He Also Joined The Seven?

Bang!

Translucent threw an angry punch. The moment his fist connected, his expression froze.

With skin far harder than it had any right to be and strength far beyond that of an ordinary person, he could bend even a steel plate with a punch. Yet when he struck the person before him in the head, he failed to move him in the slightest.

There was no muffled groan or collapse as he had imagined. The other man's head did not even tilt a fraction, making his fist seem utterly weak and powerless.

Ron casually glanced at the fist beside his temple, then looked away.

"That was weaker than a mosquito bite."

He swung a backhanded punch. There was no sign of his upper body twisting to put force behind it; it looked like nothing more than a casual strike.

Crack!

Yet it landed like a hammer blow. The crisp sound of breaking bone rang out, and Translucent's skin, harder than diamonds, proved as fragile as a thin pane of glass.

Translucent was released and dropped to his knees with a scream. Blood sprayed from between the hands covering his face. His nose had been smashed flat, nearly level with his face. Tears streamed uncontrollably from his eyes, leaving him in a pitiful state.

"My nose, my nose!..."

The entire bridge of his nose had been shattered. It would never recover unless he underwent reconstructive surgery.

"What are you afraid of? With your abilities, it doesn't make much difference whether you have a nose or not."

Looking down at Translucent kneeling before him, Ron smiled, turned, and walked away, leaving behind a single sentence.

"Now you know who I am. I hope there won't be a next time."

"You bastard, I'll get revenge on you.

"I'll find you and make you understand who I am!"

Translucent remained on his knees, watching Ron disappear around the end of the corridor. His entire body trembled with pain as he growled in rage and hatred.

He was a member of The Seven. His status within Vought International was anything but ordinary. He wasn't someone some nobody could bully.

Elsewhere, in the restroom.

"Who the hell do you think you are, bastard..."

Starlight leaned against the sink and began to cry. The eye makeup she had carefully applied for the press conference ran as tears washed it away.

She wanted to tell him that it had been her first time too, that she had never even dated before. But Ron had not listened to her explanation at all and had left impatiently.

The first time she had been intimate with a man, this was what she got in return.

"Wipe yourself clean. Don't let anyone see you looking so pathetic."

Maeve, dressed in a female combat suit and beautiful with a touch of heroic spirit, stepped out of one of the stalls. Casually wiping her hands, she handed Starlight two tissues.

"Men are like that. Once the impulse fades, they discard women like trash and avoid them like trouble."

Having heard everything, she felt nothing. If anything, she almost wanted to laugh—laugh at every woman who got hurt over men.

"When I was six, my father abandoned my mother and me to leave with that heavily made-up bitch. I understood that lesson early."

Maeve said mockingly, speaking of her childhood without the slightest concern.

Men could not be relied upon. Relations between the sexes were nothing more than the vile influence of hormones.

She turned to leave.

"Maeve, you're Queen Maeve. I'm your fan. When I was little, in my room..."

Wiping away her tears and steadying her emotions, Starlight's eyes were red as she tried to tell her how Queen Maeve had been her idol as a child, and how she had used her as inspiration whenever she fought crime after growing up.

But Maeve had spoken to her to mock her, not to comfort her.

"Stop. I don't want to hear any of that."

Facing one of her superhero fans, Maeve did not smile. Instead, she coldly interrupted her.

"I've heard those words so often they make me want to vomit.

"If you're still this naive, you won't last long in The Seven."

She knew Starlight was a newly recruited member. Otherwise, she would never have said things that could cause an enormous public uproar if they got out.

But she did not want anything to do with Starlight, because seeing her reminded Maeve of how foolish and ignorant she herself had once been.

"What do you mean?"

Maeve did not seem nearly as warm as she was portrayed on television. The forced smile on Starlight's face froze.

"Naive little girl."

Without explaining, the beautiful woman in armor shook her head with a cold laugh and turned away.

"Found him. He appeared in my office and asked to join The Seven..."

On one of the upper floors of Vought Tower, Vice President Madelyn nervously delivered her report to the man behind the desk.

"Mr. Edgar, I'm worried Ron is another Homelander!"

"There's no need to worry."

President Edgar, an elderly Black man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, sat in his executive chair. Calm and unruffled, he twirled a pen as he studied the information on the iPad in his hand.

It showed that, at the place where Becca and her son had been imprisoned, the squad tasked with posing as neighbors and keeping watch nearby had discovered that the anesthetic spray and several other items in the emergency supply warehouse were missing. Judging by the traces, they had been taken two or three years ago.

Two or three years ago, that child had only been a few years old, though he was not much older even now.

Had he discovered the truth about his surroundings early on and planned his escape?

Then, after awakening his abilities, had he seen a safer option, endured it and given up escaping, then patiently waited another two or three years?

"He's different from Homelander. He's smarter, calmer, and more rational than Homelander."

Facing Madelyn's anxiety, he smiled faintly. It was as though nothing could alarm him, and he spoke with meaningful undertones.

"And sometimes, two lions are easier to handle than one."

"This is a good thing."

The calculating Edgar gave his assessment, set down the iPad, and murmured.

"I just don't know why he wants to join The Seven."

Did he crave the fame and adoration he had lacked since childhood? Did he want to escape his cage and indulge himself? Did he want to prove his strength? Or did he want revenge against an unworthy father?

Several suspicions flashed through his mind in an instant. Calmly, he instructed Madelyn, then turned his executive chair to look out the window.

"Whatever else he asks for, satisfy him as long as it doesn't compromise the company's fundamental interests. I want to see what he wants."

Only by knowing what a person wanted most and what they least wanted to lose could one control them. Edgar, who had used this principle to control the vast commercial empire of Vought and keep its many superheroes obedient, understood it deeply.

"Yes, Mr. Edgar."

The next day.

That morning, Starlight called her mother. She had originally imagined happily sharing everything with her—her new experiences and the excitement of working alongside her idols.

Instead, she could only force a smile.

Deep's behavior and Maeve's indifference made The Seven, this superhero team, seem somewhat wrong.

Perhaps her mother was too tired and excited to notice the dejection in her voice.

Click. Once again standing before The Seven's conference room, Starlight watched the doors open.

Starlight took a deep breath and walked into the bright, spacious hall.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"I prepared a welcome speech, but Starlight, you're already a little late for your first meeting."

Standing behind the chair at the center of the V-shaped arrangement, a blond man wearing a stars-and-stripes suit slowly turned around. He carried himself like a leader, his smile as brilliant as sunshine.

"Sorry, Captain."

"Please sit. Just call me Homelander. I don't like being called Captain. Everyone sitting here is equal—we're one family."

Homelander smiled with his hands behind his back, his words warm and welcoming.

As Starlight nervously approached the seat at the very end, she suddenly saw a familiar figure. Her expression turned to shock.

"He really managed to join The Seven too?"