Homelander's Fatal Weakness

"I know, but... God, my boyfriend has the power of a nuclear bomb."

But unlike Ron, who remained calm, Starlight was thrilled. She set down her coffee cup, hooked her arms around his neck, and settled into his lap, gazing excitedly at his handsome profile.

Strength meant excellence, and who wouldn't love someone excellent? Especially women—they needed strong men to give them a sense of security.

"Ever since Soldier Boy died and Homelander burst onto the scene, no hero's abilities have come close to his. But you did it."

"My boyfriend is one of the two most powerful superheroes in the world."

"You're making it so I can't eat."

Ignoring Starlight's praise, Ron chuckled.

"Ron, after breakfast, how about we hang out a bit before heading to the company?"

"What for?"

He asked, puzzled.

"After you finish breakfast, don't you want a little dessert?"

A blush crept across Starlight's face as she leaned in and whispered softly, her breath tickling his ear.

"Damn it, damn it!"

In his room, Homelander stood with his hands behind his back, staring out at the city, his expression dark as water. Though rage boiled inside him to the extreme, he didn't vent by smashing things—that would only make him seem weaker and more powerless. Besides, there wasn't much that could withstand his outburst.

"Vought, I can't believe you actually replicated another me."

He struggled to suppress his fury, gritting his teeth with a savage look.

By common logic, if someone created a beast, they'd have to have a way to control it. That Edgar on the eighty-second floor—even when Homelander deliberately put on a cold, angry front, facing the rage of Earth's most powerful superhuman, he never once showed panic or a racing heartbeat.

Vought must have some countermeasure against him!

He'd suspected whether Vought could use Compound V to clone or replicate another him.

"But that old man once said I was his greatest success, an irreplicable miracle!"

Homelander had always believed he was unique, that Vought's countermeasures were just some shady, limited tricks that couldn't see the light of day.

But that last shred of hope was shattered by that kid named Ron. When he attacked with all his might and couldn't even scratch Ron, his years of pride crumbled.

"Sir, sir."

The door was knocked twice quickly and then opened, and Ashley burst in excitedly, holding a laptop.

"Ashley—have you forgotten how to wait after knocking?"

Homelander, in a fit of rage and on the edge of losing control, turned back with a sinister tone, barely restraining the urge to use his laser vision.

"Sorry, sir, but you have to see this. Your popularity has skyrocketed. Everyone's talking about you."

Ashley was a bit scared, but she knew what Homelander cared about most, so she mustered her courage and stepped forward.

"Popularity skyrocketed?"

Sure enough, at the mention of popularity, Homelander's anger vanished. He snatched the laptop and stared at it, stunned and bewildered.

His popularity had exploded?

In just one day, he'd gained nearly ten million followers, and it was still climbing fast—every refresh showed a new number, thrilling and exhilarating. But why?

Deep down, whether man or woman, everyone respects and admires the strong. It's written in their genes from the ancient, barbaric era. No matter how powerful Homelander's theoretical stats were, he'd always acted just like any other superhero—fighting petty thieves and robbers. What difference did it make?

Plus, the persona Vought had crafted for him was too boring.

Like Jesus Christ himself—aloof and untouchable—but he wasn't a god. Only old fogeys would like that.

But now it was different. He'd shown true godlike strength, shaking the world. Looking back at his "sunny, humble, crime-fighting" image, it suddenly felt different.

With power above all others, yet a golden spirit—humble, kind, protecting the weak.

The public, ignorant of his true nature and fooled by the facade, had many worshipping and adoring him.

Knock knock!

The door was knocked again, and Madelyn stood outside with Maeve.

"Madelyn, are you here to tell me about my follower increase too? I already know."

Closing the laptop, Homelander beamed with a hint of pride. At this moment, there was no trace of the dark rage from moments ago.

Thinking about how many people were discussing him, watching him every moment, he even forgot that he wasn't the only one.

"Congratulations, Homelander."

Madelyn offered a brief congratulations, then her expression shifted from excitement to seriousness.

"But there's another matter I need to discuss."

In the corridor, she led Homelander and Maeve toward the Seven's war room at a brisk pace.

As they walked, she quickly laid out the situation.

"Exclusive intel from the North American Aerospace Defense Command.

Seven minutes ago, Transoceanic Flight 37, en route from Paris to Chicago, was hijacked midair. There are over two hundred hostages on board—men, women, children."

"You should know, the company has been pushing to enter the Department of Defense, integrating our Vought superheroes as part of the national defense system.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

If Vought could get into the DoD, the profits would be endless, not to mention Vought International's status would instantly transform—a qualitative leap.

She could already see Vought entering the DoD, and herself, as vice president, riding that wave of rising prestige and wealth. Her tone brimmed with delight and excitement.

"If we can react faster than the government, resolve this, and save those two hundred-plus passengers, it could very well become the catalyst to push the bill through and get a foothold in the DoD!"

"Very well?"

Homelander, in a good mood, sneered inwardly.

He didn't like uncertain outcomes.

Compared to rescuing these people, he had a better idea brewing.

"For instance, the 'Son' who could have saved everyone's lives, devastated because he got the news too late to intervene, resulting in the deaths of over two hundred passengers.

The government's obstruction and suspicion, dragging their feet on the bill, leading to this tragedy!"

"The public, seething with outrage, protests against the government and demands the 'Son' be placed in the DoD!"

But he couldn't do it openly.

Homelander glanced at Maeve beside him. He knew her personality all too well.

This woman—the one he'd truly liked and come within a step of possessing—he hadn't given up on yet.

"Madelyn, you seem pleased?"

In Madelyn's office, Ron asked from the sofa.

"I'm waiting for news. News that could bring Vought hundreds of billions of dollars in profit every year."

From behind her desk, Madelyn chuckled lightly.

"Oh?"

His expression shifted slightly, as if recalling something.

"Is it happening now?"

Ron's gaze turned deep.

Recently, Vought had been pushing to pass a bill to enter the DoD.

The so-called news likely referred to Homelander and Maeve successfully rescuing that hijacked passenger plane from terrorists ahead of schedule, using it as leverage to intervene in defense matters.

But Homelander hadn't followed her orders. He'd done it his own way, with his signature style.

"This incident is Homelander's fatal weakness—enough to corner him completely."

"Even if someone else held this leverage, they wouldn't dare push too hard, afraid of driving him to destroy the world. But I don't have that worry."

He smiled lightly.