Homelander slowly released his grip on Maeve and spread his arms, a faint, insincere smile appearing on his face as he tried to ease the tension.
"Come on, Maeve. Do you really hate him that much?"
Maeve remained silent, her lips pressed into a tight line. The atmosphere around her was so oppressive that even the air seemed to have frozen.
Seeing this, Homelander suddenly threw an arm around Solomon's shoulders and yanked him hard against his chest. The smile instantly vanished from his face, replaced by a trace of icy ruthlessness.
"Then what if I did this..."
Before he finished speaking, Homelander suddenly threw a punch, so fast that it left nothing but an afterimage. With a wet squelch, his fist went straight through Solomon's chest.
A large, bloody hole appeared, blood instantly gushing out and staining Solomon's clothes red, splashing onto Homelander's glove as well.
"Would that make you feel better?"
Homelander did not even glance at Solomon in his arms. His voice was utterly flat, as though he had merely done something insignificant.
Maeve was stunned, her pupils contracting sharply as she stared at the scene before her in disbelief.
She had never imagined that Homelander, who had been putting in a good word for Solomon one second, would punch straight through his chest without hesitation the next.
Solomon looked even more taken aback. He had not expected Homelander to pull something like this either.
This sneaky bastard. He was angry, but instead of taking it out on Maeve, he took it out on me.
Then he saw Maeve was angry and sacrificed me to appease her.
He raised his hand with difficulty and, using the last of his strength, flipped Homelander off. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he cursed through gritted teeth: