Power On! And the Hundred-Year-Old Tender Milk... Battle!

At 10:30 AM, the lively and grand opening ceremony had concluded all its proceedings.

Inside the studio, all unauthorized personnel had been cleared from the set town. The lighting, camera, and continuity crews were all in position, and the entire production team stood at the ready, waiting for the first scene to begin.

In the center of the vast set, everyone's gaze silently converged on a small figure.

This was a solo scene; Ryan needed to embody a snippet of a small-town boy's carefree life to create a sharp contrast with the sudden, drastic changes his life would face in the story.

"Scene one, take one..."

"Action!"

As the command to start rang out, the characters, houses, and streetscape suddenly came to life within the lens.

Director Adam sat behind the monitor, his full attention locked onto the little boy in the frame, observing his every move.

It's so good, this feeling!

The eight-year-old boy tilted his fair little face upward, the warm light hitting the top of his soft hair, gilding it with a faint golden edge.

His eyes were clear and bright, sparkling as if filled with the early summer sun—clean, pure, and without a trace of gloom.

He looked left and right, then suddenly revealed an expression of surprise as if he had discovered something.

He began to trot forward with light, pattering steps, but after only two strides, he suddenly softened his pace, even rising onto his tiptoes.

The camera zoomed in, switching to a position in front of Ryan.

At this moment, a small orange cat, quietly curled up on the stone steps and lazily licking its paw, entered the frame.

Immediately after, the boy's cautious back came into view again.

The on-site audio captured a soft, thin, childish voice: "Are you sunbathing here all by yourself, too?"

The orange cat flicked its tail and glanced at him.

"Don't you have any friends to play with? I have some free time, I can keep you company."

The boy spoke in a whisper, tentatively reaching out a hand to stroke the cute little cat.

Suddenly, an unexpected turn occurred.

The once-docile orange cat on the steps was startled; it lashed out, fiercely scratching the arm the boy had extended.

"Cut!"

This sudden development made Director Adam anxious and desperate to call a halt.

But at that moment, Ryan in the frame did not stop his performance, and his subsequent actions immediately stifled the "cut" command Adam was about to shout.

Ryan pulled his scratched arm back to look at it; there were no scratches or blood on his skin, as perfect as if the cat had never touched him.

He glanced at the fleeing cat, and while turning to hide his arm, he simply sat down on the steps.

A breeze swept through the set street, fluttering the hem of his loose clothes.

He looked up at the studio ceiling, as if seeing blue skies and white clouds.

His eyes curved into crescents, revealing only a hint of secret joy, with no sign of a bad temper after being attacked by a stray cat.

He said softly, "Run along now, go live your life freely, and make sure you don't get caught by the bad guys."

"Cut!"

Adam jumped to his feet and quickly walked onto the set, praising him repeatedly: "Oh my god, that was amazing, Ryan! This performance far exceeded my imagination!"

"You really are a genius child!"

"That damn cat scratched you off-script, and I was about to call cut, but I never expected you to handle it like that, you..."

Adam's flattery was about to continue, but Ryan already smiled at him: "Mr. Director, I'm a little tired. I'd like to go take a break."

"Uh? Of course, go get some rest, Ryan."

Ryan nodded and headed straight for the resting area.

Ashley greeted him with a face full of joy, followed by the assistant she had been bringing along for the past two weeks.

In the nearby resting area, Maeve, whom he had specifically found an excuse to keep there, merely glanced at him before lifting the silver flask in her hand to her lips.

However, why hadn't it started yet?

A brief moment of doubt crossed Ryan's mind as he walked back.

He had long since noticed the wrongness, the awkwardness, and the oddities in Azu's mood over the last two weeks.

Using the spiritual good-and-evil superpower of Raven, he had successfully identified the super-powered individual hiding in the shadows—the very person currently following behind Ashley.

She was Stan Edgar's person!

It wasn't that Ryan looked down on Stormfront, but someone capable of sending an agent with the guts to secretly manipulate Homelander's emotions certainly couldn't be her.

She didn't have that kind of power, you know?

Besides, she was also quite stupid!

Ryan cast a strange glance at Stormfront, who had found an excuse to stay behind.

His analysis grew more certain in his mind; Stormfront must be... no, rather, Stan Edgar must have had a change of heart midway, and he was no longer playing along with Stormfront.

Why say that?

Because after he realized that Azu's emotions were off, his first reaction had been to resolve it immediately.

He had thought that Stan Edgar and Stormfront were trying to sever Homelander's love for his son, thereby preventing him from continuing to exert influence over Homelander.

But he was wrong.

Through Raven's ability, he saw that the goodwill Azu held for him—or one could say, the love for his son—had grown increasingly intense within a mere two weeks.

That green light, so bright it made one's heart race, was almost enough to blind Raven's eyes.

Fine, things had reached this point, and Ryan felt more and more sure of himself.

For some unknown reason, Stan Edgar had changed his tune halfway through. The personnel he dispatched were simultaneously creating some kind of opportunity for Stormfront while deepening Azu's love for him.

Moreover, that old fox Stan hadn't even shown up to the scene today, so he would let that slide for now.

So, it all came back to the final question: why hadn't it started yet?

I am waiting for an opportunity to land a fatal blow on you.

Stormfront, you centenarian granny, what are you waiting for! Waiting for your ovulation period?

All these thoughts were completed in just a few steps, and no sooner had he finished thinking them than Ryan watched as...

"Thump..."

Ashley's assistant suddenly collapsed to the ground while walking.

"Ahhh... it hurts!! So painful!!!"

The female assistant fell to the floor, and thick, yellow blisters erupted one after another on the skin exposed outside her clothes in the blink of an eye.

She rolled around in agony, crying out in pain.

Ashley dodged the moment the incident occurred; her movements were even faster than Maeve, who rushed over, or Stormfront, who tossed aside her livestreaming phone and rushed over with a look of concern on her face.

While dodging, Ashley shouted loudly, "It has nothing to do with me, she's the one with the problem~"

"Stop shouting, give me the phone!"

"What?"

Ashley asked back, bewildered.

Ryan didn't waste words and went straight for it.

He snatched his phone right out of Ashley's hand, then immediately found a text message he had pre-edited and saved.

Send.

Recipient: Raven.

And when he looked up after finishing all this, Maeve and Stormfront were arriving at his side from different distances at almost the same time.

"No!! My love, you, what happened to you?"