V Plan

Homelander smiled as he walked toward Marty, step by step.

Blood and scraps of flesh covered the floor.

His red boots made sticky sounds as they stepped through them.

Marty's heartbeat could not escape Homelander's hearing. It pounded like a drum.

The person Homelander hated most was not Frank, but Marty.

Because when it came to things like the incinerator and the pressure chamber, the grown-up Homelander could convince himself: I survived.

But that incident during puberty was different. That was shame.

And shame was the hardest thing to erase.

Marty's body twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes. The agony of his crushed balls left him deathly pale, but more terrifying than the pain was Homelander standing right in front of him.

His last shred of hope vanished, and his face drained of color. "John."

Homelander smiled, very gently. "What did you just call me?"

Cold sweat streamed down Marty's forehead. "Homelander."

"No." Homelander shook his head. "I'm John."

Homelander crouched down and looked at him. "That's what you used to call me."

Marty swallowed, not daring to answer.

The hellish laboratory made him forget even the pain in his balls.

His survival instinct forced him to speak. "John, I never hurt you. We got along pretty well, right?"

"Call me Homelander," Homelander said with a smile.

Marty was dumbfounded, his psychological pressure at breaking point. When I call you Homelander, you say you're John. When I call you John, you say you're Homelander.

What the hell do you want?!

Homelander continued, "Back then, I was just a kid hiding under the covers, doing something every teenage boy does. Then you turned it into a joke and told the whole lab."

Marty began to tremble. "Sir, it was just a joke."

Homelander fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. "You know what?"

"After that, every time I heard someone laughing, I wondered if they were laughing at me too."

The last trace of color left Marty's face. Soldier Boy stood beside them without a word, watching quietly.

Crushing Marty's balls with a kick had been his revenge as a father.

The only person truly entitled to decide whether Marty lived or died was Homelander.

Unlike in the original show, Marty had not died so early. Now, the horrific scene in the laboratory had already broken him.

"I'm sorry, Jo... Home..." Marty broke down crying, not knowing what to call Homelander.

Homelander stayed silent for a long time. Then he slowly stood up. "Marty, I really was pathetic back then. But not anymore."

He placed his foot on Marty's head and applied a little pressure. Marty's head split apart.

"I forgive you." Homelander smiled.

"Oh! My God!" The elevator doors opened, and a startled cry rang out.

Father and son turned around together.

It was Barbara, the laboratory supervisor.

Barbara had received a notification. Madelyn had only told her that Homelander had gone mad and that she needed to hurry to the laboratory.

She had not expected to find almost everyone dead the moment the elevator doors opened. Most terrifying of all, there was also a battle-hardened veteran watching menacingly.

Homelander was immersed in the pleasure of revenge. Seeing Barbara brought him back to his senses a little.

The woman in charge of the bad room.

Whenever Homelander disobeyed, he would be sent inside. There was nothing but white in there, completely sealed off.

No toys, no windows, no sounds, no one to talk to him. Nothing at all.

Homelander felt apprehensive and actually found himself instinctively wondering: Had Barbara come to punish me again?

"Old hag, get over here." Soldier Boy beckoned.

Barbara did not dare disobey. Her face was ashen, and the carnage in the laboratory made her want to scream.

"Homelander, you shouldn't have done this," Barbara said, forcing herself to speak.

"The lab staff were innocent. They were all afraid of you."

Before she could finish, a large hand appeared in front of her face.

Smack!

With a sharp crack, Barbara was slapped through the air and landed right beside Marty.

Under the combined assault of the horrifying corpse and the pain, Barbara finally lost control and screamed incessantly.

The corners of Homelander's mouth tried to curve into a smile several times, but he could not manage it.

"Listen, you old whore. You people raised my kid into this pussy." Soldier Boy stood over her.

Barbara clutched her face.

Homelander's expression shifted slightly. He could not speak.

He was completely captivated by the words "my kid."

"Get into the isolation room yourself. Now!" Soldier Boy barked.

Barbara went deathly pale. "No, that place is different."

Soldier Boy smiled. "You loved locking people in there, didn't you?"

"Get in now, or I'll throw you in."

Barbara shook her head and kept backing away across the floor, but Soldier Boy caught her anyway and hurled her into the isolation room.

Soldier Boy locked the door, ignoring Barbara as she frantically pounded on it and begged for mercy inside.

Homelander stood outside, watching quietly.

This was the first time he had stood outside the door while she stood inside.

This time, it was not Homelander who broke down, but Barbara.

The air vibrated. Fluctuations of some kind of energy made the laboratory hum.

Homelander saw a brilliant golden light flare on Soldier Boy's chest, and a devastating beam leveled the superhero development facility.

The scene looked as though a small nuclear bomb had hit it.

The bad room, the psychology room, the incinerator, and the pressure chamber were all obliterated.

Dozens of microexpressions flashed across Homelander's face in a single second.

What Soldier Boy had destroyed was not just the superhero development facility, but the prison of Homelander's childhood.

[Ding]

The Old Popsicle System popped up.

[Host detected to have completed the mission: make Homelander feel "protected" for the first time.]

[Mission reward: speed ability upgrade card (special) has been issued. Please check your inventory.]

Soldier Boy ignored the Old Popsicle System, immediately turning to Homelander instead. "Quit spacing out. Let's go."

The weakness that followed firing his chest blast returned.

The next step was to enter Vought.

Father and son walked out of the laboratory side by side, their clothes getting soaked.

A bolt of lightning tore across the sky. Tomorrow was destined to be an extraordinary day.

Meanwhile, at Vought International Tower.

The door to the top-floor CEO's office slowly closed, leaving only two people in the room.

Edgar and Madelyn.

The silence lasted for more than ten seconds. Neither spoke.

Finally, Edgar walked to the liquor cabinet, took out a bottle of privately made red wine, and poured himself a glass.

Madelyn frowned slightly. In all the years she had known Edgar, she had rarely seen him drink during working hours.

Edgar raised the glass and took a sip.

His movements remained elegant and composed, as though everything were under his control.

Yet Madelyn noticed the wine trembling slightly.

It was Edgar's hand holding the glass that was shaking, so faintly it was almost imperceptible.

It was the first time she had seen Edgar like this, and she could not help asking, "Are you afraid?"

Edgar was silent for a moment before saying slowly, "Homelander nearly killed me."

The office fell silent again.

"It's not death I fear." Edgar looked out the window. "It's something else."

Madelyn said nothing. She had already guessed the answer.

Edgar spoke slowly. "Homelander is starting to disobey. The product is slipping out of our control."

"Soldier Boy has resurfaced, and he and Homelander have acknowledged each other as father and son. With the two most powerful superhumans working together, nothing in the world can stop them."

"What should we do?" Madelyn asked.

Edgar turned back to her. "Keep them placated. Vought cannot lose Homelander."

"Give Soldier Boy the best possible treatment. I need time."

Madelyn nodded.

That was their only option. It seemed Edgar still had something up his sleeve.

Hopefully, Homelander would still be susceptible to control through her breast milk.

After Madelyn left the CEO's office with mixed feelings, Edgar took a white pill bottle from a drawer.

Inside was a specially formulated drug that lowered the heart rate. For several hours after taking it, his heart rate would barely fluctuate.

Edgar knew full well that, facing an enraged Homelander, even a slight quickening of his heartbeat could leave him without an intact corpse.

Edgar had been taking this drug since the day Homelander joined Vought.

The nighttime New York skyline lay beyond the window. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk.

Finally, he suddenly pulled open a drawer and took out a file that had gathered dust for a long time.

Its cover was yellowed, as though it had been kept for many years. Written on it were the words: V Plan.

For the first time, Edgar's gaze turned cold and sinister.