Kick Away That Green-Clad Clown

Madelyn's skin crawled.

Staring into those eyes brimming with terrifying power felt like facing a ruthless, monstrous thing—a suffocating pressure, every cell in her body screaming of extreme danger.

"Calm down, calm down."

She recoiled in fright, waving her hands, forcing a grim smile as her trembling voice changed the subject.

"Seems I don't need to ask how you got out of that place."

The familiar scene instantly reminded her of Homelander—ready to ignite his Laser Eyes and kill at the slightest disagreement, though he'd never shown her that terrifying side.

Now she felt it too, understanding the fear others had for Homelander.

But when he was born, the company had tested his cells—just an ordinary person, with a shortened lifespan, cell vitality so weak they died quickly outside the body, deemed a failed product that hadn't inherited Homelander's powers.

So how did he have them now?

"You seem to really hate and resist Homelander?"

Seeing him dim the Laser Eyes and sit farther away, Madelyn swallowed hard, probing cautiously.

She wanted to know if the young man before her was aware of his own identity.

"Superheroes seem to be quite popular out there.

I want to join The Seven."

Ignoring her question, Ron stood up, straightened his clothes, and spoke coldly, as if he'd decided to be a superhero.

"The Seven? If the world found out we hired an eight-year-old for dangerous superhero work, the company would have a huge problem."

Madelyn cracked a joke, forcing a dry laugh, trying to politely refuse.

She didn't want Ron and Homelander to meet.

If Homelander found out she'd deceived and hidden something so important to him, that brutal, man-eating lion wouldn't be so kind to his tamer.

Zzzap!

"This isn't a request."

The Laser Eyes instantly sliced through the heavy desk nearby, scattering debris everywhere. His eyes glowing crimson, he looked at Madelyn.

Grabbing her collar, his immense strength yanked her off the couch like a ragdoll, pulling her close. His voice came like a frigid wind from Antarctica, a slow 'reminder.'

"Homelander and I do share one thing.

I've never hesitated to use my power to get what I want.

Even if it means some people have to die!"

"Okay, okay, you can join The Seven!"

Their eyes met, inches apart, a sea of red filling her vision, the threat of death overwhelming. Madelyn could barely breathe, nodding in surrender.

Seeing Ron's stubborn, unpredictable, volatile nature, she immediately understood that for now, she had to stabilize him first.

Otherwise, who knew what he'd do.

"Damn, another Homelander.

And a younger, more unfathomable, more terrifying one!" she thought in panic. It was a nightmare—another massive, unstable bomb on Earth.

"I can find some excuse right away to kick out that new member, Starlight."

"No, keep Starlight."

Walking to the window, Ron gazed at the glittering nightscape outside, looking down at the skyscrapers below.

"Find someone else to kick out."

"Someone else? Every member of The Seven is a decision the company's executives made after long, careful deliberation."

Stepping beside him, Madelyn softened her tone, trying to persuade him gently.

"Who do you want to kick out?"

"That green clown."

He stared outside, expressionless, sneering.

"Did your Vought executives add him because his power is talking to fish, so he can perform an ocean show at the company's annual party?

Or because some people like his deep-sea caviar?"

The Seven was modeled after DC's Justice League, and Aquaman's presence and role in the League were already weak enough.

The Deep, a low-rent version of Aquaman, was even more useless.

His peak moment was showing off once at the start, sexually harassing Starlight, and the rest of the time he was a clown.

"The Deep? He's very popular with environmentalists, especially ocean conservationists. In that area, almost no other hero can replace him."

Everyone knows how weak the Deep is.

But Vought International prioritizes popularity over power. In a world without super-criminals, being a superhero doesn't require much strength.

"Don't you think the merchandise your company produces is just pollution in the eyes of environmentalists? Who would actually buy it?"

Ron raised an eyebrow, looking at her like she was an idiot.

Vought International's main business, aside from leasing heroes to cities for security, was selling superhero merchandise.

For a commercial company, isn't popularity meant to be monetized?

What use is popularity that can't be turned into profit?

"??"

Madelyn's expression twisted, as if she'd stumbled onto a blind spot, sinking into thought.

The Deep's merchandise had always sold well—was it because he was a member of the Seven, Vought's flagship team, or because environmentalists adored him?

Everything that happened today felt like a beautiful dream to Starlight.

From auditioning, to being selected, to attending the press conference for joining the Seven, and now being led by the Deep, one of her childhood idols, into the team's command center.

The massive doors slowly opened, revealing a solemn, majestic hall with pillars and a dome like a temple, one wall covered in screens displaying high-tech data.

Epic and futuristic in equal measure.

"Wow."

Stepping into the dream palace that welcomed her, eyes shining, Starlight couldn't help but gasp with excitement.

Walking in meant officially becoming a member of the Seven.

"Impressive, right?"

"Check this out—we've got two satellites in low Earth orbit. They can read a fleeing car's license plate from hundreds of miles up."

The Deep, acting as the seasoned veteran who'd just welcomed Starlight into the Seven, carried himself with mature confidence, like a team leader. Hands clasped behind his back, he gestured at the data on the screen beside him.

"No crime escapes those two eyes. They've always been our best tools for fighting crime."

"Oh, this place is really..."

Starlight was a bit nervous, carefully mentioning that back when she fought crime, she'd used a police scanner she bought online for a hundred bucks—a world apart from this.

"Yeah, you won't need that anymore."

The Deep shook his head with a light laugh.

"Oh, and the dining hall—you've got to see the kitchen they set up for us. They hired real chefs. Maybe I can recommend a few of my favorite dishes..."

"There—that seat is his, isn't it?"

Cutting herself off mid-sentence, Starlight got a little excited and pointed carefully.

Beneath the dome, an inverted V-shaped conference table spread out like a pair of angel wings, sharp and angular.

At the center of the V sat a single chair, with the others arranged on either side, as if everyone else were subordinates to whoever sat there.

"Uh... yeah."

"I bet your room was plastered with Homelander posters when you were a kid."

Who else could sit there but Homelander? A flicker of unease and fear crossed the Deep's face as he forced a smile.

"No, actually, Homelander feels like Jesus or something. He's too sacred—untouchable."

Reaching the end of the room, Starlight gazed at the night skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows, muttering to herself like a nervous freshman starting college.

"Actually, when I was little, I did have a poster of you in my room."