Living Together?

Vogelbaum's tone was firm.

Edgar narrowed his eyes slightly and gave Vogelbaum a surprised look, clearly not expecting him to sound so confident.

"You're really calling a three-year-old child a means of control?"

"That's precisely where Lin Mo's value lies," Vogelbaum replied.

Frank opened the report.

"The problem is that he himself may not be entirely obedient at present."

"He interprets orders selectively. He once told Joanna that she didn't need to listen to everyone."

"He also told her that she could ask why when given an order."

Edgar looked at Vogelbaum.

"Did you teach him that?"

"No."

"Then he came up with it himself."

Vogelbaum didn't deny it.

"Lin Mo's cognitive abilities have always exceeded those of children his age, but he has yet to show any clear anti-company tendencies. He cooperates with examinations and fulfills most of our requests."

"He simply tends to interpret things in his own way."

But Edgar cut straight to the heart of the matter. "A tool of control that reserves the right to interpret orders isn't truly a tool of control."

Vogelbaum smiled, then continued:

"Don't forget who provides all of this. He depends on everything Vought gives him."

"Food, shelter, education, and opportunities to meet HL-01. Without us, Lin Mo was just an abandoned baby. He would have frozen to death somewhere long ago."

"As long as the company raises him, someone of his intelligence will never turn against it."

Those words silenced the conference room again. Even Edgar offered no rebuttal.

Yes, Vogelbaum was right. Everything else aside, who had given Lin Mo the tremendous power to become a superhuman? Who had raised him? Even if Lin Mo learned Vought's true motives in the future, he presumably wouldn't turn against it. After all, it was where he would have spent his entire childhood.

That was why, no matter what Homelander did in the original story, he had never considered destroying Vought.

By raising them from childhood, Vought put itself in an unbeatable position from the start.

That was also why Edgar had always been so confident in the plan to raise Homelander and rarely came to check on Joanna. People were full of contradictions. Reason told you something was wrong, but emotion held you back.

As if sensing what Edgar was thinking, Vogelbaum pressed his advantage.

"Their relationship isn't complicated. They depend on each other. Even if Joanna loses control, Lin Mo can stop her."

"That dependence can be guided. It can also be exploited."

After hearing him out, Edgar fell silent for a moment, then rose again and walked to the front of the conference room.

"I've decided to expand the shared-living experiment."

Everyone in the conference room immediately looked up.

One researcher asked, "You mean having them live together?"

"We won't put them in the same living quarters right away."

Edgar explained.

"First, extend their contact time. From forty minutes to two hours, for example."

"Add shared meals, lessons, and free time."

"Then gradually reduce their time together again. By then, Joanna should have developed her values, and there'll be no need to waste time on anything else."

Vogelbaum nodded slightly.

"That was our plan for the next phase as well."

Edgar looked at him.

"The less a person has, the more likely they are to lose control completely when they lose the one thing they possess."

"The company needs to control her, but also cultivate her need for public approval. Lin Mo can help guide that."

No one raised any further objections. Ultimately, they were only employees doing their jobs. How could they stand against the people holding the purse strings?

After the meeting, the new experimental plan was quickly distributed.

Meanwhile, Lin Mo knew nothing of what had happened in the conference room. His daily routine remained unchanged.

Every day, he basked in the sun, listened to the tutors Vought hired boast and bluster, and looked after Joanna. Life was fairly comfortable.

Still, when their next meeting came, he noticed that the Game Room's layout had changed again.

He was already used to that, but he still had to ask: what were those two beds doing there?

When he went inside that day, he and Joanna stared at each other. The once-open space had been divided into separate areas.

Two small beds stood on one side, while bookshelves, a dining table, and storage cabinets had been added on the other.

A colorful clock hung on the wall, and there were even two sets of utensils on the table.

When Joanna entered the room, she too stopped in the doorway and looked around for a long time.

She first made sure Lin Mo was still there, then examined the new furniture.

"What are we playing today?"

She asked curiously.

"I don't know either."

Lin Mo walked over to the table. Two lunches had already been served on the plates. Since they were there, he might as well eat first.

In the past, before letting him see Joanna, Vought would tell him what to do—teach her something, explain some principle to her, that sort of thing. Today, however, was a little unusual.

The researchers had let him in without saying a word, and hadn't told him when to leave.

Could Vought be planning to have us live in the same space now?

Since when was Vought this humane?

Looks like they want to observe how we get along.

Looking at the two beds in the corner, Lin Mo quickly guessed the company's intentions.

Vought probably believed that gradually increasing their time together would turn him into a reliable tool for controlling Joanna.

He sat down at the dining table and opened the milk in front of him.

Joanna dragged her chair over beside him. Even though there was a seat across the table, she still didn't want to be too far away.

"How long are we staying today?"

It seemed to be something she had to ask every time they met.

Lin Mo glanced up at the clock and answered uncertainly.

"Probably longer than before."

Joanna's eyes brightened a little.

"A long time?"

"We'll probably get to finish lunch together." Lin Mo took a sip of milk. So fresh and delicious. No wonder Homelander loves milk. Must be a habit picked up in childhood.

"And then?"

"Maybe we can read."

"And then?"

Lin Mo looked toward the two little beds that had yet to be used.

"I don't know beyond that."

Joanna lowered her head and began carefully arranging her spoon. Then she noticed Lin Mo drinking his milk. Her eyes lit up, and she opened the carton in front of her as well.

After taking a small sip, Joanna visibly froze. She seemed to have drunk something like this before. It tasted wonderful.

Joanna poked out her tongue slightly to lick the milk from the corner of her mouth, then nudged her carton toward Lin Mo.

"You can have it."

But Lin Mo noticed the obvious reluctance on her face, and the way her throat moved as she swallowed.

Lin Mo withdrew his gaze and looked at the milk she had pushed toward him. He raised his head, shook it at Joanna, and slid both her carton and his own, from which he had taken just one sip, back toward her.

"You drink it. I don't like this." Lin Mo looked at Joanna fondly. Who would dare compete with the milk-loving Homelander for her milk? Well, he had managed it—and Joanna had offered it to him herself.