The bodyguards maintained order, and the reporters obediently cooperated, so the press conference soon proceeded as scheduled.
The fat man replaced the original spokesperson—the middle-aged female manager—and took charge of the event. The Clone Supermen stood in a row behind him, each with his arms folded across his chest, their biceps seeming ready to burst through their suit jackets.
He first reminisced about Vought International's long history, then reiterated that Superheroes were an important force for maintaining social stability. He also emphasized that the company remained true to its original mission of serving the public, rambling on and on about all sorts of things.
Only afterward did he bring up Lamplighter's retirement today.
The two charred corpses were still lying on the carpet, untouched, faint wisps of blue smoke rising from them.
But the reporters had already lost interest in them. Even if they took more photos, Vought International would not allow them to be published. They were just ordinary corpses now, completely worthless and not even worth a glance.
The fat man directly took the prepared statement handed over by his secretary and began reading it. It was merely a formality, recounting Lamplighter's good deeds—such as how many fans he had on various websites, how many movies he had made, and how much money he had earned for the company.
It was utterly unremarkable. This was a public relations statement, after all. What else were they expecting to hear?
In the end, he casually stated that Lamplighter had officially retired from Vought International. There was nothing more to it.
As for the charred corpse nearby? They did not know him. Vought International had no such person. Their Superhero Lamplighter had retired and left, perfectly fine when he departed. The hundreds of people present could all testify to that.
As