your name is Lamplighter, isn't it?" Schiller called him by his name directly, then said, "It seems this has caused quite a stir, choosing such a dangerous world after all..."

He sighed, shook his head, and said, "It seems we need a more dangerous guy to deal with all this. I'm going on vacation."

After saying that, he lowered his head and stared blankly for a moment before returning to normal. When he turned back to look at the Lamplighter and their eyes met, he saw an astonishing danger and madness in his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Schiller's calm voice pulled the Lamplighter from his reverie. The Lamplighter shook his head and said, "I was thinking about when we first met, Doctor, how exactly did you get here?"

"Didn't I show you that job offer letter? My supervisor sent me here."

The Lamplighter scratched his One Hand and said, "I know that, I just didn't expect Walter to have a... good Doctor like you."

Schiller smiled and said, "Do you think I'm a good Doctor? I remember you ran away as soon as you saw me."

The Lamplighter's relaxed expression froze again. He swallowed hard, said nothing, and walked forward with the two of them, chatting as they went. They passed through the central courtyard of the hospital and went down the stairs until they reached the first floor.

The Lamplighter turned his head to the other side, avoiding looking at the center of the hospital lobby. Schiller patted him on the shoulder and pointed to the center of the lobby, saying, "The patient in the leftmost chair isn't doing well. Change him."

The Lamplighter's lips began to tremble. As if he were being forced to turn his head, he closed his eyes and slowly turned his head toward the center of the hall. When he opened his eyes, he saw the same terrifying scene that appeared in his nightmares every day.

The hospital lobby was empty except for rows of seats meant for waiting, but now they were all occupied by people.

Or rather, it wasn't a person, but a corpse.

There were four rows of chairs, each with a body that had died in a different way. They were all fixed in the same position, with their arms crossed in front of their chests, their hands placed on either side of their necks, and their heads tilted back. The only difference was that their deaths were all bizarre.

The Lamplighter began to tremble. The images kept playing in his mind. The first person he saw sitting in the leftmost row of chairs was the one Schiller had pointed out to replace. He looked like a fat man sitting in a chair.

But the Lamplighter knew very well that Duncan was actually a skinny guy; it was just that his skin was now completely filled with dirt.

Just because he killed another patient with his superpower that could turn others into dirt, Schiller stuffed the person he had turned into dirt into his body.

The Lamplighter squeezed his eyes shut. Before that, he could clearly see the suture marks on Duncan's abdominal and thoracic cavities. He remembered clearly that when the Doctor performed the sutures, Duncan was still alive, even though he had lost more than 60% of his internal organs, he was still conscious.

The Lamplighter will never forget that after Schiller had done all this, he put on Gauntlet, shoved a seed down Duncan's throat, and said to him, "You love the soil so much, I guess becoming a flowerpot is the best place for you."

Duncan was still alive then, but his expression told the Lamplighter that he had never craved death so much.

The Lamplighter turned his head back, trembling. He stared intently at the medicine bottles on the cart, even though he didn't recognize any of the words on them. He seemed to be trying to decipher something from the bottles.

This Doctor, who always seemed so calm and gentle, killed all the unruly patients who tried to escape during his first month here, and put them in chairs.

The remaining patients also suffered torment. He used drugs and hypnosis to uncover their deepest fears, then constantly stimulated, controlled, and rescued them...

The Lamplighter knew that some people went completely insane in this torment, while others, like him, were truly saved amidst fear, pain, and suffering.

Finally, he passed through the hall. Those few dozen seconds felt like centuries to the Lamplighter. He breathed a sigh of relief and, upon reaching the preparation room, first pushed the trolley in and placed it in the correct position. Then, turning to leave, he saw Schiller's back as he stood before the preparation table. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Doctor, be careful of the Seven..."

"I will."

To the Lamplighter's surprise, Schiller answered the question directly for the first time. The Lamplighter stood at the door and turned around, seeing Schiller still fiddling with the medical instruments he didn't recognize at the table. He shook his head, then turned and left.

As Schiller stood at the table, replenishing the shelf with new vials of medicine, he recalled the plot of this world.

The Boys is an anti-superhero comic where almost all superheroes with superpowers are villains, including Homelander many are familiar with.

These superheroes all come from a company called Vought, which orchestrates storylines to make these superheroes act like heroes in order to win over the public and make money off them.

The Boys TV series has revolved around a plotline for several seasons: Vought International is not content with just being a company that produces idols; they want to privatize the war.

The show is called the Boys because another group of people were dissatisfied with the hypocritical and cruel ways these superheroes acted, so they formed the Boys to stop their evil deeds.

The Lamplighter plays an important role in the series because he used his superpowers to kill the grandson of the former leader of the Boys.

The Vought Corporation announced that the Lamplighter was dead, but in reality, they simply dumped him in this mental hospital and used him as a human cremator.

The mental hospital where Schiller is located is called "The Sage Grove," and it has a very special background. It has also appeared in TV series. Simply put, it is a laboratory that creates superheroes. The Vought International uses a special drug to modify and cultivate superheroes here, develop their special abilities, and then make money from them.

Although this is not a real mental hospital, Schiller is a real Doctor who provides very formal treatment to the patients here. However, during the treatment process, there are bound to be some disobedient people causing trouble, and the security personnel always come out to cause trouble, so they all disappear.

Perhaps because the hospital hasn't uploaded detailed experimental data and information for too long, Stormfront, one of the seven members, will be coming to inspect it ahead of schedule.

The next day, near dusk, a luxurious limousine pulled up in front of the somewhat dilapidated mental hospital. A woman with black hair stepped out of the car, talking on the phone as she walked. "Either the data clerks you hired aren't dedicated enough, or that old server is having problems again. Isn't it always like this?"

As she spoke, she opened the Iron Gate outside the mental hospital and walked inside. Before she even entered the building, she stopped and said with some confusion, "... Why do I smell blood?"

The woman wrinkled her nose hard, and the person on the other end of the phone said, "Stormfront? What's wrong? Why aren't you saying anything?"

"No... it's nothing, it's just..." Stormfront narrowed her eyes, looking around the old hospital, but seemed to see a strange, cold aura beneath its familiar exterior.

"Hmph." She hung up the phone immediately and strode inside. This was Stormfront's way of doing things; she believed that nothing in this world, no matter how mysterious or supernatural, could frighten her.

As she climbed the steps leading up to the entrance, the light shone on the door, creating a hazy glow on the glass that made it impossible for Stormfront to see what was inside.

She reached out her hand, stopped in front of the glass door, hesitated for a moment, but still pushed the door open.

Then she saw rows of "patients" sitting very neatly in the hospital lobby, waiting.

Stormfront was stunned.

Stormfront has killed many people, that's for sure, but she's never seen so many bizarre deaths. When this scene hit her eyes, the sheer volume of information was so overwhelming that it immediately brought her mind to a standstill.

Light streamed in through the windows on both sides, and all the patients maintained the same posture: hands clasped to their chests, hands on their necks, and heads tilted back, as if in prayer.

After her brain had analyzed all this information, the instant Stormfront realized what had happened, she clutched her neck and began to gag.

Suddenly, a "click" sound came from the hospital's loudspeaker, like the sound of a microphone being turned on.

Stormfront was startled. She coughed twice, straightened up, took two steps back, and said, "Who?! Who's there?!"

"Patient number 3203, please proceed to examination room 201. Patient number 3203, please proceed to examination room 201..."

A deep male voice came over the radio, a voice Stormfront had never heard before. She shook her head, the muscles in her neck twitching violently. After the initial fear, an indescribable anger surged up.

In an instant, an invisible cyclone and storm swept across the entire hospital lobby, tearing everything to shreds. Debris, dust, limbs, and blood fell down. Stormfront gasped for breath, laughing silently, and said, "Don't try to scare me with your ghostly tricks!"

Suddenly, the loudspeaker that had fallen to the ground started playing again. "Attention, it is time for the patients to go out for fresh air. All unauthorized personnel should proceed to the safe room immediately and do not leave until you hear the announcement again."

"To reiterate, it's time for the patient to go out for fresh air..."

Amid the broadcast, Stormfront suddenly heard faint footsteps behind her. She turned around abruptly and saw a man in a hospital gown standing behind her, his body crackling with electricity.

Stormfront gave a disdainful smile and was about to raise her hand to kill him when she heard more footsteps behind her. She turned around again and found countless patients in hospital gowns slowly walking towards her.

Stormfront took two steps back and said, "What do you want? I'm one of the seven members of Vought International! Do you think you can beat me? What do you want? Stop it..."

Seeing that those people not only didn't stop, but actually walked faster and faster, for some reason, Stormfront suddenly felt a sense of panic. Even though she knew that these people combined couldn't beat her, people always instinctively feel fear when surrounded by their own kind.

With a wave of her hand, Stormfront instantly turned a patient in the front row into blood foam. She then revealed a smug smile, assuming that the group would scream and run away, just like she had experienced before.

But they didn't.

The patients just stared blankly at Stormfront, then walked towards her step by step, like a group of puppets, or like a group of mindless zombies.

Anyone facing a group of monsters that resemble humans but seem devoid of any consciousness would feel a deep sense of unease and fear. Stormfront's mindset shifted; she wanted to reach out and knock them all down, but when she raised her hand, she found her fingers trembling.

The increasingly strong stench of blood kept filling his nostrils. The oppressive and gloomy atmosphere of the mental hospital made everything seem even more terrifying. Stormfront's arms began to tremble. She swallowed hard, took two steps back, and said, "You wait, Vought International won't let you get away with this!"

Just as she turned to leave, a piercing alarm blared over the loudspeaker again. "Patient 3203, please proceed to examination room 201. Patient 3203, please proceed to examination room 201..."

"Enough!!" Stormfront shouted, waving her hand and sending Havok that shattered the broadcast equipment. But the broadcast continued unabated. Only then did Stormfront realize that the sound coming from above her wasn't from the broadcast...

She turned around, looked up, and saw the figure standing on the second-floor corridor, looking down at her.

At that moment, Stormfront was unaware that her orientation and posture had become exactly the same as those of the "patients" who had been waiting in the hall.

As night deepened, a soft "swish" sound echoed in the dark lobby. In the pitch-black hospital hall, a figure holding a broom was slowly sweeping away the remains and severed limbs on the floor.

The rows of seats had been reduced to rubble by Stormfront's furious attack, and now only one chair and a black-haired female "patient" remained in the entire lobby.

The Lamplighter swept the area in front of Stormfront's corpse with his broom and noticed that one of Stormfront's legs was limply draped over a chair leg. He looked down and saw that the bone inside the shinbone had been removed.

He shook his head, not thinking too much about it, just assuming that the horrible Doctor had come up with some new idea during the surgery.

He slowly swept the floor, clearing away the mess of debris he had created during the day, making a path for people to pass through. For some reason, in such a terrifying environment, surrounded by a corpse bound in a strange position, the Lamplighter did not feel afraid.

Perhaps it was because he knew that a beast that had already eaten its fill was less dangerous.

The Lamplighter had long ago discovered that Doctor Schiller would only treat one patient a day, and if someone was already seated, it meant that everyone else was safe.

He sighed, thinking that Doctor Schiller's treatment of Stormfront had lasted almost four hours, which meant the Doctor must have eaten a good meal today, and perhaps all the patients would be able to get a good night's sleep, including himself.

But life is unpredictable. Just as he finished his work, put the broom away in the warehouse, and was about to go to sleep, he suddenly saw a beam of light flash in the window on the side of the warehouse.

The Lamplighter the lamp squinted. Although he hadn't left the mental hospital for a long time, he could still tell that it was a fleeting car headlight.

He walked to the window, opened it, looked around, and then noticed that there seemed to be several dark figures moving about in a small grove of trees not far to the east of the mental hospital.

The Lamplighter looked back as he fumbled around the wall and switched off the light. But after turning off the light, he didn't leave. Instead, he went back to the window and observed the scene through it.

Sure enough, the group in the grove seemed to think that the cleaner hadn't noticed anything amiss, and they became bolder, even turning on their car lights twice more.

The Lamplighter took a deep breath; he knew something terrible was about to happen, so he quickly opened the warehouse door and headed upstairs.

He wanted to go back to his room to sleep as soon as possible because he knew that the flashes of the car lights would definitely wake up the beast that had just finished eating and drinking.

But he was too late. Just as he was walking up the stairs, Schiller came down, buttoning up his coat. Seeing the Lamplighter, he said, "Good evening. Are you still awake?"

"Oh, not yet, Doctor. I just cleaned up down there and was about to go to bed."

"What was that bright light just now?" Schiller squinted, as if he had just been woken up. "At this hour, coming to a mental hospital like this, they must have a very urgent medical condition that needs treatment, right?"

The Lamplighter opened his mouth, unsure how to answer. He thought that if those suspicious figures were from the Water Corporation, he should give a definite answer immediately, so that there would be a few more patients waiting in the center of the hospital lobby tomorrow.

Schiller waved his hand impatiently and said, "Bring them over here for me. I'll wait for them in the examination room."

With that, he turned and went upstairs.

After Schiller went up, the Lamplighter stood on the stairs somewhat bewildered. He thought for a moment, then turned around and went into the storeroom, picked up the broom again, and began sweeping.

As he was sweeping, he noticed three suspicious figures loitering in front of the gate. The Lamplighter walked to the side corridor and stood there for a while. Sure enough, as soon as he left, the men slipped in through the gate.

As they approached a little closer, the Lamplighter realized that there was a white man, a black man, and an Asian woman. They had just walked in through the door and were stunned by the strong smell of blood inside.

Just then, with a "snap," all the lights in the lobby turned on.

The Lamplighter walked out of the corridor carrying a broom and said, "Do you all usually infiltrate through the main entrance?"

The white man immediately pulled out a gun and pointed it at the Lamplighter. The Lamplighter squinted, not recognizing him, but after the white man with the gun adjusted to the sudden bright light, he widened his eyes and exclaimed, "Lamplighter?!"

The other two, however, did not see the Lamplighter at first glance, but rather the bizarre and terrifying scene in the hall. The Stormfront, whom they had known very well and cursed countless times, was now bound to a chair in a strange position.

Yes, it's easy to tell that it's a corpse, because below her chest and above her pelvis, only her spine remains.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, her hands were on the sides of her neck, her head was tilted back, and the look of terror on her face seemed not to have faded, but she had obviously been dead for a long time.

"What's going on?" the black man shouted. Just then, the white man, who had recognized the Lamplighter, angrily tried to fire, but the black man stopped him, shook his shoulder, and said, "Wait! Frenchie! Wake up!!"

The black man snatched his gun, grabbed his head, and shouted, "Look! Stormfront! She's dead!!"

Frenchie was about to roar angrily when he turned his head slightly and saw Stormfront's horrific death. All the words he wanted to say were instantly swallowed back, and a feeling of nausea surged up. He covered his neck and began to dry heave.

The Asian woman helped him up. After vomiting for a while, Frenchie struggled to his feet and said, "What's going on? Why are there so many... human organs in this hall..."

Just as he finished speaking, all three men's eyes fell on the broom in the Lamplighter's hand.

The Lamplighter glanced down at the blood and foam on his broom and said, "I'm just a cleaner. If you want to know what happened, you'll have to ask Doctor. The Doctor wants to see you. Come with me."

As he spoke, he turned to go upstairs, but Frenchie shouted, "Don't go with him! It's a trap! He's the one who burned Mallory's grandson alive! A cruel superhero! He's with the Seven!!"

"He is, I am not." A strange voice suddenly appeared on the second floor. The group looked up and saw a Doctor in a white coat with his arm resting on the railing. Just as they saw him, the Doctor straightened up and said, "I know what you want to do here. The hard drive storing the data of the Water Corporation is in my hands. If you want it, come over."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards a consultation room. The three people left there were caught in a dilemma: whether to leave or stay.

This is no ordinary world. If we don't leave, no one knows if the Lamplighter in front of us will suddenly erupt and burn us all to ashes, or if that mysterious Doctor has any superpowers and might kill us instantly.

But if they leave, the mission will be a complete failure, and the operation against Vought will be at a standstill.

In the end, it was the black man who made the decision. He glanced around and said in a low voice, "It seems that the Doctor is rational, unlike those crazy Superpower User."

"Perhaps this is just a trap, milk. Don't you find all of this strange?" Frenchie still disagreed.

"If there had been a trap, the three of us would be in the same boat as her by now." The black man called Milk glanced at Stormfront and, seeing Kimiko's constantly changing expression, reassured her, "If I'm not mistaken, it was that Doctor who killed Stormfront. This means he might have a grudge against the Seven."

"He killed Stormfront, took control of the hospital, and even recruited the Lamplighter. This suggests that he is likely like us, someone who is determined to oppose superheroes. If we can get his help, we will have hope of getting revenge."

Frenchie took a deep breath and, after calming down, he also felt that what the milk said made sense. If that Doctor had malicious intent, he could kill Stormfront, and they would definitely be dead long ago.

"And if he really killed Stormfront, then he must have a way to kill these superhumans. We need to get our hands on that method. Hiding like this isn't a solution."

After discussing it, Milk and Frenchie reached an agreement: they would not reveal that there were other people waiting outside, and the three of them would go up with the Lamplighter to see the Doctor.

And so, the trio followed behind the Lamplighter, traversing the dark hospital. The hospital was eerily quiet at night; in every ward, no one dared to make a sound.

An extremely terrifying and eerie atmosphere enveloped the three of them, making them quiet down, as if they were afraid of being discovered by some ferocious beast.

Upon arriving at the clinic and pushing open the door, one is greeted by a scene completely different from the outside of the hospital. It is a bright office with warm lighting that exudes a cozy atmosphere. The bookshelves are filled with all sorts of books and miscellaneous items, and a pile of documents that have not yet been tidied up sits on the desk.

The Lamplighter opened the door and let the three men in. He then stood by the door and said, "Doctor, I've brought them all with me."

"Thank you, go back and rest."

The Lamplighter nodded and left without hesitation. Frenchie turned back and stared intently at him. Milk nudged Frenchie with her elbow, and only then did Frenchie turn her head back.

But the Lamplighter's unhesitating act of turning around and leaving made Milk feel a little more worried. In his opinion, the Lamplighter was already a very powerful Superpower User, but the Doctor didn't need his protection at all.

Milk, who had been in contact with the Seven, knew very well that although these superheroes possessed immense power, they were always accompanied by a Legion bodyguards, as if they were afraid that ordinary people with no strength could harm them.

Thinking of this, Milk turned to look at the Doctor again. He looked very ordinary, just a typical Doctor. The Doctor walked behind the table, sat down, looked up at them and said, "Nice to meet you. My name is Schiller, Schiller Rodriguez. You can just call me Doctor Schiller."

"Who are you? Why are you here? What's the deal with Stormfront outside? Where's the information?" Frankie asked almost impatiently.

Milk nudged Frenchie with her elbow, signaling him not to be so impatient. Let alone facing a strange Doctor with unknown abilities, even for an ordinary person, asking so many questions on the first meeting was a bit too impolite.

Surprisingly, the Doctor wasn't angry. Schiller simply shook his head and said, "You have too many questions. Ask the one you most want to know first."

Before Frenchie could speak, Kimiko was standing next to him, began to tremble. Milk quickly comforted her and asked, "What about that... that corpse outside?"

"You should know her better than I do. She broke in here, and I killed her."

Milk opened its mouth slightly and said, "She... broke in here? But isn't this supposed to be the Vought Corporation's mental hospital?"

"Who said that?"

Milk pursed his lips, unsure how to answer the question. Schiller continued, "The psychiatric hospital of the Water Corporation? Have they cured any mental patients here?"

"I think... probably not, this place wasn't originally intended for treating mental illness, was it?"

"That's right, but I cured all the patients here, so who owns this hospital?"

Breast milk decided to stop discussing this issue with him, and he then asked, "So who exactly are you? And why did you come to this hospital?"

"As I have already introduced myself, I am Schiller Rodriguez, a Doctor. I know you may be wondering if I have any other identities, but actually I am just an ordinary Doctor."

"Like all Doctor, my duty is to treat patients. In recent months, I have achieved considerable success at this hospital. However, the woman sitting in the lobby downstairs has killed many patients waiting for their appointments, so she sits there."

Milk immediately understood that this Doctor was likely to have a grudge against the Seven. He had seen too many people like this, who had gone crazy or acted abnormally because some important relatives or friends had been killed by superheroes, or who seemed normal but were actually already insane.

So he cleared his throat and said, "We're all in the same boat as you. We're currently dealing with the Vought Corporation and its the Seven, and we're hoping to get your help."

"I know. That's why you're here." Schiller picked up his glasses from the table, put them on, glanced at the pitch-black sky outside, and said, "It's still a long time until dawn. We have time to talk."

Milk shook her head and said, "No, you killed Stormfront. They both had Vought International tracking devices inside them, and they'll find you soon..."

After saying that, Milk realized that, logically speaking, the moment Stormfront was killed, Walter should have launched a massive attack on the mental hospital. However, judging from the state of Stormfront's corpse, it didn't seem like she had just died. Yet, so much time had passed and the Seven hadn't arrived.

Milk immediately looked up and asked, "Do you have a way to block the tracker? Can you tell us?"

"As I said, let's talk first."

Schiller tapped the table and said, "I can only treat one patient at a time, so you stay here and the other two can wait in the next examination room."

Frenchie was about to refuse when Milk stepped forward and pushed him away, saying in a low voice, "You'd better listen to him. Besides, Kimiko's condition is a bit unstable right now. Go over there and keep her company."

After seeing them both out, Milk sat down opposite Schiller, looked into Schiller eyes, and asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

"Of course, it's the topic you're most interested in."

What is the topic I am most interested in?

"Superheroes".

"No, don't use that word!" Milk took a deep breath, his voice filled with barely suppressed anger. "It's not just an insult to those words, it's an insult to the language."

Schiller shook his head and said, "You've got it wrong. I'm not referring to those idiots that Wot Corporation has packaged up."

The milk stared intently into Schiller's eyes, and in them he saw a calm and deep sea. As if infected by that gaze, he gradually calmed down. Schiller said:

"I want to talk about the real superheroes I've ever seen."

Milk didn't quite understand what he meant, and he shook his head slightly. Schiller patiently explained, "I know that you've hardly encountered anything good in your life. Most people who come to this hospital are like that. Some of them are very bad, almost beyond redemption, but everyone knows that it's not their fault."

"But I'm different from you. I'm lucky that I met a lot of people who could have really become superheroes at some point."

Schiller's slightly nostalgic tone successfully drew out Milk, who looked into Schiller's eyes and asked, "... What were they like?"

"Just like you."

This was an answer completely unexpected by Milk. He didn't hear any words like "glorious," "great," or "heroic" from Schiller. Milk lowered his head, chuckled self-deprecatingly, and said, "Don't joke around, with me..."

He let out a soft, trembling sound from his nose, as if he had heard the most absurd joke in the world, Schiller said to him very seriously, "I'm not joking. They are the same as you and your companions."

"A group of ordinary people who need to eat, sleep, have their own jobs, and some are still in school."

As if hearing a myth, the milk said, "How is that possible? Superheroes shouldn't all be..."

He paused for a long time, seemingly unable to find the right adjective, and finally could only use a few empty words to describe it. "It's the kind of person who wears a battle robe and uniform, stands under the flashing lights, and shakes hands with people everywhere..."

"Aren't you talking about the Seven?"

She choked on her milk and finally said with a hint of helplessness, "Well, I really don't know anything about this kind of person."

How do you understand the terms "ordinary person," "good person," and "superhero"?

Milk hesitated for a moment, his lips moved, and then he said, "Ordinary people are like us, they don't have any superpowers. Good people... maybe there are, but I haven't seen many. Superheroes..."

He shook his head, seemingly disliking the word, but Schiller then said, "In my view, they are one."

"The people I know are all ordinary people with their own lives. They get tired, annoyed, and occasionally cause trouble."

"But they are also good people. Bloodshed and injury will not make them give up the justice they uphold. Some of them can even be described as noble."

"And superheroes..." Schiller shook his head and said, "There are no superheroes in this world, only a group of ordinary people trying to be good people."

A dry cough escaped his throat, and for some reason, he turned his head away from Schiller's gaze. He felt his eyes sting and his lips tremble. Clearly, the words reminded him of many people, including his father.

The milk finally lost control of its emotions; its breathing trembled as it spoke:

"Perhaps you don't know, but my father... he was just an ordinary person, but... he fought hard against the Vought Corporation to seek justice for the mothers infected by Vought's drugs..."

He wiped his face with breast milk and said, "In the end... he was exhausted, and that's not an adjective..."

"He didn't have any superhuman strength or Self-Healing abilities. He wasn't a superhuman. He couldn't go without sleep or food, so in the end, he died."

Milk stretched out her hands, covered her mouth, and gritted her teeth, saying, "But now, the word 'hero' has been monopolized by those charlatans. Now, whenever I read that word, I feel disgusted..."

"Then why not take it back?"

"We're working on it, but..."

"I know you are very sad, but have you ever thought that your father's experience has actually given you a wake-up call, that this method will not work."

Schiller looked into the milk's eyes, and the milk saw that the calm sea in the Doctor's eyes had suddenly surged with endless black tides. He heard Schiller say:

"They are a group of criminals."

"And the only one who can deal with criminals is criminals themselves."

Milk repeated softly, "Only criminals can deal with criminals?"

Who are you?

Who are we?

"You are seeking revenge."

"We are revenge?... Yes, we are revenge, we are..."

"... The Boys."

Let me tell you all, this was originally a free extra chapter to compensate for the various problems with the monthly pass extra chapters, but Qidian doesn't allow me to create a free volume Qidian creating a new volume, and putting it in the first volume messed up the main text.

It's only 14,000 words, and it's just the beginning. I can't keep updating it bit by bit in the author's notes.

Also, the world of Black Robe has a rather dark premise, and I'm worried about being reported if I make it free. Thank you all for subscribing; I'll be sending out red envelopes in the group later! They can be used to offset the subscription fee! (I don't quite understand the Qidian red envelope system. Can't I just give out money directly? Why do we need recommendation votes?)

Please join the group; you can find it in the profile below.