Let These Idiots Know Who's in Charge

John raised his head, his tone utterly serious. "If I only say I'm a superhero with Vought International, Stan Edgar can use the company to control me whenever he wants. But if I tell the whole world that you taught me to love this world... then in the public's eyes, you're the spiritual mentor who shaped me."

The eight-year-old boy's logic was clear enough to send a chill down one's spine.

"As long as the whole world loves me, as long as they know you're the person I care about most, Vought International's executives will never dare lay a hand on you lightly."

A cold smile without a trace of warmth curled John's lips. "Those big shots in their suits care most about stock prices and public opinion. I'm using what matters most to them to build you an indestructible shield."

Lynn looked at the blond boy before him, his feelings complicated.

With his own hands, he had shaped a superhuman being who knew how to exploit the rules and manipulate people.

At this moment, that double-edged sword was holding nothing back as it aimed its sharpest edge at the outside world and placed its softest hilt in his hands.

"Don't do it again."

Lynn reached out and ruffled John's hair. "Keeping yourself safe is the best protection you can give me."

John obediently nuzzled Lynn's palm and closed his eyes, like a beast sheathing its claws.

The next morning, in the conference room on the top floor of Vought Tower.

The enormous projection screen displayed the astonishing figures from last night's talk show.

A green curve soared upward, representing the rise in Vought International's share price after NASDAQ opened.

Madelyn stood before the screen, her face glowing as she reported to Stan Edgar at the far end of the long table. "Sir, last night's show broke North America's ratings record for the past ten years. Discussion of 'Homelander' on social media has completely eclipsed every entertainment star and politician. Merchandise preorders passed fifty million dollars within an hour."

Edgar rested his clasped hands on the table. There was little joy on his face as he calmly watched the replay of John mentioning Lynn with a smile.

"He mentioned Lynn," Edgar said flatly.

Several executives in the conference room exchanged glances, and the atmosphere cooled a little.

Legend exhaled a cloud of smoke and coughed twice. "He's a kid. It's perfectly normal for him to be attached to his adoptive father. This is extremely helpful in shaping his image as a hero with a human side. PR is already building on it, and the results have been excellent."

"I don't care how PR writes its press releases."

Edgar swept his gaze over them. "All I care about is who holds the reins on the motivation of our most vital asset."

Madelyn's smile faded. "Do you mean Lynn has too much influence over John?" she asked tentatively. "Do you need us to step in by force?"

"No." Edgar shook his head. "John still needs Lynn as a stabilizing influence. If we intervene by force and anger this little monster with his superhuman destructive power, that would be a disaster. Since John wants to bring Lynn into the spotlight, we'll go along with it."

Edgar paused, then made his decision.

"Draft an appointment letter. Officially promote Lynn to senior director of the Vought International Superheroes Management Department and bring him into the core decision-making circle. Give him the best office, an annual salary befitting his position, and company stock options. I want his interests tied completely to Vought International. As long as he can't bear to give up that wealth and luxury, he'll keep a tight leash around that little monster's neck for us."

That afternoon, at the Long Island Estate.

Lynn sat on the sunlit balcony, looking at the gold-lettered appointment letter that had just been delivered by a specially dispatched helicopter, along with the enormous check enclosed beside it.

On the lawn below, John was playing fetch with Buddy the golden retriever, ball in hand, his laughter ringing clear.

"A sugar-coated bullet..."

Lynn casually tossed the appointment letter onto the round table and took a sip of coffee, an almost imperceptible smile appearing on his lips.

Only now had this contest between him and Vought International's executives truly reached the stage where both sides began making their moves.

The eighty-eighth floor of Vought Tower was an entire floor of executive offices that had been specially reinforced and bulletproofed.

Sunlight streamed through the one-way glass curtain wall, spilling across the broad walnut desk.

Lynn sat in a soft, ergonomic leather chair, toying with an expensive fountain pen as he quietly watched the antlike traffic moving beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Happy with your new surroundings?"

Madelyn pushed open the mahogany double doors and walked in, carrying a thick stack of documents.

Lynn turned around and set down the pen, an impeccable professional smile on his face. "Nothing to complain about. Especially this coffee machine with its built-in grinder. It's so much better than that piece of junk in the underground lab that jammed even on instant coffee."

Madelyn laughed, walked up to the desk, and set the documents down heavily.

"Since you're drawing a salary worthy of this office, you'll have to do the corresponding work."

Madelyn dropped her smile and switched into work mode. "Starting today, besides retaining full responsibility for John's daily schedule and psychological evaluations, you'll also take over the routine affairs of the Superheroes Management Department. Simply put, aside from John, who's still a minor, the attendance, evaluations, and even the messes of the company's more than one hundred and twenty currently active registered superheroes will all be your responsibility."

Lynn casually opened the top document. It was an emergency plan for a PR crisis.

The photograph showed a man in a silver bodysuit, his body bulging with muscle.

"'Silver Streak,' a speed-type mutant. A B-list hero the company poured considerable resources into promoting."

Madelyn rubbed her temples, her tone weary and disgusted. "He got drunk at a nightclub in Brooklyn last night. In a fight over a female dance partner, he broke every bone in three gangsters' bodies and knocked down half a wall. Fortunately, PR paid to suppress the news overnight, and we spoke to the police as well. It's been classified as a hero taking down a gang hideout."

"So, what do you need me to do?" Lynn lifted his eyes to Madelyn.

"Put him in his place," Madelyn said coldly. "Once these bottom-tier mutants get a little fame, they start losing touch with reality. President Edgar wants you to clean up the company's culture and let these idiots know who's in charge."

Lynn understood.

Vought's executives were taking this opportunity to test his methods, and they also wanted to see whether he could handle trouble involving superhumans independently of John.

Half an hour later, in an internal holding room on Vought Tower's third basement level.

Silver Streak lounged brazenly in an iron chair, bouncing his leg without a care.

When he saw that the person pushing the door open was an ordinary Asian man in a tailored suit, without any fluctuations of superhuman power, he couldn't help letting out a derisive snort.

"Who are you? PR's new ass-wiping specialist?"

Silver Streak tilted his chin arrogantly. "Tell them I took down three armed thugs last night and saved that poor girl. They should be setting up an exclusive interview for me, not locking me up in this shithole!"