A Laughable Competition

"I heard that between ticket sales, sponsorships, and broadcast rights, Vought made nearly a hundred million dollars from this match."

Golden waves of hair draped over her shoulders, her battle dress a mix of gold and white, Starlight—beautiful as a goddess—waved to her adoring fans while smiling as she spoke to Ron beside her.

"Spending tens or hundreds of dollars just to watch a match that lasts less than two seconds."

Ron clasped his hands behind his back, gazing coldly at the spectators in the stands.

"I don't see the point. Some people probably haven't even sat down before the match is over."

"This century-defining match will decide whether A-Train stays or goes, and whether the lineup of The Seven changes."

Queen Maeve, sharp-featured and composed, maintained a polite, radiant smile for the fans as she chimed in to explain.

"A-Train got into The Seven because of his title as the fastest man in the world. If he loses that title, the company will kick him out immediately and bring in Shockwave, the new fastest man in the world."

The fastest person in the world draws massive popularity; second place can never command the same attention as first. Everyone in the stadium had come to witness this—to see if A-Train could hold onto his world number one.

Boom!

Suddenly, a blur streaked down from the horizon, landing almost instantaneously, cracking the ground beneath its feet. The figure straightened from a slight crouch in front of the four of them and waved to the crowd.

"Homelander! Homelander!"

The entire stadium erupted in cheers.

"The fastest man in the world?"

Homelander kept a sunny smile as he waved to the crowd, but his voice dripped with contempt. Mid-air, he had caught Maeve's words.

"When I was ten, I was already way faster than those two wastes of space down there."

He swept a glance like he was looking at insects at A-Train and Shockwave warming up on the massive track below, sneering.

Homelander's fastest was his flight speed, but his other speeds were no slouch either. A-Train had always feared Homelander because he knew that even his proudest speed meant nothing in front of him.

"These idiots paid money and traveled from all over, just to watch two kindergartners race."

Homelander kept smiling and waving at the frenzied spectators in the stands, mocking them without restraint. The audience, oblivious, kept shouting his name in excitement.

"..."

Queen Maeve and Starlight exchanged a glance, not daring to say anything. Maeve had long known Homelander's nature, and Starlight had already realized that Homelander was no different from the other so-called superheroes she'd met—nothing like the bright, virtuous image Vought promoted.

"The 'super-boy' craving attention and worship is sulking again, but he can't do a thing about it."

A smile tugged at Ron's lips. He knew Homelander was fuming over Vought's restraints. In his mind, he should be the fastest man in the world, and the fans of A-Train and Shockwave should all be his.

Homelander—the most powerful superhero on Earth. Anyone in the know understood this. Even as a teenager, his strength had surpassed nearly every other superhero. But Vought never promoted that angle; instead, they deliberately suppressed media from praising him that way.

"Vought is a commercial company. They don't put all their eggs in one basket, and they're preventing Homelander from using a massive fanbase to gain leverage over them."

Craving attention and adoration was Homelander's fatal weakness. In the current Vought company, Ron had more freedom than Homelander. Besides the fact that he had no interest in becoming Madelyn's "big obedient baby" to win her favor...

"More importantly, I haven't shown any exploitable weakness. Vought doesn't dare make a move."

Looking at the vast, wide track below, Ron smiled.

"A-Train, you're the best! No one can beat you!"

"Shockwave, win this! Become the new fastest man in the world with our hopes riding on you!"

Not long after appearing on the platform, Homelander and Queen Maeve headed down—there was an interview waiting for them, and the match was about to start. Down on the field, the two true protagonists of the world race, A-Train and Shockwave, entered, waved to the crowd, and after warming up, crouched into starting positions.

"Runners, on your marks!"

Bang!

The starting gun fired, its echo rolling through the stadium.

Whoosh—two figures, one blue and one orange, circled the track in an instant and reached the finish line. The gunshot still echoed in the empty stadium air, not yet faded, and the race was already decided. In the blink of an eye, both stood at the finish line; to the naked eye, it was impossible to tell who was faster.

The big screen lit up.

Everyone watched with bated breath.

With the thousand-times slow-motion replay, the winner was determined.

"Let's congratulate A-Train on winning this championship!"

The announcer shouted, the crowd cheered.

A-Train broke the speed of sound at over 370 meters per second, defending his title as the fastest man in the world.

"A-Train! A-Train!"

Shockwave lost, the match ended, and the stadium erupted in cheers, chanting A-Train's name.

"A ridiculous race."

In the outdoor booth, Homelander gave an interview, half-heartedly humoring the reporters while sneering as he used his X-ray vision to scan the two men who had just finished the race in the stadium.

In the audience's eyes, A-Train and Shockwave were as fast as a whirlwind, but to him, their speed didn't even match the trembling, shuffling steps of seventy- or eighty-year-olds in a nursing home.

"No, this race might actually have some meaning."

But the next second, Homelander seemed lost in thought, as if something had occurred to him, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"At least these two wastes gave me an idea."

For days, one question had been troubling him—how to confirm the limits of Ron's abilities.

Make a direct move against Ron?

If Ron's strength was really close to his, a fight would inevitably cause a bit of a stir. He didn't want to alert Vought, and even less did he want to cause any destruction or accidentally kill someone, losing a massive fanbase.

But if he didn't make a move, how could he know whether Ron was a 'weapon' Vought International had replicated to use against him?

Just now, though, he thought of a way—speed!

In terms of speed, he had never met an opponent. If Ron's speed was far inferior to his, then he wouldn't need to take Ron seriously.

"If he can't even keep up with my weakest point, it proves he's just another waste like everyone else."

The test was simple: use super speed to circle around Ron, do something to him, and see if he could react.

But right now, he was in the middle of an interview and couldn't leave easily. He sneered inwardly.

"Once the interview is over, I'll go see my new teammate and find out if he reacts to my moves like a laughably slow turtle."