Chapter 46

"Ashley, I want to hold a press conference. Set it up for me."

Azu stood up, smiling. "Also, have the Costume Team come up. I have time now."

"And plenty of it."

Ashley looked baffled. "Homelander, I don't think now's the time for a press conference. The Legal Team—"

"Do as I say, dear." Azu's smile was radiant, but his eyes held no warmth at all.

After Ashley left, the Costume Team arrived.

They introduced themselves, and the Squad Leader cleared his throat. "Honored Homelander, we've designed several battle-suit concepts. We hope you'll like them."

Azu nodded. "Show me."

The Squad Leader gestured.

On the command hall's screen appeared a suit with a silver-white main color, feather patterns, and a golden cape.

"First concept: Guardian Angel."

"White represents purity, a symbol of peace."

Before the Squad Leader could finish, Azu waved a hand. "Next."

The Squad Leader looked awkward—this suit was his own design.

He'd put it first to win Azu's favor, but got rejected before he could even finish explaining.

He sat down and looked at a female designer.

She stood, tapped her tablet, and displayed an image on the screen.

This suit was largely the same as what Azu currently wore.

Blue as the main tone, but it boldly discarded other colors, keeping only red as decoration.

On the chest was an abstract pattern that looked somewhat like the letter 'P.'

The arms featured red flame designs, with parts of the flames extending into three-dimensional, sharp blade shapes.

"This is?" Azu showed interest.

"Flame Guardian."

The female designer explained, "The flames symbolize your passion, power, justice, and sense of mission."

"The flame concept extends along the arms, using hardened material and blade-like shapes to showcase your sharpness, while implying your uncompromising stance against evil."

"The chest pattern is an abstraction of the letter 'P,' also the first letter of the word 'Protect.'"

"That concludes my design concept, sir."

Azu gave a slight nod. "Not bad. Next."

Then a white male designer stood up.

He presented a black suit, boldly decorated with gold lines.

Those gold lines were like lightning, full of power, and cleverly emphasized the wearer's athletic physique.

Azu looked at the designer.

The designer spoke with barely contained excitement. "Honored Homelander, allow me to introduce—"

"Night Lightning!"

"I believe you are the most piercing, brightest lightning bolt in this chaotic, evil, sin-ridden world!"

"This world is pitch black, and you are the beam that cuts through the chaos, illuminating everything!"

"You are the lightning of the night, the ultimate salvation!"

Azu crossed his arms over his chest, expressionless. "Go on."

The Costume Team then showed several more suits, including one green one that made Azu's face turn green.

Finally.

Azu said, "I like both Flame Guardian and Night Lightning."

"Have them made."

"But for Flame Guardian, change the letter on the chest."

The suit designer immediately asked, "Homelander, how would you like it changed?"

"Not 'P.' Make it 'K'!" Azu smiled. "The 'K' in Kiing!"

Two hours later.

Azu arrived outside the press conference venue. He was about to enter when he suddenly stopped, then smiled faintly.

Just then, someone behind him said, "Wait a moment, Homelander."

Azu turned and saw Vought's Black President, Edgar.

Scanning the area, he also spotted The Invisible Man.

Edgar said with a grave expression, "Can I have a word with you?"

Azu glanced at the nearby clock. "You've got three minutes."

Edgar looked into the venue. "What are you planning to announce?"

Azu shot back, "Do I need to report to you?"

Edgar gave a bitter smile. "You don't need to report to me, but I can offer some advice."

"Maybe you don't realize it, but right now, you—and our Vought—are at the eye of a public storm."

"One wrong move, and we'll be blown sky-high, maybe even into outer space."

Azu spread his hands. "Then I'll definitely fly back."

Edgar wiped his face and said, "Let me be blunt, Homelander. I want you to cancel this press conference."

"Doing nothing right now is the better move."

"Otherwise, no matter what we do or say,"

"it'll become a handle for our enemies. They'll use everything to attack us."

Azu clapped the CEO on the shoulder. "And I'll crush every enemy."

"Relax, friend."

"Leave it all to me."

"Maybe you can head up to the 88th floor, grab a coffee—have Angelina brew you one. She's good at that."

He patted him twice more, then walked into the venue.

Edgar said nothing, didn't even try to stop him. He just watched for a moment, then turned and left.

Stepping into the venue, Azu was met with a blaze of flashing lights.

He strode calmly to the podium, flashing a perfect smile, and under the barrage of cameras, took his place.

Azu raised both hands in a pressing-down gesture, and the flashes stopped.

He picked up the microphone, tested it, then said, "I bet you folks are about to run your legs off."

"Because what I'm about to say will give you three full days of news material."

Laughter rippled through the venue.

Then a reporter asked, "Homelander, what do you want to tell us? What do you want to tell the world?"

Azu looked around, then said, "Is this live right now?"

"Yes, Homelander, we're broadcasting live."

Azu nodded, faced the camera, and smiled. "You've all seen this morning's news by now."

"It seems our country's Security Bureau is very worried that me and my team might cause unnecessary damage to New York's city buildings."

"I understand their concerns, and to accommodate them, I'm announcing here and now."

"For the time being, The Seven are suspending all activities."

"That's right."

"From this very second."

"The Seven will carry out no rescues, no operations."

"If you run into trouble, folks, please go ask the police for help."

"That's all I have to say."

He winked at the camera, smiled, and left the venue.

Outside the venue.

Ashley stood frozen, as if hit by a petrification spell.

After a moment, she yanked at her hair in frustration. "I knew it."

"I knew him calling a press conference on his own couldn't mean anything good!"

"What is he doing?"

"Throwing a childish tantrum?"

"Or declaring war on the Security Bureau?"

Just then, Ashley's phone rang, but she had no mood to answer.

The flood of reporters' questions forced her to steel herself and head back into the venue.