"Good thing the Director of S.W.O.R.D. showed up in time. Otherwise, even more people would have died."
A well-informed reporter said, "Come to think of it, the Director of S.W.O.R.D. really is busy. He'd only just saved the president, and then he had to rush to India to save people. Luckily, he has incredible powers. Even a plane couldn't have gotten him there in time."
"Exactly. He's a busy man. Our world is truly lucky to have the Director of S.W.O.R.D."
Everyone nodded, while Homelander's expression darkened. You bastards, is it really appropriate to praise the Director of S.W.O.R.D. right in front of me?
Of course it was. One reporter even asked, "Homelander, what do you think about this?"
Homelander forced out a painfully strained smile. "I don't know the details, but if things really happened the way you described, then we certainly owe the Director of S.W.O.R.D. our deepest thanks."
Homelander nearly ground his teeth to pieces as he said "thanks." The reporters all nodded. They really did owe the Director of S.W.O.R.D. their deepest thanks. He had saved the world several times without asking for anything in return.
I really want to kill these people.
Homelander stared at the reporters, gritting his teeth. If those cameras weren't here, I'd make sure you all died in an instant.
Just then, Madelyn's voice came through his earpiece. "Homelander, hurry to India and see if you can catch whoever was behind this. A lot of people died this time. It's guaranteed to be a huge story."
Riding someone else's publicity again?
Homelander sighed, feeling he had fallen low. He spent all day chasing other people's publicity. Wasn't that something only washed-up celebrities did? He was Homelander—a top star.
Despite his reluctance, Homelander slowly rose into the sky and flew toward India.