The jumping numbers finally stopped at the top.
The metal door slid open to both sides, and the security officer leading the way made a gesture of invitation, stopped where he was, and stopped moving forward.
Frenchie stepped on the carpet and walked alone to the heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor.
Stopping in front of the door, Frenchie lowered his head and glanced at himself.
A jacket stained with oil and mud, a wrinkled T-shirt underneath, and a pair of old leather shoes with worn-out soles.
His appearance as a drug addict was incompatible with this spotless corridor.
Frenchie took a deep breath, reached out and tugged at the corner of his clothes, trying to make himself look a little more respectable.
To be honest, he was very nervous.
My palms were covered in cold sweat.
Just as he was rubbing his hands and doing crazy mental construction, a calm voice came from the door.
"Come in."
Frenchie felt a chill in his heart.
He put away his unnecessary movements, opened the door and walked in.
John is leaning on the chair behind his desk, with two cups of steaming coffee in front of him.
"Sit."
John pointed to the chair opposite, "Don't be so restrained, just relax."
Frenchie walked to the table, pulled out the chair and sat down.
He did not touch the cup of coffee, but straightened his back and stared at the blond man in front of him for a moment.
"I'm here to help you."
Frenchie Get straight to the point.
When he said this sentence, all the muscles in Frenchie's whole body tensed up.
He was already prepared for the other party to show disdain and even throw him out directly.
After all, in the eyes of outsiders, he is just a delirious street trash.
However, John did not laugh or get angry.
He took a sip of coffee and looked at Frenchie seriously.
This kind of equal gaze made Frenchie feel a little uncomfortable.
"Don't you ask me what I can do?"
Frenchie touched his nose and couldn't help but ask, "In other words, don't you feel disgusted in your heart when you look at me like this rotten poisonous insect?"
Hearing this, John smiled lightly.
He put down the coffee cup in his hand, leaned forward slightly, and looked over the rising heat to fall on Frenchie's pale face.
"I know you."
As soon as these words came out, Frenchie's eyes changed instantly.
"I have a good memory."
John pointed to his head and said calmly, "As long as I pay a little attention to someone, I will never forget it in my life. You used to be in that Russian gangster, right."
Frenchie was stunned for a few seconds and nodded dully.
"Back then I went to clean out that gangster's den."
John lean back on the chair,
"When I rushed in, the people inside were scared to death, and everyone was running for their lives. Only you ran into Basement against the crowd, took advantage of the chaos, broke the lock, took away a child they imprisoned, and then got into the sewer."
Frenchie's Adam's apple rolled a bit.
He stared at John and said subconsciously, "Then since you saw it then, why didn't you kill me?"
"Because I can see that you are different from those scum who only bully the weak."
John looked at him calmly, "You are kind in nature. I think it is a good deal to save a good person's life in this fucked up world."
There was a brief silence in the office.
John picked up the pen on the table, turned it around twice in his hand, and then said:
"Later I heard that after you settled the child, you also gave up drugs and found a serious job repairing electrical appliances in Brooklyn, right?"
Frenchie was really shocked this time.
He suddenly moved closer to the desk and raised his voice a little higher. "How come you even know this?"
"Vought International wants to make a propaganda video, and I also want to avoid accidentally injuring civilians during violent cleansing."
John shrugged, "So in the past ten years, Vought has been an insider in the slightly famous gangs of All-America. I just asked the informant in the Russian gang to pay attention to your movements."
John looked at Frenchie with a smile on his face, "It turns out that your kid is very vigilant. It didn't take long to find out that he was following you, and almost killed him in an alley."
Frenchie After hearing these words, his whole body was like a deflated rubber ball, leaning heavily on the back of the chair.
He looked at the ceiling, let out a long sigh, and then shook his head with a wry smile.
"Actually, I have no memory of the things you mentioned."
Frenchie pointed at his temple and twitched the corner of his mouth in a self-deprecating manner.
"My brain has been tampered with, and a very important memory has been erased. Now all I have left in my mind is hostility towards Vought International."
He put away his smile and looked at John again, his eyes becoming clearer and firmer than ever before.
"But I choose to believe you now."
Frenchie picked up the cup of warm coffee on the table and took a big sip.
"You are a superior Superheroes. You have no reason to fabricate such an outrageous lie to deceive a low-level person like me who will die on the street at any time."
At this moment, the last trace of confusion in Frenchie's heart completely disappeared.
On the way here, there was always a thorn in his heart.
He was doubting that if everything said on the Internet was true, and if the gang war was really directed and performed by Vought, and taking human life into consideration, then by helping Homelander, it would be tantamount to betraying his own bottom line.
But what John said just now, invisibly gave the most perfect answer.
A hero who would notice a gangster who saved people during the killings ten years ago, a man who would secretly confirm whether the other person is back on track, absolutely cannot be the cold-blooded Butcher on the Internet who will do whatever it takes to gain popularity.
In the next few minutes, Frenchie spoke very quickly without hiding anything.
He told all the clues he knew in one piece.
Including Butcher, who was blinded by hatred and became a knife in the hands of others.
John listened quietly.
At this moment, the office door was pushed open.
Marcus strode in.
As an agent of the Disaster Control Bureau, he has been stationed in this building and responsible for supervision since the official agency reached cooperation with Vought ten years ago.
Marcus glanced at the disgraced Frenchie sitting in the guest chair, completely ignoring this man dressed as a drug addict.
He walked straight to the desk, his expression solemn as never before.
"Things have been brewing for several days."
Marcus put his hands on the table and stared at John, "You must hold a press conference now, stand up and explain clearly, and give everyone an explanation."
He took a deep breath with a warning in his tone:
"If you can find a way to end it perfectly, everyone will be happy. Otherwise, Disaster Control Bureau will have full power to intervene in the investigation. Now it is not only the top leaders of the country who are putting pressure, but the eyes of the whole world are staring at this, otherwise..."
Marcus's voice stopped abruptly.
He swallowed back the second half of the sentence.
If there is a real quarrel in the future, it will be a war between the state machinery and Vought, and it will have little to do with him.
But if he says it all now and angers the man in front of him in this room, there won't even be anyone to collect his body.
With a salary of 300,000 yuan a month, why should I work hard?
"Tomorrow."
John spoke slowly, "I will give everyone an explanation at tomorrow's press conference."
John and Frenchie looked at each other. Now, they are going to find someone.
One witness.