Vought's PR Machine Was About to Kick Into Gear

His teammates had long since grown sick of his brutality and control. With Vought's tacit approval and arrangements, they joined forces to attack Soldier Boy.

Afterward, the company secretly handed the supe who had once embodied American heroism over to the Soviets for research.

Given his strength, he would not actually die. Instead, he would be imprisoned and experimented on in the Soviet Union.

Ultimately, he would be treated as a dangerous asset that could not be disposed of through normal means, sealed away for years in a freezing facility.

Naturally, Vought would never admit the truth. They could not tell the public that their number one hero had been abandoned by both his company and his teammates.

Nor could they let anyone know that the man portrayed as nearly omnipotent in movies, news reports, and military propaganda had ended up in a Soviet laboratory.

That would destroy the heroic myth Vought had spent decades building, and prompt the government to ask just what kind of secret dealings the company had been involved in.

Soldier Boy was an outdated superhero. In Vought's eyes, he had to die. Then their carefully packaged Homelander would make his debut as the new leader of the Super Seven.

Vought International would also enter its golden age.

After learning the reason behind recent events, Lin Mo slowly walked past the door that had not been fully closed.

Only after rounding the corner did he hear the security door close behind him, its heavy metal cutting off the rest of the conversation.

But he had already heard the most important part. The rest did not matter.

Now, his biggest uncertainty had been resolved.

Despite the appearance of a female Homelander, the timeline had kept moving.

Even his own arrival had not knocked every major event in the original world off course.

At least Soldier Boy had still been betrayed in Nicaragua in 1984, Vought had still chosen to cover up the truth, and the Homelander Project was still being advanced in secret.

That meant the future he knew could still serve as a reference.

Of course, there was no guarantee that everything would follow its original course. His existence had already changed Joanna's childhood.

But as long as those key figures, corporate interests, and historical turning points remained, the future had not become a completely unreadable fog.

That put Lin Mo somewhat at ease, though along with that relief came a sense of amusement.

What am I doing? Worrying that the future might slip out of my control?

He was a Kryptonian. Once he had soaked up enough sunlight, he would be utterly invincible in this world. There was no kryptonite here, which meant he had no weakness.

His own overwhelming strength was what would guarantee his safety. Besides, worrying about danger when things were going well was not his style.

Once he had worked through all of that, Lin Mo broke into a genuine smile.

He was not yet powerful enough to foresee the future, so knowing where it was headed was certainly a good thing.

That night, the Research Center did not turn off the lights in its common areas at the usual time. People kept passing outside the door.

Cart wheels rumbled softly across the floor. Some carts carried sealed file boxes, while others were piled with dismantled terminals and tapes.

Lin Mo happened to be beside the laboratory, leafing through some unidentified experiment notes. That was one good thing about the researchers: they did not restrict his freedom much here. As for the Soldier Boy incident, Vought had never connected Lin Mo to him at all.

Perhaps, in their eyes, Lin Mo had no idea what had happened.

Just then, several archivists brought a large quantity of paper documents into the laboratory's special incineration chamber. It seemed to be the same chamber used to test Homelander in the original story.

Lin Mo quietly watched the researchers finish their cleanup. Firelight flickered behind the translucent protective door as page after page of reports, photographs, and operation records turned to black ash in the intense heat.

Erasing every piece of evidence was undoubtedly impossible for Vought. The company would always retain a truthful account accessible only to its highest-ranking executives.

What they destroyed were the versions ordinary employees might encounter. What they erased were the clues that would allow multiple departments to piece together the truth.

In fact, these ordinary researchers did not know what had really happened to Soldier Boy either. They thought he truly was dead, and that Vought was merely rushing to destroy some data from research on him. Most Vought employees would likewise know only that Soldier Boy had taken part in a secret operation.

The operation had failed, and he had died. The details were classified at the highest level.

As for why the members of Payback had been questioned separately after returning, or why the company had suddenly sealed off files on its military partnerships, those would all become questions no one was allowed to ask.

"Hey, Lin Mo. Time to go back and get some sleep."

A gentle voice came from behind him. A moment later, Lin Mo felt a pair of hands lift him up. He looked up into a delicate, pretty face.

It was Barbara. She had located Lin Mo in the surveillance room and come to take him to bed.

Interestingly enough, Barbara had always treated him quite well. That was how Lin Mo felt, at least, but who knew what Vought was thinking?

Lin Mo could not be bothered to struggle in her arms and simply let her carry him away. He was used to it by now. This body was actually only four years old, after all. Of course he was still a child.

After returning to his little room, he could only obediently stay in bed as Barbara instructed.

He had not returned to the Game Room he shared with Joanna. Vought generally did not let the two of them stay together while resting.

He gazed at the surveillance device on the ceiling, quietly sorting through what he remembered.

To Vought, Soldier Boy's disappearance meant more than the loss of a hero. It meant an era was coming to an end. The company needed a new public face, a new symbol of America.

A new flagship product that could replace Soldier Boy. And among Vought's secret projects, there was already a candidate almost tailor-made for the role.

Homelander.

Or rather, the young Homelander, still managed by the company under a project number.

With Soldier Boy leaving the historical stage, the Homelander Project would inevitably become even more important. Vought Corporation would certainly pour more resources into it and accelerate both training and image-building.

They would also become more desperate to study how to control a supe who might surpass Soldier Boy. Both he and Joanna would be affected as well.

At that thought, Lin Mo closed his eyes.

With Vought's old flagship brought down, the company would need to prove more than ever that the next generation of heroes could be controlled. They needed success stories, experimental data that could convince the Board of Directors and the Military.

Joanna was being placed in the position best suited to producing those results.

The next day, shortly before dinner, the Research Center's PA system suddenly came to life.

This time, the announcement was repeated three times.

"Attention, all personnel."

"At the request of corporate headquarters, all personnel not assigned to emergency duties must watch the special Soldier Boy press conference tomorrow at nine a.m."

"Department heads are responsible for confirming attendance. All nonessential experiments will be suspended during the press conference."

"Repeat: tomorrow at nine a.m., all personnel must watch the special Soldier Boy press conference."

After the announcement ended, the corridor briefly fell silent.

A few seconds later, hurried footsteps sounded again in the distance, along with murmured conversations.

Sitting in his room, Lin Mo paused slightly and looked toward the speaker on the wall.

A special press conference. Looks like Vought's PR machine is about to kick into gear.