The next morning.
Before the morning fog had time to dissipate, a dozen news helicopters were already hovering over New York.
Vought Tower The square outside was completely surrounded.
At the outermost perimeter are heavily armed troops.
Several heavy armored vehicles were directly across the intersection of the main road. The soldiers were hiding behind sandbags holding rifles, their fingers on the triggers, and their palms were soaked with cold sweat.
Inside the military defense line, Disaster Control Bureau mobilized more than a hundred registered Supe from all over the world.
These Supe, who were usually arrogant, were all wearing uniform black uniforms at the moment, staring nervously at the main entrance of the building.
The eyes of the whole world are focused on this moment.
In a command car two blocks away from the building, agent Marcus of the Disaster Control Bureau stared at the screen and loosened his tie irritably.
His inner shirt was soaked.
The battle outside looks scary. Hundreds of Supe plus modern troops seem to be in a posture of fighting to the death with Vought.
But only the politicians Marcus and Washington know in their hearts that this is all a bluff.
Politicians never want to face a completely out-of-control Homelander.
Nuclear bombs wipe out the ground New York?
That's a nonsense fantasy that only exists in doomsday movies.
Once nuclear weapons are used in Manhattan, United States's economic lifeline and political reputation will be completely destroyed.
But if the government does not take a tough stance today and allows public dissatisfaction to boil over, the government will completely lose its credibility.
So they prepared for the worst.
In Marcus's briefcase, there is a top-secret agreement that Washington faxed overnight.
The contents of this fucking agreement are ridiculous.
If Homelander breaks the rules and prepares to go on a killing spree at today's press conference, Marcus's task is not to order the fire, but to take advantage of the chaos and take this agreement to private peace talks with John.
The official bottom line is very humble:
As long as Homelander is willing to bow his head in front of the camera and cooperate with the government in performing a "voluntary confession" to calm the anger of the mob outside.
The official will send him away secretly in the future. Whether it is to South Pacific Ocean's private island or underground fortress, as long as he no longer appears in the public eye, he can still live the life of a local emperor.
All politicians want is face and votes. They don't care about justice at all, and they dare not really fight for it.
Marcus gritted his teeth and stared at the broadcast screen on the big screen.
He just prayed that things wouldn't come to that.
Inside Vought Tower, the press conference hall on the first floor.
This place has long been crowded with reporters from major media.
The flashing lights kept coming and going, making people unable to keep their eyes open.
Everyone is holding the recorder and Video Camera, like a group of hyenas smelling blood, waiting for today's feast.
Speaking of which, these people are really brave.
Have they never thought that if Vought cannot produce irrefutable evidence to refute those videos on the Internet, or if Homelander loses control on the spot, a disaster will directly break out, and they will be the first to die?
At this moment, the door on the side of the hall opened.
The hall, which was originally as noisy as a vegetable market, pressed the mute button at this moment.
Hundreds of reporters held their breath in unison, and the sound of swallowing could be clearly heard.
John walked out of the shadows in uniform.
He didn't have that signature sunny smile today.
He passed the solemn-looking Legend and the nervous Ashley.
He walked steadily, with small strides, and there was no unnecessary expression on his handsome face.
Facing countless pairs of eyes full of doubt, fear and excitement in the audience, he looked far away.
John walked to the center of the podium.
He ignored the microphones in the audience that were about to poke him in the face. He just slowly raised his hand and tapped the edge of the microphone in front of him twice with his fingertips.
Boom, boom.
The dull sound spread throughout the hall through the speakers.
At this time, the whole world's attention was focused on this press conference.
At the same time.
Godolkin University underground laboratory.
Neuman looked at the expressionless blond man on the screen, but his mind was not at all on the speech he was about to make.
She didn't think that Homelander could hold any comeback card in his hand.
Even if there is, so what?
Neuman glanced across the broadcast screen and caught a man wearing a gray jacket among the dense crowd of reporters in the audience.
That was the Supe killer raised by Godolkin. He was wearing a fake work badge and was hiding in the third row disguised as a photographer from a local newspaper.
What's more, she arranged more than one hidden stake to sneak in like this.
Over the years, she has cooperated with Godolkin's ability to sense the location of All-America Supe, bringing Supe who were smuggled from the border, or who were alone, to Godolkin University, and then modified the memory through Mesmer to make these people absolutely obedient.
Although these Supe generally have weak abilities, either more of something, or less of something, bigger or smaller, in the eyes of Godolkin, they are all waste that only distributes to death.
But as long as you pull out your gun at the critical moment and create a little chaos and bloodshed in that tight venue, it will be enough to ignite the Gunpowder barrel that is ready to explode at any time.
Neuman looked away confidently.
On the sofa next to her, Mesmer was holding a bag of puffed food, his whole body almost touching the TV screen, watching it more seriously than anyone else.
I don't know why, but I always feel like he's a little disappointed.
At the far end of the room, Godolkin was leaning on a chair, closing his eyes and relaxing.
Marge stood in the shadow by the door, his eyes wandering back and forth between the TV screen and the three people.
Until now, she is still confused.
Things have reached this point, but the instigators are now indifferent.
She couldn't guess what Godolkin wanted.
Different from the eerie silence of the underground laboratory, Godolkin University above the ground is in a kind of noise.
This place and Vought Tower, which is surrounded by the army, are two completely different worlds.
The early morning sunshine shines on the wide green playground, and the colorful welcome banners flutter in the wind.
There were no protesting mobs holding signs in Campus, nor was there the choking smell of tear gas.
Here, Vought International is an absolute believer, and Homelander is the ultimate idol of all young Supe.
From the first day they step into the school, the education these students receive is how to become a member of Vought.
Faced with the overwhelming abuse on the Internet, the teachers and students in Campus showed amazing tacit understanding.
They firmly believe that it is a conspiracy against Vought.
Since today is a press conference, the commander will definitely explain everything clearly.
So, do what you have to do.
Today was originally a big day.
The freshman entrance ceremony collides with the traditional Homecoming.
A large number of students and parents poured into Campus early, and all faculty and staff were on duty to maintain order at the scene.
In the rest area behind the rostrum, several celebrities Supe sent by Vought to support them were making final preparations surrounded by makeup artists, waiting for their appearance later.
At this time in previous years, Godolkin University's playground has long been occupied by reporters from the media.
But today, because All-America's attention was attracted by Vought Tower's life-and-death press conference, the media box here seemed empty, with only a few people.
Eddie stood on the edge of Lawn, kicked the cardboard box irritably, and screamed in pain. Who knows who put the stone pillar inside.
As a local reporter who is not favored by the editor-in-chief, seeing his colleagues rushing to Manhattan to grab a bite of meat that can get Pulitzer Prize, but I was sent here to shoot some damn welcome ceremony, Eddie's belly was full of evil fire.
"Stop being dazed!"
Eddie pointed to the high platform in front, "Aim the camera at the rostrum, push the panoramic view, and then cut to a close-up view of the principal."
The photographer yawned, picked up Video Camera, and turned the focus ring.
In the camera, Principal Doug walked up the steps to the podium with a glowing face.
He stood in front of the microphone, holding the edge of the podium with both hands, and looked around the audience at the thousands of energetic students and parents sitting on Lawn.
Doug cleared his throat.
[Dear teacher, dear students, the topic of my speech today is my mother. That year I had a high fever of 390 degrees... (joking)]