New York, Brooklyn zone edge.
A room where even sunlight cannot penetrate Underground Apartment.
The whole room was in a mess, like a garbage dump that had just been looted.
Empty beer bottles, leftover fast food packaging boxes, and overflowing ashtrays were scattered all over the floor.
Billy Butcher sat slumped on a shabby sofa whose springs had completely collapsed, with a half-burned cigarette in his mouth.
[The Boys original character, Butcher.]
His stubble-covered face was full of vicissitudes of life and surliness, and his bloodshot eyes were staring at the TV set directly in front of him.
Although he is only twenty-three years old, he looks extremely mature.
On the TV, the ace host of Vought News Network was using a fanatical tone to play the scene that happened in Washington Square a few hours ago in a loop:
For the sake of two civilian hostages who were accidentally killed, Homelander mercilessly penetrated the chest of Second-Tier Superheroes with Heat Vision in public.
"He is the real the Chosen One!"
"The greatest, most just and most just hero in the world who puts people's lives first!"
"Homelander proved to us that Superheroes of Vought is by no means a privileged class above the law!"
In the news, one hundred thousand United States people cheered wildly in the square. They were so excited that they shed tears and loudly praised the god-like blond man at the camera.
"A bunch of brainwashed stupid pigs..."
Butcher let out a contemptuous sneer.
He blew out a thick smoke ring and put out the cigarette with his fingertips. "The whole America is fucking useless. It's all a bunch of blind idiots."
He grabbed the remote control at hand with disgust on his face and turned off the TV with a "pop" sound.
The room fell into darkness again.
Butcher turned his head and looked at the wall beside him.
It was a shocking "display wall".
The corner is filled with newspapers collected from major newsstands in the past few years, "The New York Times", "The Washington Post"... The front page headlines of each are all about Homelander's various heroic appearances in saving the world and fighting crime.
The mottled wall is densely covered with photos of Homelander.
Every blond face with a perfect fake smile, without exception, had a handful of rusty Military Dagger pierced between the eyebrows.
In the center of the pile of photos full of anger, there was an old, yellowed photo stuck unexpectedly.
There is no Superheroes in the photo, only a few young soldiers wearing British Special Air Service uniforms.
They put their arms around each other, holding beer glasses in their hands, and their faces were filled with the kind of wanton and fearless smiles that belong to soldiers.
Butcher's eyes fell on the old photo, and the surly look in his eyes instantly turned into invincible grief and utter hatred.
Only he knows what kind of heinous cold-blooded monster is hidden under the skin of Homelander, who is admired by thousands of people on TV and represents absolute justice and light.
six years ago.
At that time, Homelander was only a twelve-year-old boy, but Vought International had already packaged him into an invincible ace.
That day, this monster wearing a Stars and Stripes cloak came to British Isles like an arrogant evil god.
No one knew what he was here to do, but he just arrived in an incomparable way.
In order to safeguard sovereignty, the military urgently dispatched the SAS elite special forces team where Butcher belongs to negotiate. After all, no one can guarantee that the bomb will not explode suddenly.
Butcher I will never forget that day London The cold rain.
I will never forget that blond boy suspended in mid-air.
Facing the heavily armed special forces, the twelve-year-old boy ignored any warnings to negotiate.
There was no trace of human emotion in his eyes, only contempt like looking at the ants at his feet.
The sniper in the team, who was also Butcher's best comrade, sensed the fatal danger that could erupt at any time and decisively fired a warning shot in an attempt to force the opponent back.
However, that crisp gunshot became the signal for hell to open its doors.
There were no signs or any unnecessary actions.
Zhi--!
That dazzling crimson light was like a giant scythe swung by the god of death.
Just tenths of a second.
Butcher didn't even have time to open his mouth and issue tactical instructions. His brothers who had given their backs to each other in the hail of bullets and gone through life and death... were all gone.
There was no fierce firefight, just terrifying temperatures of several thousand degrees.
Those living lives were directly cut off and vaporized the moment the red light swept over them.
Broken limbs and broken arms were scattered on the ground along with burnt internal organs. The pungent smell of barbecue and ozone mixed together, becoming a nightmare that Butcher could never get rid of in his life.
"Hiss..."
Butcher took a long drag on the cigarette, trying to use the pungency of nicotine to suppress the trembling deep in his soul.
In that one-sided massacre, he was lucky enough to be blown away by the air wave generated by the explosion and saved his life.
But the aftermath of Heat Vision brushing the edge of the air still swept across his chest mercilessly.
Butcher slowly unbuttoned the dirty Hawaiian flower shirt.
In the center of his rough and strong chest, there was a large and terrifying dark red burn scar that looked like a twisted centipede.
The large area of proliferative tissue that had regrown after carbonization was like an ugly iron mark, carved firmly above his heart.
In the past six years, every time it is cloudy and rainy, every time it is quiet at night, this scar will feel a dull pain.
It was not only physical pain, but also the screams of his dead brothers in the fire.
"What are you pretending to be the Chosen One... you are a complete bastard."
Butcher rubbed the scar on his chest with his rough thumb, and pressed the cigarette butt that was about to burn his fingers to the mouth of the empty beer bottle next to him.
Every minute and every second for the past six years, he has been like a dormant mad dog in the dark, frantically collecting all the information about Vought International, Compound V, and Homelander.
The whole world is cheering for that false god, so it's up to him, a rotten person, to drag that condescending bastard off the altar and smash his head.
"Coming soon, guys..."
Butcher looked at the yellowed photo of his comrades on the wall, a murderous intent flashed in his eyes, "I swear, no matter what the cost, I will make that bastard Payback."
Buzz--buzz--
At this moment, a mobile phone with a cracked screen on the coffee table suddenly vibrated.
Butcher frowned, leaned out a little irritably, and grabbed the phone.
However, when his bloodshot eyes clearly saw the caller ID on the screen, all the anger seemed to have been drained out of him.
A name flashed on the screen: Becca.
The crazy murderous intent that was still lingering in his eyes a second ago faded away like a tide at this moment, turning into a touch of tenderness that even he himself was not aware of.
Butcher took a deep breath, cleared his throat that was a little hoarse from smoking, and then pressed the answer button.
"Hello, Becca."
His voice became softer unconsciously, for fear of scaring the person on the other end of the phone.
"Billy!"
A gentle and lively female voice came from the receiver.
There was some vague noise in the background, it seemed like someone was moving around and flipping through files. It was obvious that she was in a busy working environment.
"Are you free tonight? Let's meet."
Butcher raised the corners of his mouth. "Of course I'm free."
"Then see you at the same place."
Becca said with a smile in his voice, "Besides, I also prepared a surprise for you. I bought you a puppy."
Butcher was stunned for a moment. "Dog?"
"Yes."
Becca said softly, his tone softening,
"I am currently on the rise in my career at Vought. I work overtime every day. I am really busy. It is too boring for you to stay alone in the apartment. With it accompanying you for me, I can rest assured."
She paused and added half-jokingly:
"When one day I really succeed and become a senior executive of Vought, I will support you then, but for now, let this little guy accompany you. I hope you can be happy every day."