Solomon leaned back on the sofa in the CEO's office, his fingertips tapping idly against the polished tabletop.
Outside the window lay New York's gray skyline. The roar of the protesters below seeped faintly through the glass, like the irritating whine of mosquitoes.
His fingers suddenly stilled. He looked up at Ashley and said evenly:
"Arrange a press conference to be livestreamed across the internet. First, we need to curb the wave of Supes causing trouble everywhere. Have Homelander and the others all return to headquarters. I'll attend this press conference."
Ashley's eyes instantly lit up, and she nodded at once.
"Yes, boss! I'll arrange it right away!"
Her efficiency had always been impeccable. Vought's entire Public Relations Department went into overdrive like a precision machine wound tight.
Top-priority notices went out to major mainstream media outlets across America and around the world. Security routes were replanned, and a press entrance was hastily set up downstairs.
Within ten minutes, hordes of reporters carrying cameras and microphones were pouring toward Vought headquarters. Even the protesters gathered at the entrance were forced to either side by the sheer turnout.
Meanwhile, in the large conference room on the top floor, the members of The Seven who had just rushed back from incident sites around the country sat in small groups.
Soldier Boy lounged brazenly against his chair, his long legs propped overbearingly on the conference table. He spun an empty beer can in his hand, cursing nonstop.
"Fuck! These rogue Supes are like the milk I shoot out of my dick-one load after another, never fucking ending! I came here to be a hero and live it up, not lick this shit up like a whore every goddamn day!"
His curses rang out, but no one in the conference room responded.
Homelander stood