Frenchie's ten fingers were tapping rapidly on the keyboard, and the keys made a dense crackling sound.
He is now in an extremely excited state, sniffing from time to time and his head shaking constantly.
"Done."
Frenchie hit the Enter key hard, and the red warning box on the screen flashed twice, then disappeared completely, and the blue interface of Vought International's intranet jumped out.
"Then look for it quickly."
Neuman stood behind him, holding the back of the chair with both hands, staring at the screen.
Frenchie clicks on Homelander's database and quickly scrolls the mouse wheel.
The interface is disgustingly clean.
They are all official propaganda releases about saving people, stopping robberies, and condolences to children's hospitals.
"There is no record of anything before the age of eight."
Frenchie curled his lips and opened a few folders.
"The oldest information is a promotional video of the new era Superheroes. Fighting criminals and showing off are boring. But think about it, Vought is not an idiot. If there is really any black material that can kill people, it has been completely deleted by them long ago. How can it be kept in the database honestly."
Frenchie rubbed the sore corners of his eyes, and his fingers suddenly left the keyboard.
He turned his head and scratched his messy hair in confusion.
"Speaking of..."
Frenchie tilted his head and muttered with confusion, "Homelander is already eighteen years old this year? In my impression, isn't he still a little kid who hasn't grown up yet?"
As soon as these words came out, the expression of Mesmer, who was standing not far away, changed instantly.
Cold sweat broke out on the fat man's forehead and flowed down his cheeks.
When he deleted Frenchie's memory, he did not format the entire disk, but cut out small parts of the pictures that were beneficial to Vought, just like nitpicking.
This kind of delicate work is most likely to leave bugs.
Frenchie There is obviously a conflict in the current memory timeline.
Fortunately, Frenchie did not go into details.
He just felt that his mind was a little confused, so he took out the small transparent bag from his pocket, poured out a little white powder on the back of his hand, lowered his head and took a deep breath.
As the feeling of pleasure rushed straight into my brain, the trivial doubts were instantly thrown out of the sky.
Frenchie twisted his neck, his bones made a cracking sound, and turned his gaze to the screen again, his eyes becoming fanatical again.
"Don't be in a daze, and look carefully for those inconspicuous attachments."
Neuman urged with a stern face.
Frenchie's fingers were flying on the keyboard again.
Ten minutes later, he suddenly whistled.
"Interesting, here is an accident report from a few days ago."
Frenchie clicked on an encrypted hidden folder, "Brooklyn District gangs fought, Homelander brought justice from heaven, massacred the gang members, and saved the trapped people. This incident even made the news at the time."
"What kind of dirty information is this?"
Mesmer came over wiping sweat and sounded a little disappointed.
"Don't worry, fat man."
Frenchie clicked on an attachment at the bottom of the report, "Here is a piece of original surveillance video that has not been edited. Even the file name is garbled."
The video starts playing.
The picture is slightly shaken and the viewing angle is very low.
It can be seen from the few weeds swaying at the edge of the lens that this Video Camera was deliberately hidden in the grass in the green belt.
The scene begins with boring daily life on the street.
Pedestrians passed by in a hurry and vehicles shuttled between them.
"Why not just start recording from Jurassic?"
Frenchie stared at the screen and complained.
As soon as he finished speaking, the scene suddenly changed.
Two groups of gangsters armed with heavy firepower encountered each other on the street without warning and drew their guns at each other.
Passers-by screamed and fled in all directions. Several innocent people were unable to dodge and were shot and fell in a pool of blood. The scene instantly fell into chaos.
Immediately afterwards, a dull sonic boom sounded.
Homelander fell from the sky, and the dark red Heat Vision Cleansweep passed by, instantly cutting the gangsters into charred pieces.
Then there is the scene of Homelander gently comforting the injured people and showing compassion.
Up to this point, everything looks like a perfect heroic rescue.
But the video doesn't end there.
In the picture, Vought's disaster control and rescue team rushed to the scene to clean up.
At this moment, a staff member wearing the uniform of Vought left the team and walked straight to the grass where Video Camera was hiding without any movement of searching.
A big hand wearing Rubber Gloves appeared in the camera and came straight towards the camera.
Then the screen scrolled and the video stopped abruptly and turned into a black screen.
Except for Marge, everyone else in Basement will smile.
Video Camera is placed in advance.
The staff of Vought also knew the specific location of Video Camera and came directly to collect it afterwards.
This proves a fact.
This gang fight that resulted in the casualties of innocent people was not an accident at all, but a bloody drama directed and performed by Vought International.
The people were really hurt, but they were grateful to the murderer who caused the disaster.
Maybe that's not the case.
But this is no longer important.
As long as it is accompanied by slightly guided remarks, no one will delve into the tiny loopholes behind this video.
Everyone will only come to one conclusion after reading this:
In order to create gods, Vought International deliberately created disasters, resulting in the tragic deaths of innocent people. And the Homelander who showed mercy to others in front of the camera was a complete hypocrite Butcher.
"With this video, today is not in vain."
Neuman crossed his arms and smiled,
"It is enough that this video is real. As long as it is released as a primer, the public's emotions will be completely ignited. If we release those fake and fake materials later, no one will delve into the authenticity. They will just accept it."
This is a perfect heart-wrenching battle.
Frenchie stared at the frozen black screen and suddenly pressed the reverse button.
The screen plays backwards and finally freezes in the chaos before Homelander lands.
"Interesting."
Frenchie suddenly laughed briefly, stretched out his hand and touched a corner of the edge of the screen.
He partially enlarged that area.
A burly man wearing a black trench coat appeared on the screen.
The man was kneeling in a pool of blood covered with broken glass, holding an injured and bleeding woman tightly, his face full of despair and anger.
"Look who this is."
Frenchie came closer to the screen, "My old acquaintance."
Mesmer glanced at the fat face. "Do you know this unfortunate guy?"
"Of course I do."
Frenchie sniffed, leaned back, and spoke quickly,
"I dealt with him when I was on the street. It was an assassination mission. I was a paid killer, and he happened to be the target's personal bodyguard."
Frenchie stretched out his hand in mid-air and gestured for a shot, and made a "bang" sound from his mouth.
"This guy's name is Butcher. He has a bad temper and good skills. I remember he used to curse me on the street when I was drunk. He has a bloody hatred for Vought International."
Frenchie touched his chin, "It seems that when he was in the special forces, several of his comrades were all killed by Homelander."
Neuman's eyes lit up slightly when he heard this.
"My wife was lying in a pool of blood, and I was kneeling on the ground like a lost dog. Once this scene is posted online, it will definitely cause an uproar."
"More importantly, according to Frenchie, the seeds of hatred have long been buried in this man's heart. New and old hatreds are added together. As long as we provide him with a little guidance and provide him with some weapons and intelligence, this mad dog will be determined to bite Homelander's throat and become the best knife in our hands."
Neuman was very satisfied with this unexpected gain. She reached out and patted Frenchie on the shoulder.
"Well done, Frenchie. Move your fingers quickly and find out the current address of this mad dog. Let's go see him now."