After the two knocks, the only sound left in the hall was the clicking sound of the shutter being pressed crazily.
John stood in front of countless black cameras.
His eyes swept from the first row to the last row.
"A lot has happened in the past few days."
John's voice spread throughout the audience through the microphone. It was smooth and low, and no emotional ups and downs could be heard.
"The Internet is full of comments about Vought International and about me personally. Some people posted surveillance videos of gang fights, some people released blurry videos with the beginning and end cut off, and some people even staged a tragic drama by setting themselves on fire in front of this building."
The reporters in the audience pricked up their ears, and many of them had their recorders almost raised to the security personnel's faces.
John placed his hands on the edge of the podium and leaned forward slightly.
"I would like to give a formal response here."
John looked at Video Camera with the red light on in front of him, "All recent accusations against Vought and me are all premeditated nonsense."
Wow--
There was an uncontrollable commotion in the audience.
"Vought doesn't need to hire gangsters to act."
John ignored the commotion and continued,
"For the past ten years, I have been patrolling the skies over this country every day, stopping robberies and putting out fires. The people I saved were real people, not names in the script. But now, a group of rats hiding in dark corners, relying on a few edited videos and a few pre-arranged actors, want to obliterate all of this."
John stood up straight and glanced across the audience:
"The truth you want is often just a lie you want to believe."
Not only did these words not calm his anger, but they were like a drop of water falling into a boiling pan of oil.
Reporters don't want to hear this kind of official excuse at all. What they want is for Homelander to bow his head and admit his mistake.
A reporter sitting in the front row suddenly stood up.
"Homelander! Why should we believe your words!"
The male reporter raised his microphone and asked loudly.
"You killed that man's fiancée! How do you explain it now? An innocent woman died tragically, and a desperate man set himself on fire in front of your Vought Tower! They are also human beings, they have parents, maybe there are still ungrown children at home, and there are pets waiting for them to feed after get off work!"
"An originally beautiful family was completely shattered because of your atrocities! The online evidence is conclusive, and the video cannot be faked! Why are you making excuses now!"
The flash lights under the stage merged into daylight.
John stood in the dazzling white light without blinking an eyelid.
He looked at the indignant man quietly, and when the other man stopped breathing heavily, he slowly approached the microphone in front of him.
"What if I said..."
John's voice was not loud, but it clearly overcame the noise in the audience.
"The victim who died tragically in your mouth was not dead at all?"
This sentence followed the live broadcast signal and was instantly transmitted to Godolkin University's laboratory.
Neuman, who was originally careless, suddenly straightened his back as if he was shocked by Stormfront.
Her big eyes were now widened, staring at the calm face of John on the screen.
How is this possible?
She obviously sent killers to the hospital to finish off the video when it was first uploaded, and there were more than one!
Godolkin, who had closed his eyes to rest his mind, also opened his eyes when these words fell.
He slowly turned his head and his eyes fell on Neuman's stiff back.
Neuman reacted quickly. She pressed the communicator hidden in her collar and gave the command very quickly:
"Shoot as soon as the target appears! Don't worry about whether you can escape, just smash her head in!"
Vought Tower In the lobby on the first floor, the whole place was in an uproar.
John didn't explain much.
He just took half a step back and patted his hands twice.
A man wearing a gray jacket had a cold look in his eyes. He received the command in the headset and quickly touched the inside of the jacket with his right hand.
Draw the gun and load it.
At the moment when he was about to pull the gun out from the gap in the crowd.
Tsk--
Heat Vision passed through the gap between the two reporters without warning and penetrated directly between the man's eyebrows.
A cloud of blood mist exploded from the back of the man's head, and he fell backwards.
Screams instantly tore through the entire press hall.
The surrounding reporters were so frightened that they crawled to the ground and hid, and the scene fell into huge chaos.
They all unanimously believed that Homelander was going on a killing spree.
Until the man fell down, a Pistol equipped with a silencer slipped from his pocket and fell to the floor with a clang.
The reporters who were still screaming and running around looked at the Pistol, and their voices got stuck in their throats.
There are no fools among the media people present.
A man with a silencer Pistol disguised himself as a reporter and infiltrated the venue.
Homelander As soon as he said that the witness was not dead, this man was about to draw his gun.
It is self-evident what it means to be so anxious to keep silent in public.
There is definitely an invisible hand behind everything.
Of course, the reporters were also secretly speculating in their hearts whether this could be another plot by Vought to kill people or silence them, or direct and act on their own.
But no one dared to shout any more.
John The red light in his eyes slowly faded, and he didn't even look at the corpse.
Along with the sound of applause, a dark figure walked out of the shadows.
It's Black Noir.
At this moment, he was leading a woman to the podium.
Black Noir's position was very particular. His body was slightly tilted to the side, hiding from the woman's side, always on guard against hidden guns that might appear in the crowd.
All the cameras focused on the haggard-looking woman at the same second.
Woman walks up to the microphone.
She looked at the countless shocked and confused faces in the audience, her eyes were red, and she took a deep breath.
"I am Becca."
Becca's voice was a little trembling, but it was extremely clear, "It is also the fiancée who was held in the arms of the so-called self-immolation man in that long video. You can compare it with the video to see if I am actually her."
The male reporter in the audience who had been aggressive just now had his mouth open for a long time and could not say a word.
"I did not die, nor was I harmed by Homelander."
Becca raised his hand and pointed at the scar on his abdomen.
"The gang conflict a few days ago was real. I was hit by a stray bullet and almost died. It was Homelander who saved me and stopped the bleeding. Without him, Billy and I would have turned into corpses long ago."
The only sound left in the hall was the click of the shutter.
"As for the man who set himself on fire in the square yesterday."
Becca bit her lip and finally couldn't help but shed tears on the podium.
"I don't know him at all! My fiancé's name is Billy Butcher. He is stronger than the man in the video, and his walking habits are different. That man wore the same clothes as my fiancé, deliberately imitated his appearance in front of the camera, and then committed suicide to frame the benefactor who saved me!"
This passage was like a bombshell, exploding directly among the reporters.
Forged victims, pretended to be family members and set themselves on fire.
This crazy method sent shivers down the spines of all the media people present who claimed to have seen big storms.
Becca on the stage wiped away tears and looked firmly at the audience.
"I stand here today just to tell everyone that the overwhelming conspiracy theories on the Internet are all lies made up by people with ulterior motives!"