A-Class Psyker

So what if he didn't understand?

Given how things stood, even though Butcher had a thousand curses ready to spit, he could only swallow them all for now.

"I—I understand. I really do." He forced an ugly smile, swallowing his anger as he put on a brave face. "I've given you the stuff. According to our agreement, you should tell me where Rebecca is now, right?"

"According to our agreement, you were to trade Compound V for your wife's whereabouts."

Alvin crooked a finger, and the remaining vials flew toward him. As Butcher watched with hopeful eyes, Alvin deliberately sighed. "But I'm sure you understand what 'but' means, don't you?"

"You tricked me? You bastard! You promised!"

The moment he heard "but," Butcher's heart sank. He roared like a raging bull, going wild with fury.

"No, no. I think you may have misunderstood, Mr. Butcher."

Alvin shook his head and said calmly, "I just wanted to tell you that these vials are temporary Compound V. At best, they're 'inferior goods' and don't meet the terms of our deal."

"Temporary Compound V? What does that mean?" Butcher, who had been seething, suddenly calmed down.

"It means these vials of Compound V can give you superpowers, but only for twenty-four hours." Alvin sighed, feigning regret. "So I can't tell you your wife's exact location. But, as compensation, I can give you a clue."

Butcher had calmed down. He knew Alvin was doing this on purpose, but the man had him over a barrel, and there was nothing he could do. He could only swallow his anger. "Fine. A clue is a clue!"

"Vought International. Dr. Vogelbaum."

Alvin turned and slowly walked out of the factory. His voice echoed through the building. "Once you find real Compound V, you can come trade with me again."

Only after Alvin had completely disappeared did the chill inside the factory finally begin to lift.

Now able to move again, Butcher's temples throbbed, veins bulging. His bloodshot eyes glared in the direction Alvin had gone. "Next time, I swear I'll make you—"

Alvin used the few dollars he had left to check into a cheap hotel.

The upside was that it was close to Vought, with a direct view of the area around Vought International. The downside was that the place was filthy.

Still, in the eyes of an Underhive scavenger, it was downright luxurious.

"Would you call this a case of being so upset you can't even cry?"

Alvin rubbed his throbbing temples, struggling to keep that power from spilling out. "I never thought my superpower would turn out to be psychic abilities!"

Whether it was the temperature plunging inside the factory, the frost coating the ground and equipment, or the ghostly blue flames and lightning that appeared when he used his power—

There was no doubt about it. They all pointed to the most terrifying power in the Warhammer Universe: psychic energy!

Psykers were either the one sincere blessing granted by the Chaos-ridden Warp, or humanity's deepest curse!

Whenever a Psyker fought, their soul's reflection in the Warp became like a blazing fire!

To the Daemons lurking in the Warp, Psykers were like bright beacons, drawing endless Daemons eager to devour their soul reflections!

And most Psykers' status and living conditions could be summed up in one sentence: they were worse off than Underhive scavengers!

In the Warhammer World, under the harsh rule of the Imperium of Man, unregistered Psykers were an extreme danger. They could attract the attention of Warp Evil Gods at any moment and become walking human bombs.

What's more, the Imperium of Man constantly sent vast fleets of Black Ships to patrol the various worlds, capturing, hunting down, or taking in Psykers!

They were either sent to the Throne World of Terra, where they were burned as fuel for the Astronomican, or imprisoned until they died.

Alvin didn't want to be dragged to the Throne Room and burned like firewood to fuel the Astronomican. Even less did he want to run into some fanatical Inquisitor and be chopped into mincemeat.

That left him with only one option.

Learn to control his psychic powers as quickly as possible and hide his identity as a Psyker!

"According to the Imperium of Man's twenty-four-grade classification system, I should be an A-class Psyker." Alvin breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly feeling rather lucky.

It wasn't that he didn't want to become stronger. It was that any higher psychic grade, like Zeta-class or Epsilon-class, would bring strict control by the Imperium the moment it was discovered.

And the more powerful a Psyker was, the greater and hotter their soul's reflection in the Warp became, making it easier to attract the attention of the Chaos Gods!

So, in a sense, Alvin was relieved that he was still at a relatively safe level.

At least the Chaos Gods, the Imperial Inquisition, and the Star Whisperer Court wouldn't take an interest in him.

"Next up: Vought Company."

Alvin gazed at the enchanting night view outside the window, then glanced down at his watch. "Mm, it's time."

He knew Vought Company would never risk letting Homelander meet a mysterious man who knew about his past, so he needed to add fuel to the fire.

He opened Twitter on his phone. Sure enough, a video had quickly shot to the top of the trending page.

The video was simple. In the guise of "Jigsaw," he mentioned Compound V and part of Homelander's background, then issued an ultimatum to Vought Company: if Homelander didn't come rescue The Invisible Man within twenty-four hours, he would reveal everything else!

Vought acted quickly and deleted the video, but Alvin had saved multiple copies and set them to post at scheduled times from different IP addresses.

Vought International wouldn't be able to sit still for long. After all, Homelander's identity and Compound V were their most closely guarded secrets!

Alvin sent a few brief replies to Starlight, then lay down to rest.

At Vought Company, just a block away, plenty of people were clearly going to have trouble sleeping tonight.

The sudden uproar on Twitter sent the company's stock price plunging, wiping billions of dollars off its value out of nowhere. Vice President Madelyn was nearly beside herself with rage.

"Find him! I don't care what it takes—find that bastard!" The woman, who usually hid behind an image of polished competence, had gone completely berserk. She screamed hysterically, "I don't care how you do it! Find that bastard right now! Do you hear me?!"

Ashley silently endured the vice president's fury, water splashed across her face as she trembled. "Yes. We'll find him as soon as we can."

Just then, Homelander walked in and gave Ashley a cold look. "You. Get out."

Ashley glanced at Madelyn in fear. The latter folded her arms and waved her away as if she were driving off bad luck. "Hurry up and get lost! I don't want to see your stupid face!"

At the order, Ashley hurried out with her head bowed, as if she'd just been rescued.

Once the door had closed, Homelander finally looked at Madelyn. A hint of infatuation showed in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. In a low voice, he said, "I should be the one to handle this. No one's more suited to it than me!"

"No. No, no, no. You absolutely cannot go!"

Madelyn shook her head firmly and pointed at Homelander, raising her voice. "Do you understand? We'll handle this. You stay here and don't go anywhere!"

"Who could be more suited than me?"

Homelander was furious. His face twisted into a savage mask, stripped of any trace of a hero, as he shouted, "You know perfectly well, Madelyn. That guy knows about my past. If I don't go, everyone who's a fan of mine across America will find out what I used to be like!"

Just now, after that video on Twitter had gone viral, Homelander's approval rating had dropped by ten percent!

That was what truly terrified him. If the public found out he'd been controlled since childhood and had lived in such an environment, his approval rating would be finished!

"Listen. You are not going. That's an order from the company!"

Madelyn couldn't explain that the company was afraid Homelander might lose control, so she did her best to soften her tone. Just like before, she opened her arms. "Come on, John. Come into my arms."

Homelander's throat felt dry and itchy. He swallowed and walked over, step by step.

Then Madelyn gently drew Homelander into her arms, as if he were a newborn baby, and lifted his outer shirt.

Homelander greedily suckled at her breasts, looking content and at ease.

"That's good. Just like that, John."

Madelyn closed her eyes and gently stroked Homelander in her arms.

What she failed to notice was his twisted expression, or the defiance and anger flashing in his eyes.