A few days later.
New York, Red Hook District
Container yard.
A figure galloped over quickly.
"Shet!"
A-Train stood in front of a pile of discarded tires, looked down at the mud under his feet, and then looked up at the rusty iron containers piled three stories high around him.
"Where the hell is this place."
He tapped the intercom on his ear.
"Are you sure this is here?"
"You call this a Butcher gang hideout? This is a fucking place where homeless people shit."
The staff's voice came over the intercom.
"Intelligence indicates they have been operating in this area for the past three days."
"A-Train, you just need to confirm the target, Homelander will handle it."
"I confirm, I confirm, I'm already fucking confirming, there isn't even a streetlight in this shitty place..."
Something fell from the sky.
It hit the cement floor three meters away next to him, creating a spider web of cracks, and the gravel shattered A-Train's trouser leg.
Homelander stood up, his cloak shook, and his face stretched longer than the cloak.
"So."
He patted the dust on his shoulder and sounded as if he was owed eight million.
"I have to do things like clean up the trash."
"Edgar said it would be more efficient to send you."
"Edgar said, Edgar said, Edgar can speak better than me now, right?"
Homelander twitched the corner of his mouth and smiled very fakely.
"I used to be the number one in Vought. What about now?"
"Shit!"
"Being chased around by a green lizard, today I was asked to kill a few terrorists, tomorrow I was asked to go to Texas to scare farmers, and the day after tomorrow I was asked to wipe the butt of His Majesty Xiao Long."
"Keep your voice down." A-Train lowered his voice and glanced at the intercom, "This thing is on, Edgar can hear you."
Homelander stared at the walkie-talkie for two seconds.
He grabbed it and crushed it into pieces.
The plastic case and circuit board fell from his fingers, and he spread his hands without a smile.
"It's broken."
A-Train took half a step back.
"Brother, you..."
"What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm not fucking happy."
Homelander turned around, his eyes began to light up, the red light of heat vision shined through his pupils, and he scanned the surrounding containers.
"Kill the Butcher gang and the traitor Starlight today."
"Come one by one, kill Butcher first, then Hughie, then the France guy, the black man, the Japanese girl, Starlight... Come one by one, I asked them to kneel and line up."
A-Train The corners of his mouth twitched.
"Starlight was also a teammate before."
"Teammate?" Homelander turned to look at him.
"She blasted me in the face and then ran away with a bunch of bastards. This is called a teammate? This is called a traitor."
"Okay, okay, you have the final say."
Homelander continued to scan, his heat vision swept across the container walls and iron doors, and suddenly stopped.
"Behind."
He tilted his head and pursed his lips toward the depths of the container yard.
"Behind three containers. There is a heat source. Five people."
"It should be those Bichi!"
A-Train clenched his fists and began to take small steps Warm-Up under his feet.
"Shall I go?"
"Go ahead. Knock them away and I'll take care of them. Don't kill Butcher, I'll crush his head with my own hands."
"Okay."
A-Train lowered his body, rubbed the soles of his shoes twice on the concrete floor, and tensed his muscles in preparation for ejection.
Then a voice came from behind them.
"Oi."
Both men turned around at the same time.
"You two Bichi, are you looking for us?"
A man stepped out of the shadows between the containers.
Leather jacket.
That body, that walking posture, that undersampled child with his head tilted slightly, Butcher.
Wearing a mask on the face.
The single horn rises from the middle of the forehead, the lines of the mask extend down the cheeks, and there is a pair of shining eyes behind the two eye holes.
Homelander stared at him for two seconds and sneered.
Although he was wearing a mask, Homelander knew it was him just by looking at his appearance.
"Butcher?"
He took a step forward, his fists clenched.
"You wear a stupid mask and think I can't recognize you?"
"Have you lost your mind?"
Butcher stood still, without moving, with his hands hanging by his side.
Several people came out one after another from behind, all wearing masks, standing at the edge of the shadow of the container.
It's none other than Hughie.
Homelander glanced at them, laughed even harder, and waved his hands.
"Wow wow wow~"
"What a family photo."
"You're even in uniform? What are you doing, terrorist cosplay?"
He turned back and glanced at A-Train.
"Did you see that these Nezumis got themselves uniforms? Think they can fight superhumans just by wearing a mask?"
"Are these idiots like you, who drank too much Compound V?"
A-Train didn't answer the call. He stared at Butcher for a while, feeling that something was not right.
Butcher stands too firmly.
I used to deal with Butcher. This person always had a suppressed irritability in his stance, as if he was about to rush over and kick someone at any time.
Now he stood there, motionless, with a quiet sense of oppression exuding all over his body.
"Hey bro"
A-Train leaned into Homelander's ear and whispered, "That mask of theirs... doesn't look right."
"There's something wrong, street vendor."
Homelander took a step forward and raised his hand to point at Butcher's nose.
"Listen, Butcher."
"I'll give you three seconds to take off that idiot mask, kneel down, and then I can think about giving you a happy death."
Butcher didn't move.
"Three."
"Two."
Homelander stopped for half a beat, and the fake smile on his face broke.
"One..."
"A-Train."
Homelander tilted his head and winked.
"Hit him. Don't kill him, just maim him. I want to live."
A-Train took a deep breath, the engine behind him exploded from the back with a buzzing sound, and a black and red shadow disappeared instantly.
"Boom!"
Crash sound.
But.
What flew out was not Butcher, but A-Train.
It flipped three times in the air, smashed the iron doors of three containers, and finally rolled into the fourth one, causing a human-shaped pit to be dented in the iron.
A-Train was lying in the broken iron sheet, the armor on his chest was shattered, blood was pouring from the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were as wide as a cow's.
"Holy shit!"
"Wha... what... fuck..."
Butcher stood on the same spot without even moving his feet.
He tilted his head, and the voice behind the mask was different from before.
"Cunt!"
"Is this the fucking end?"
He looked down at his hand, clenched it twice, and cracked his knuckles.
"Compound V's test product, that's it?"
A-Train crawled out of the container, holding his hands on the ground. At least three of his ribs were broken. Every breath he took felt like a knife in his lungs.
"Homelander... There's something wrong with this idiot..."
Homelander The expression on his face changed.
He glanced at A-Train, then at Butcher's hand, and his pupils shrank.
"What did you do?"
Butcher tilted his head, and the horn on the mask faced Homelander.
"I didn't do anything."
"Fuck you, there's no way A-Train didn't hit you and you didn't do anything. Fuck you..."
"What's the rush?"
Butcher took a step forward. The leather boots stepped on the cement floor, and the soles of the shoes knocked softly.
"I'm wearing a mask, that's all."
"What mask can stop A-Train?"
"You want to know?"
Butcher has taken another step.
Homelander subconsciously took half a step back, and then he retreated when he realized it, and his face suddenly turned red.
"Don't be so fucking shameless, Butcher."
"I just didn't react for a moment. Can you stop A-Train? Can you stop me?"
The heat vision came on, and two red lights passed by, hitting Butcher right in the chest.
Butcher was hit by a red light on his chest while standing, and a hole was burned in his leather jacket, but Butcher was fine.
At the same time, it is healing quickly.
Homelander was stunned for a moment.
What? You fucking drank..."
"Finished?"
Butcher patted the burnt black area on his chest.
"Homelander."
"Did you not eat today?"
Homelander's face twisted.
Butcher smiled.
It's that kind of evil smile that comes out from behind the mask, muffled and proud.
"But then again..."
He cracked his neck and there was a click.
"The guy named Butcher is gone."
He pointed forward, pointing at Homelander's face.
"The person standing in front of you now is one of the nine Shadowkhan Generals..."
"Minta."
Homelander stared at the mask.
"Nine big what?"
"Shadowkhan Generals."
A-Train got up from behind and leaned against the container, his chest rising and falling.
"Homelander... let's go. There's something wrong with this idiot. There's really something wrong."
"Shut up."
Homelander stared at Butcher, the red light in his eyes getting brighter and brighter.
"I don't care if you're Butcher or some shit Minta, you're just a masked terrorist. You were then and you still are."
"You're dead today."