"I thought you were here to catch up with me."
Frenchie drank the last sip of lemonade in the glass and placed the glass on the wooden table.
He stretched, stood up, patted his trouser legs, and issued an expulsion order to Neuman:
"Since everyone has different opinions, please go back. I plan to take the children for a walk next week at Japan. I have to get their passports in advance."
Frenchie waved his hand, turned around and prepared to go downstairs.
"Alas."
A long sigh from Neuman came from behind.
"Since it doesn't make sense, we can only use some extraordinary means."
Frenchie's intuition, which he had been working in gangs for many years, suddenly exploded at this moment.
He turned around suddenly, and his right hand reached for the holster on his lower back like a reflex.
But he was still a step slow.
Neuman Standing on the spot, the originally black and white eyes suddenly faded, and the rich white shadow instantly covered the entire pupil.
Frenchie's action of drawing the gun was stuck in mid-air.
He felt that the blood in his body was completely out of control at this moment.
The blood that was originally flowing smoothly seemed to be roasted on a fire, boiling and flowing backwards in an instant.
His heart seemed to be tightly grasped by an invisible hand, and the severe pain prevented him from even screaming.
Pistol fell to the cement floor with a clang.
Frenchie's legs went weak, his eyes went dark, he fell heavily on the rooftop and lost consciousness.
Neuman The grayish white under his eyes gradually dissipated.
She took a deep breath and turned to look at Mesmer standing aside.
"It's your turn. Keep your hands and feet clean and don't destroy his brain."
Mesmer wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, walked quickly to the unconscious Frenchie and squatted down.
He grabbed Frenchie's wrist and then closed his eyes.
Marge, who was standing in the corner, watched all this. She naively thought that Mesmer was just reading the memory.
At this time, Mesmer is carefully traveling through the memory maze of Frenchie.
Following Neuman's instructions, he cut up all the positive scenes in Frenchie's memory about Vought International and Homelander cleaning up gangsters, bit by bit like scissors.
Not only that, he followed the memory line and completely erased the memory of Frenchie's painful detoxification and rebirth under the sun.
A few minutes later, Mesmer panted and let go of his hand, then collapsed on the ground.
"Done."
Mesmer wiped the sweat from his face, "He only has hatred for Vought in his mind now, and..."
Neuman nodded with satisfaction and took out a small transparent sealed bag from the pocket of his windbreaker, which contained some white powder.
She threw the bag at the side of Frenchie's face.
Frenchie on the ground let out a painful groan, twitched his fingers slightly, and slowly opened his eyes.
The eyes that were clear and bright just now were now covered with bloodshot eyes, and they were distracted and anxious.
The first thing he saw was the small transparent bag dropped next to the tip of his nose.
Without any hesitation.
Frenchie It's like a man who has been thirsty for three days in the desert sees water and rushes to grab the bag.
He bit the seal skillfully, poured some powder into his mouth with trembling fingers, and took a deep breath.
Just a few seconds.
Frenchie's originally rosy face turned pale, but the expression on his face revealed a kind of morbid excitement.
The sun-soaked repairman is gone, replaced by a madman who was burdened by debt and controlled by drugs many years ago.
He had no idea that his memories of several years had been forcibly taken away.
"Frenchie."
Neuman smiled and extended his hand to Frenchie, "I formally invite you once again to join us to overthrow Vought and make those arrogant bastards pay the price."
Frenchie got up from the ground, rubbing his nose nervously and letting out a hoarse laugh.
"Overthrow Vought? OK!"
He patted his shriveled chest hard, "As long as I can make those Vought sons of bitches die, I'm bound to do it! We can't let them do evil anymore!"
Marge stood aside and opened his mouth slightly.
She looked at Frenchie, who had turned into an addict again, with complicated eyes, and then looked at Neuman and Mesmer, who were full of pride.
Marge felt an uncontrollable chill in his heart.
She finally understood what Mesmer had just done.
Not only did they control Frenchie's body, they also murdered his soul, which he had finally recovered.
Marge put his hands into his jacket pockets, clenched his fists tightly, looked deep and said nothing.
"Very well, welcome back to the team."
Neuman smiled and turned towards the stairs, "Let's go, there are still many things to prepare."
The four people walked down the dim stairs.
Just as I walked to the corner of the second floor, three children carrying old schoolbags were standing there.
They are orphans adopted by Frenchie.
The three children stared blankly at the adoptive father who came down.
They noticed something was wrong with Frenchie.
The man who usually cooked for them with a smile and promised to take them to see the cherry blossoms at Japan was nervously pulling on his collar, his steps were frivolous, and his eyes were wandering.
"Dad?"
The youngest girl shouted timidly.
Frenchie paused for a moment.
He lowered his head and stared at the three children with bloodshot eyes for a while, a brief moment of confusion flashing in his eyes.
He thought these brats looked familiar, but the erased memory prevented him from remembering who they were.
When Neuman saw this, the smile on his face did not change, and he even waved to a few children in a friendly manner.
"Bye, kids."
Neuman said in a light voice, "We will take your dad out to play for a few days. You just stay at home."
After hearing what Neuman said, Frenchie seemed to find it a little funny.
He turned his head, pointed at Mesmer who was sweating profusely next to him, and made an exaggerated laugh:
"Are you kidding me? These brats are his, right? Little fat man, you have three children at such a young age?"
The three children froze on the spot, their eyes full of fear and confusion.
Marge is at the back.
She looked at the three children abandoned in the corridor, and her heart felt like it was being soaked in ice water.
She didn't say a word to stop her, nor did she look back. She just followed the excited lunatic in front of her and walked out of the apartment building that held Frenchie's new life step by step.