Chapter 362
Butcher clenched his fists, obviously not wanting to recall that painful experience, but he still spoke,
"They were directly hit by Heat Vision and were scorched on the spot. I was standing far away and was only scratched on the chest by the aftermath. I was lucky enough to save my life."
Got it.
The case was solved.
If you don't keep your hands, with John's Heat Vision's terrifying level, let alone rubbing it on the chest, even if it is swept close to the scalp, ordinary people will definitely be brain-dead in an instant. How can there be any miracle that they can still be alive and kicking after being scratched by the aftermath?
There is only one truth.
That was done by Clone.
At that time, Clone John was probably just created by Godolkin not long ago, and its abilities were far from fully developed.
Godolkin sent him to Europe to familiarize himself with his abilities, and he happened to bump into Butcher's team, and he conveniently put this basin of dirty water on John's head.
Lynn sighed and told Butcher this theory in detail.
Including the existence of Clone, and the tricks of Godolkin.
Butcher After listening, everyone froze in place.
He stared, his mind pounding.
In other words, the blond man he had been gnashing his teeth at for the past few years and treating him as his lifelong enemy actually had no idea that he was such a big person from beginning to end.
All his hatred and obsession are all a joke carefully designed by others.
This feeling is a hundred times more uncomfortable than being beaten with a real knife or a real gun.
Butcher was like a deflated rubber ball, and his originally straight back suddenly stooped.
"I'm sorry."
He lowered his head and squeezed out these three words from his throat, his face turning blue and white.
John looked away indifferently and looked at the Manhattan street scene outside the window again, paying no attention to him at all.
For John, this kind of apology from a minor character is meaningless.
Lynn looked at Butcher's embarrassed look, cleared his throat, and began to deliver the final verdict.
"Strictly speaking, you are not an employee of Vought, you are just an ordinary person."
Lynn leaned on the back of the chair and began to count Butcher's crimes in detail.
"Your main fault is that you were deceived by that woman Neuman and joined them, but it's quite funny to say..."
Lynn paused and teased,
"The so-called complicity is limited to you taking the same car with them to Chicago, and you even opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate."
After saying this, John, who had been looking out the window with a straight face, didn't hold back and snorted.
Ginger is still old and spicy, and Lynn still looks serious and stable.
"Another mistake of yours was that you allowed the Godolkin group to use your identity to discredit Vought online, but you did not stand up to clarify."
Lynn folded his hands on the table and made the final decision,
"Let's do this. Becca, Butcher, you two leave New York, leave United States, and go to work in the branch of Australia."
He looked at the two people,
"The place has just experienced turmoil, and now it is a mess. There are a lot of messes to clean up, and you will suffer."
This is exile, but also protection, and it gives them a chance to start over.
Hearing the result, Becca breathed a sigh of relief.
She covered her mouth and tears instantly burst into her eyes.
"Thank you... Thank you Lynn Director, thank you John."
Becca kept bowing and thanking me while crying.
She turned her head and glanced at Butcher who was still stunned. She was so angry that she raised her hand and hit Butcher hard on the back of the head.
"Say thank you quickly!"
Butcher was so slapped that he staggered, his face flushed, and he bowed incoherently.
"Thank... thank you."
Watching these two people exit the office with great gratitude, they closed the glass door behind them.
Lynn picked up the slightly cold coffee, took a sip, and turned to look at John who was standing by the window.
"What do you think of the result of my treatment?"
John turned around, and the sun shone on his blond hair through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Becca and Butcher have equal merits and demerits."
John smiled slightly,
"Very good."
The glass door of the office was pushed open again.
Frenchie walked in slowly.
Compared to the restraint of Becca and Butcher just now, Frenchie's current state is more of a feeling of embarrassment.
His shirt was wrinkled, his eye sockets were sunken, and his hair was as messy as a bird's nest.
As soon as the hijacking of the TV station ended, the two men were pinned to the ground by the police who arrived.
Because Clark was young, he was taken back by his parents after being criticized and educated at the police station. Naturally, he, an adult with a criminal record, was left in the detention center.
But he didn't suffer much.
The situation outside has completely reversed, Vought is back on top, and the police are well aware of what Frenchie is doing on the TV station.
Everyone knows that Vought will send people to get this hero sooner or later, and no one will make things difficult for him.
In addition to the fact that he had been suffering from addiction for the past few days and couldn't deal with it, and he felt uncomfortable all over the body, he even ate one more chicken drumstick in prison than others.
Early this morning, Lynn sent someone to go through the formalities and took him directly to the building.
Frenchie stood in front of the desk, rubbing his hands on the sides of his thighs uneasily.
He lowered his head, his eyes wandering on the carpet.
He is very afraid that Lynn will look down on him.
"Sit down and say."
Lynn's voice interrupted Frenchie's random thoughts.
Frenchie raised his head, only to find that Lynn was not sitting behind the desk putting on airs.
Lynn came over with a cup of steaming coffee.
"I added two pieces of sugar for you."
Lynn handed the cup to Frenchie with a gentle tone.
Frenchie stretched out his hands flattered, took the cup in a hurry, and almost spilled the coffee on Lynn's sleeves.
"Hug... sorry, thank you Lynn Director."
Frenchie stammered his thanks and sat down on the edge of the sofa with a cup in hand, only daring to sit halfway down his butt.
"Relax."
Lynn sat on the sofa opposite him,
"Vought was able to successfully get out of the crisis and turn the situation around this time, thanks to your operations at the TV station."
Upon hearing this compliment, Frenchie did not show any proud expression, but instead buried his head lower.
"Mr. Director, don't say that."
Frenchie's voice is bitter,
"I also committed a heinous crime. If it hadn't been for me, things wouldn't have become such a big deal."
He took a deep breath to pour out all the guilt in his heart.
"I helped her crack the intranet permissions in Neuman's hands. I also extracted those videos and files for her. Even Butcher..."
Frenchie smiled to himself,
"Butcher was living a stable life, but I instigated him to join Neuman's group."
"Okay, Frenchie."
Lynn waved his hand, interrupting Frenchie's confession.
"We know that your memory was erased by Mesmer."
Lynn's tone was not disturbing, but it made people feel at ease.
"Gong is merit, fault is fault. You risked your life to go to the TV station to help Vought speak out. Everyone sees this credit."
Lynn paused and got to the point directly.
"Tell me, what do you want? We will try our best to satisfy you."