Let Me Give You a Full Body Checkup

After Angelina's scolding, Dodger couldn't stay any longer and fled the Seven Tower like a man escaping.

Now.

In the livestream, bullet comments flew by one after another.

'I knew he was slandering Homelander, this scumbag, I'm unfollowing!'

'This is too much, I thought he had real evidence, turns out it's all guesswork.'

'Trash, just chasing clout, what's the difference between him and those media reporters? Unfollow!'

Watching the barrage of abusive messages on his phone screen, watching his follower count plummet in a cliff-like drop.

Dodger Wesson's heart bled.

"This isn't how it should be."

"The doctor told me clearly, Angelina was severely injured."

"Since when could Homelander heal serious injuries!"

"He made me a clown, he made me look like a fool in front of a million people, he ruined my career!"

At that thought, Dodger whipped his head back toward the Seven Tower and made an obscene gesture.

*

*

*

In a townhouse in some neighborhood.

A man was looking at his phone.

"Darling, what are you looking at?"

A reasonably attractive woman handed him a cup of coffee.

The man took the coffee, set down his phone, and said, "This idiot pissed off Homelander."

The woman glanced at the phone screen, which showed a man just walking out of the Seven Tower.

"Who is he?"

"A third-rate journalist who tried to get famous by smearing Homelander, and failed."

The man pulled the woman close, grinning. "Darling, if I ripped this fool's head off and gave it to Homelander, do you think he'd let me join The Seven?"

The woman cupped his face and said, "He'd have to. Then our Mr. Blue Hawk would be a member of The Seven."

*

*

*

In an old apartment, Liquid Man, wearing a long trench coat, watched his tablet.

On the screen, Angelina—pale-faced but overall not looking like someone injured—righteously tore into the stream's host.

"Impossible."

Then his phone rang.

Liquid Man glanced at it. It was his employer, O'Connor.

He thought for a moment, answered, but also turned on the recording function.

At that moment, his employer O'Connor's voice came through the phone.

"Tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Are you messing with me?!"

"Why is that woman still alive?!"

Liquid Man was about to explain, but O'Connor didn't give him the chance.

"You've already taken my money. You'd better make sure Angelina—my dear little niece—is lying in a cold coffin!"

Then the call ended.

Liquid Man was silent for a moment, then opened the recording and listened to what O'Connor had just said all over again.

*

*

*

Seven Tower, 88th floor.

In the CEO's office, Edgar exited the livestream and turned off his phone.

He closed his eyes, smiled, and said to the empty office, "How do you think Homelander healed a severely injured girl?"

"Damaged organs, severe internal bleeding—closing a wound isn't enough to save someone like that."

The office was silent. No one answered.

Edgar opened his eyes, looked around, then said, "I know you're here, Invisible Man."

"Homelander sent you to keep an eye on me, didn't he?"

"He's changed a lot. Do you know why?"

The office still had no reply.

Edgar let out a chuckle. "Looks like The Deep's death scared the piss out of you."

"Fine. Keep your silence."

"I only have one request."

"When I go to the bathroom, don't stare at me. Thanks."

With that, Edgar lowered his head and went back to work.

Just then, a potted plant behind the Vought CEO—no wind in the room—had one of its leaves twitch on its own.

In Maeve's room at Seven Tower, Azu stood by the window, hands on his hips, gazing into the distance.

"Don't you have your own room to go to?"

Maeve had already shed her battle armor, dressed lightly, her long legs exposed as she lay back on a lounge chair.

Azu turned, walked over to Maeve with a smile, and without hesitation reached out to gently cup her cheek.

"As a teammate, I feel it's my duty to check in on you."

Maeve glanced at the hand on her face but didn't push it away. She just said, "Well, you've checked in now."

"As you can see, I'm fine. I've recovered."

Azu's hand moved downward. "Hard to say. I think a full-body examination is in order."

Maeve let out a soft laugh. "Just an examination?"

Azu extended a finger, lightly lifting the edge of her collar, and smiled back. "What else?"

Just then, Azu's phone rang.

Maeve subtly pressed a hand to her chest. "I appreciate the thought, but I think you've got other things to deal with now."

Azu smiled, said nothing, and left the room.

Hearing the door click shut, Maeve let out a small sigh. She stared at the ceiling and murmured to herself.

"What's up with that guy?"

"He seems like a different person."

"And he wants to overhaul The Seven."

"Still, if it means no more ads, movies, or reality shows, that wouldn't be so bad."

Before long, Sunday arrived.

That afternoon, Azu was in the Training Room. He shut down all the surveillance, then sparred with Angelina.

"Come at me."

Azu smiled and beckoned her over.

Angelina let out a shout and moved fast—her explosive burst was immense. Anyone but Azu would've only seen a blur.

A vicious knee strike slammed into Azu's abdomen, but it didn't knock him down like Angelina had expected.

She circled him, throwing punches and kicks—each one lethal to an ordinary person—but against Azu, it was like scratching an itch.

Azu stood still, even taking the time to open his Status Bar and glance at the 'Steel Body' Talent.

After Angelina had been at it for a while, that Talent begrudgingly gained 1 point of proficiency.

"Looks like daily training barely increases proficiency. I need real combat for any decent gains."

Just as Azu was thinking this, Angelina leaped up, straddled his shoulders, clamped her thighs around his head, and twisted her waist to throw him.

But Azu didn't budge.

He then reached up, grabbed Angelina's hand, and laughed. "Seems I'm not the best sparring partner for you. Let's call it here and switch to another kind of exercise."

Angelina's face flushed slightly.

During the exercise, Azu said, "That guy who tried to kill you the other day—Annika from the Criminal Analysis Department gave me some useful intel. I think it was a Sup called 'Liquid Man.'"

"He's on our Blacklist. A professional killer."

"Now that he knows you're alive, he'll make a move. I need your cooperation so your revenge story can play out."

Angelina's voice trembled. "Everything... as my master commands."