The warm breeze lifted the sheer curtains by the window and brushed gently against Ryan's skin.
The scent of mixed herbs made eight-year-old Ryan set down his toy without thinking and turn to look out the window.
On the peaceful, quiet neighborhood street, people went about their business.
A car slowly drove up, and a moment later, the front door opened.
Becca stepped inside. She had shed the strength she'd forced herself to show while out; hidden in her eyes was a trace of fatigue no one could see, along with a fear that reached deep into her soul.
Then, just before she entered the living room, all of it disappeared.
"Ryan, look what Mommy brought you."
"Whoa, it's Gentle Return of the Block City~~"
The child's eager, childish voice rang out, so sweet it made anyone who heard it feel their heart soften.
Becca hurried to the sofa and sat down. She gently drew her son into her arms, then kissed Ryan's forehead tenderly, her every movement filled with maternal affection.
"Don't rush. I'll put it on for you right now."
The television screen, which only received a specific signal frequency, lit up, and a brightly colored block cartoon with a childlike art style began to play.
All the little figures on screen were made of blocks. Red roofs and blue skies formed a simple scene, yet together they told a heartwarming, healing story that taught as it entertained.
"It's episode 132!"
Ryan exclaimed, then eagerly shared with his mother, "In the last episode, Walter helped Jerry the Fox find his friends."
"In this episode..."
Becca continued, "He'll still reach out to help without hesitation. He'll always treat others with kindness and never bully the weak. Even with great power, he'll use it wholeheartedly to protect the vulnerable around him."
As she spoke, Becca looked at her son again. "You should grow up to be a good person like Walter, all right?"
"Okay, Mommy!"
Ryan answered sincerely, from the bottom of his heart, even as he was absorbed in the cartoon.
Seeing how engrossed her son was, Becca stood up and ruffled his hair. "Mommy's going to make you lunch."
Ryan didn't answer.
His pupils shifted and contracted in a way no one could detect as he stared at the television.
Even the surveillance camera pointed right at him couldn't pick it up. It simply assumed he was watching with complete focus.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were the cartoon's cheerful music and Becca making lunch.
But if the surveillance staff could have passed through the camera and entered Ryan's mind, they would have been shocked to discover just how typical his thoughts were at that moment.
[Great job, Ryan!]
[Today's good-boy roleplay experience +1... Flawless. Experience points added to...]
...Steel Body level 2 — 172/10000
I'm eight already. Why hasn't Homelander shown up yet?
My mother, Becca, is wonderful in this life, but I need Homelander's resources. Only enough high-quality acting experience can enhance my superpowers!
My equipment slots are still empty, too. I'll have to explore outside to find equipment!
I was reincarnated into a superpowered world full of villains, so why is my cheat a Best Actor System?
This is ridiculous...
Ryan's eye twitched. He'd just realized that this episode was an absurd three and a half hours long. He'd been watching for ages, yet it had barely made it past the forty-minute mark.
What's wrong with this screenwriter? Is Vought International trying to raise a saint?
Are they afraid I'll become the next Homelander?
Homelander is so beloved, after all. He's brave and kind, sincere with others, and well-rounded in every way. He's the most responsible of all the superheroes in The Boys. So why does he attract so much criticism?
Ryan concluded once more, Because he's a genuine person who's above vulgar interests and never hides his flaws... Yes, that's it.
"Ryan, lunch is ready. You can watch more afterward."
"Okay, Mommy."
Ryan immediately hopped off the sofa and ran to the table without a hint of reluctance.
Just as the mother and son were about to enjoy their warm lunch, the view pulled back through the surveillance system covering the entire villa. It passed through the fake neighborhood set and reached a vast, brightly lit central monitoring room.
At the front of the enormous monitoring room, dozens of giant high-definition screens stood in neat rows, the most conspicuous feature of the entire space.
In front of the screens, where the footage played simultaneously, sat a recording team of twenty people. They documented Ryan's every move in the villa, frame by frame.
Behind the recording team were the psychological analysts and data observers, who analyzed their records.
The reports included not only physical and psychological findings, such as movement analysis, microexpression analysis, and psychological modeling, but also a wealth of carefully measured data on emotional parameters and fluctuations in consciousness.
In the end, all the reports would be compiled into one file and handed to the person in charge on-site.
"Maternal love, kindness, empathy, gentle perceptions..."
"Implantation progress: 100 percent."
"Subject Ryan's condition remains stable, as usual. Excellent work, everyone. Our personality and humanity-shaping plan is about to reach a successful milestone."
"Next, I want you to quickly screen candidates to replace the mother figure and draw up a plan for making contact—"
"What's that?!"
Suddenly, someone on the monitoring team in front of the screens cried out.
An uncontrollable commotion broke out.
It didn't stop until someone shouted, "Homelander!"
The room fell silent, as if someone had hit pause. Everyone stared blankly at the screen, not one person daring to make a sound.
They seemed afraid that even the slightest noise might be heard and draw Homelander's attention.
On the screen, outside the villa,
Homelander stood frozen in place.
The expression on his face had once again slipped out of his control. It was a complicated mix of delight and disbelief, along with a long-buried longing and the bittersweet feeling of seeing that wish finally come true.
He really had a son!
Never before had Homelander shed all his false pretenses as he did today, revealing the lonely heart beneath, yearning for warmth.
A hint of moisture shimmered in his eyes, barely noticeable.
Homelander couldn't help taking a step forward, but then stopped.
"Oh, and you, you poor thing."
He lifted the man he was holding by the collar. "Pathetic bastard. But since your wife gave me a son, I'll magnanimously forgive your offense."
Thud.
Homelander dropped Billy Butcher and left him there.
He was in better spirits than ever. At that moment, Homelander even felt that the child in the room was God's reward to him.
Who could have imagined that he, Homelander, would really have a son?
He stood silently outside the house, gazing in rapture at the child's innocent, adorable smile.
"He will. I'm his father, and he'll smile at me like that, too."
"Yes, he'll love and admire me, too."
"I'll give him the very best, everything good in the world. My son!"
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