John, You'll Regret This!

"Heh—"

The resentment in Homelander's heart hadn't faded in the slightest. He gave a soft snort, then said coldly, "Ashley doesn't matter, whether or not you agree to rescind the order."

"I will never let Ryan set foot in the lab!"

"Oh, John. You've touched me."

Edgar looked at Homelander and shook his head with a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You're learning how to be a father."

Clap! Clap!

Edgar clapped twice. "But, John, you never had a father. You never experienced a father's love. We both know that."

"So! What! Of! It!"

Homelander had been struck right in his most vulnerable spot. He gritted his teeth with fury, wishing he could kill Edgar on the spot with his Heat Vision.

Just as he had Madelyn.

But... he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

Stan Edgar, you old queer who's been the same for decades.

"See? Deep down, you know that best, John."

Edgar was completely immune to Homelander's glare. He wasn't afraid in the slightest. "Besides, you got one thing wrong. I'm not sending Ryan to the lab."

"He isn't the next Homelander. He won't follow the same path as you."

Homelander narrowed his eyes, waiting for him to continue.

Edgar spoke without the slightest attempt to hide the truth. "From the very beginning, we designed Ryan to be your opposite."

"You're violent, obsessive, empty. You're always ruled by your emotions and desires. You've never understood restraint, patience, or discretion—or people."

"Ryan inherited your bloodline and has your powers, but he won't reproduce your madness."

"He's levelheaded and obedient. He knows how to love, and he understands the rules. He's your cure—and your replacement."

The words went on for a long time, and Homelander listened for just as long.

Long enough for Homelander to lose himself in them.

Those cold, cruel words, peeling open his Steel Body, were like countless sharp needles, stabbing again and again into his heart, already rotted beyond repair.

Then all that remained was a hollow bewilderment.

So the love he longed for existed only to replace him.

The calm look in Edgar's eyes changed. It was the first time it had shifted since Homelander stormed in.

He looked at him with an indescribable expression—something like sympathy, something like amusement—and called to him softly. "John..."

Homelander looked up.

His gaze met Edgar's eyes, filled with emotions he couldn't understand.

"John... All right, Homelander. I know you love Ryan, and I like the boy too. But deep down, he's still different from you."

"Believe me. If you insist on being with him, he'll break your heart."

As soon as Edgar finished speaking, Homelander's expression changed.

He even... couldn't help bursting out laughing.

"Pfft!"

"Ha ha ha... ha... Break my heart?"

"Stan—Stan—Stan Edgar!"

Homelander said his name three times in a row. "You've never cared about me! Not once!"

"But now..."

Homelander's voice took on a strange tone too. "Now you're worried about me, just because I refused to let you dump Ryan in a lab to test his powers?"

"All that bullshit you just spouted was really just an attempt to drive a wedge between us as father and son."

Edgar's expression tightened, then returned to calm.

He replied coolly, "You'll regret this, John."

"I won't. I'm Homelander. Oh, right. Do you know why I saw through you, Stan?"

"Does that matter?"

Homelander stood up and looked down at him. "Because my son did something no one has ever done for me."

"He'll never break my heart! And you..."

Homelander gave him a contemptuous look. He couldn't even be bothered to finish what he was saying. He turned and left.

Edgar's expression remained calm. Only after Homelander had turned and disappeared from the room did he lower his head and let a silent smile cross his face.

Had those words really meant nothing?

We'll see, John.

"Bang—"

Barely a moment later, while the smile in Edgar's eyes hadn't yet faded, someone else barged into his office without permission.

How lively.

"Edgar!! Your move was too—"

"Ms. Vought!"

Edgar called out Stormfront's name sharply.

It was both a reminder and an interruption, cutting off what she had been about to say.

"I don't recall asking you to come here."

Stormfront looked furious. "Come on, Edgar. Drop that stuffy, upper-crust act. I still remember when you were young, you and Soldier Boy used to—"

"Clara Vought!"

"Phew..."

Stormfront stopped her sarcasm and sat in the chair Homelander had just vacated. "Relax. Homelander's flown off."

"Otherwise, would I have barged in here without a care in the world to discuss a scheme against his son?"

Edgar nodded in understanding.

Homelander had never been patient. But... what had he flown off to do?

"Stan Edgar!"

After being interrupted, Edgar didn't bother looking into it any further. At worst, he'd have to clean up after Homelander again. No big deal.

Then, before Stormfront could question him again, he spoke first. "Ms. Vought, yesterday's talk show really was unexpected. But after all these years, how have you still not learned one thing? Patience. Have a little patience."

"Heh."

Stormfront scoffed, her tone firm. "I've always believed in striking fast."

Edgar sighed softly. "You saw it yourself. Homelander just left my office. We discussed Ryan."

"So?"

"So we'll soon know the full extent of Ryan's powers. After that, I'll find a way to transfer him out of Vought headquarters and arrange for him to star in a movie?"

"Ha ha, looks like you've already planned everything out."

"That's how I've always done things."

Stormfront picked up right away. "So we're just going to sit around and wait?"

Edgar slowly stood up. "Come with me. I'll take you to meet a few people."

He glanced at her again and added, "One of them is someone you'll need to clean up after. Remember what they look like."

Homelander pushed his flight speed to the limit.

In the blink of an eye, he reached the place where his nightmare had begun.

A secret base Vought had hidden in a small town—a highly classified facility devoted to embryo experiments and the creation of perfect superhumans... a prison of pain.

He hovered in midair. His Super Vision pierced through layers of soil and bedrock, reaching deep into the laboratory.

"Marty!"

The lab's assistant director, a man who had brought him the utmost humiliation. The nickname "Whale Shooter" had haunted him throughout his adolescence.

"Frank!"

A senior researcher at the lab, a man without an ounce of compassion who took pleasure in tormenting him. Homelander remembered him all too well.

"I still remember how you celebrated after making that shot into the wastebasket!"

Homelander's low murmur was swallowed by the howling wind.

But even the bitter wind high above couldn't blow away the past branded deep in his soul—or Stan Edgar's vicious words.

They still gnawed at his heart like blades, like venomous snakes.

"No! No!"

"I can't believe him. Ryan would never do that. He loves me so much."

But the more he told himself that, the more his inexplicable fury surged, though he couldn't tell where it had come from. It was as if it would burn him through, inside and out, until nothing remained.

"You're dead!"

He could only direct that fury down below.

Homelander moved, about to descend, then suddenly stopped. "How can I go without a gift? Right, I should bring them something... a celebration cake."