The door was tightly closed, completely blocking out Public Relations Department's life-threatening phone ringtones.
The conference room was depressingly quiet.
There were only three people sitting at the long conference table.
Ashley was standing next to the screen holding the tablet. The cold sweat on her forehead had wet her bangs, but she didn't even dare to wipe them.
Legend was sitting on the left side of the table, still holding an unlit cigar in his mouth.
This old man, who was used to seeing strong winds and waves, had an unprecedented solemn look on his face at this moment.
"Public Relations Department has been completely submerged."
Legend spit out the cigar into the ashtray on the table, crossed his hands to support his chin,
"The servers of major websites are all red. This is not an ordinary emergency. This is a long-planned hunt. The group of people hiding in the dark put Vought on the fire grill, and now All-America people are adding firewood to it."
John is sitting in the main seat, his sitting posture is very upright.
"Schedule a press conference."
John looked at Legend and said in a low voice, "I will go to the scene in person and explain it clearly to them."
"No."
Legend shook his head without hesitation and rejected the proposal directly.
"There's no point in clarifying it now because no one will believe you."
Legend stretched out a finger and tapped on the table.
"Listen, John. I've been in this business all my life. Those netizens really like to create gods and put you on a high altar, but believe me, what they enjoy more is pulling a god off the altar with their own hands."
"They are now in a carnival of cathartic emotions. At this juncture, it doesn't matter what the truth is. They only want to believe in the conspiracy theories they have made up."
Ashley nodded furiously beside him, like pounding garlic.
Legend looked into John's eyes and slowed down his speech:
"Moreover, in this deadly situation against us, the other side must have some backup plans. The surveillance and the self-immolation suicide bomber are just the appetizer."
"We are completely passive now. If you stand up and hold a press conference now, no matter what you say, you will be criticized by the other party with a magnifying glass. If you act angry, they will say you are a tyrant; if you act sympathetic, they will say you are a hypocritical Butcher who sheds crocodile tears."
John slowly tightened his hands flat on the table.
With the sound of breaking, he dug out ten deep finger holes on the conference table.
To be honest, even when he was surrounded and suppressed by the whole world, he had never been so confused.
Because this time he was facing the people he had really been protecting.
"What to do now?"
There was no fluctuation in John's voice.
"Cold treatment."
Legend decisively gave countermeasures, "Vought's official channels can continue to issue clarification announcements and continue to dump those investigative evidence on the Internet. Even if netizens don't read it, even if they scold Vought, we have to follow the process."
"But you, John. You must not appear now."
Legend looked directly into those Azure eyes,
"You need to wait. Wait for the rats hiding behind to play out all their trump cards and back-ups, and when they think they can overthrow Vought in one go, you will show up with your strongest stance and strike a fatal blow."
Silence fell in the conference room.
There was a long silence.
John looked at the sawdust on the table and slowly relaxed.
He pulled his hand out of the finger hole and patted the wood chips in his palm.
"Okay."
John nodded, "I listen to you."
His tone was so calm that it was scary.
Legend looked deeply at the blond man.
The old man sighed.
"The most important thing you need to do now is act as usual."
Legend stood up and walked to John, "It's time to patrol, it's time to go home, stay calm, and don't mess up and let those rats see the joke."
He reached out and patted John's broad shoulder.
"Remember, you are not alone. In the past ten years, you have cleaned up all the dirty things in Vought. Now Vought is no longer the man-eating monster cave it once was. Someone will definitely remember the things you have done."
Legend retracted his hand, walked to the door of the conference room, and held the door handle.
"Ten thousand steps back."
The old man stopped, turned his head and looked at John's side face, his voice was firm,
"If Lynn were sitting here now, he would definitely want you to stay calm and not get your hands dirty."
John didn't speak, just stood up, pulled the cloak behind him, turned around and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window.
The wind above New York is very cold.
John walked through the gray-white clouds as usual.
According to the unshakable habit of ten years, at this time, he should circle the sky above New York twice to confirm that there is no fire or robbery taking place on the street.
The strong wind tore the Stars and Stripes cloak behind him, making a hunting sound.
John lowered his head slightly, looking through the clouds and looking at the ant-like traffic and buildings below.
He felt an unprecedented confusion.
It's been ten years.
During these more than three thousand days and nights, regardless of wind or rain, typhoons or thunderstorms, he would appear over the city on time.
He didn't bring a script, and he didn't let Vought's Video Camera follow behind him.
He is really saving people.
Burn those damn gangsters to ashes, catch the kids who are about to fall off the stairs, and stop the out-of-control trucks.
He thinks he has done everything a Superheroes should do.
But why has it become like this now?
When he woke up, the people who once cheered for him on the street and asked for autographs now looked at him with only defensive fear and even disgust in their eyes.
Suddenly, Super Hearing caught a burst of piercing laughter.
The sound came from an abandoned basketball court two blocks below.
Several young people on skateboards were gathering there.
One of them, a young man with dreadlocks, was holding a can of beer in his hand and was talking loudly.
Next to him was a pretty girl in a tight tank top.
In order to show his fearlessness and masculinity in front of this girl, the young man with dreadlocks shouted loudly.
Anyway, Homelander is flying so high that it is impossible to hear their chatting in this corner.
"Everyone on the Internet says he is a murderer, I'm not surprised at all!"
The dreadlocked young man took a sip of beer and laughed loudly, "My dad worked at Vought International's Logistics Department. He has long told me the details of that cloaked monster."
The girl approached curiously. "What's the details?"
"That guy looks like a Superheroes on the surface, but secretly he's a perverted mama's boy with a sick brain!"
The young man with dreadlocks was talking nonsense, and the more he talked, the more excited he became.
"I heard that he bites his pacifier even when sleeping, and has a disgusting fetish for old women. He is just a lunatic who has not been weaned off!"
Several companions around him burst into exaggerated laughter in unison.
In the clouds.
John stopped.
He floated quietly in mid-air, listening to the unbearable curses and ridicules below.
The lies he made up casually to pick up girls just hit his ears.