"PYT (Pretty Young Thing)"
( John will appear in the next chapter)
Madison Square Garden, under the dome.
" Neuman! Neuman!"
The fervent slogans surged like a tidal wave, the sound waves crashing against the steel structure and amplifying outwards through various media with unparalleled power.
Victoria Neuman stood in the center of the podium, her slender figure accentuated by her dark blue suit skirt.
Her breasts were full and particularly eye-catching, and a simple America flag brooch was pinned to her collar.
Her campaign routine was very simple, without any extravagant decorations, and even her security personnel were just federal agents in ordinary uniforms.
This is the persona that Neuman deliberately created for the campaign after consulting with the public relations department:
A simple, clean-cut, and good councilor who petitions for the people.
Below the stage, a dense crowd held up signs with large, crooked characters painted in red.
"End Superman privilege!!" "Seek justice for the victims!" " Neuman = the future of ordinary people!"
In the front row, several extras whom Vought had hired at great expense began to showcase their acting skills.
The woman's eyes were red-rimmed, and she clutched a photo of the deceased in her hand.
The deaths in the photos were mostly due to Superman negligence or some kind of "accident."
"Everyone..."
Neuman's gaze swept over the photos, and his voice carried throughout the venue through the microphone on the podium.
Calm, powerful, and tinged with just the right amount of grief:
Three years ago, in a supermarket in Ohio, a seven-year-old girl stood in front of the shelf choosing candy.
Then, a Superman suddenly crashed in from the ceiling.
He came to catch the robbers, and he successfully accomplished his 'heroic deed,' but the girl never returned home."
At this moment, the extras in the audience began to sob in unison, which brought tears to the eyes of the audience in the back rows.
" Vought International said it was a necessary sacrifice, because the superheroes were protecting more people."
Neuman's voice suddenly rose, and he slammed his right hand heavily on the podium.
"But I want to ask... why? Why should ordinary people have to pay for their actions?"
Why is it that they get billions in endorsement fees, yet when they cause trouble, they have PR teams to clean up their messes, while we ordinary citizens don't even deserve an apology?
Below the stage, a chorus of curses erupted instantly, a fierce outcry mixed with countless warm greetings from the crowd.
Backstage, the public relations department staff in charge of the cameras were working non-stop, switching the live broadcast to various television stations.
This allowed millions of people across the United States to watch the live broadcast.
In the center of the podium, Neuman stood under the spotlight, his face bearing a resolute and indignant expression.
But no one knew that her left hand, hanging by her side, was casually tapping the seam of her trousers with her fingertips.
The code that Neuman coordinated with headquarters this morning, once pressed, indicates that the project at headquarters needs to begin synchronization.
Meanwhile, in the top-floor conference room at Vought's headquarters, a huge projection screen was simultaneously broadcasting the campaign rally.
Ashley stood beside the screen, staring at the real-time data panel, speaking rapidly:
" Neuman's approval rating has now risen by two points! The topics of #civilrights# and # Superman # have topped the social media charts."
On Xiaolanbird, the number of negative comments about us on our official Weibo account tripled.
As planned, our official account will issue a statement within ten minutes condemning her actions of inciting hatred and exploiting victims.
At the head of the long table, Edgar rested his fingertips on the leather armrest, his face expressionless.
He watched Neuman's impassioned speech on the screen, a very faint smile playing on his lips:
"Good."
"After all, you were the one who promoted him."
The PR director standing next to him chimed in, then quickly lowered his head.
"Mr. Edgar, Storm's side is ready, and we've also set up the venue for the press conference."
The official retirement announcement for Black Noir Se has been reviewed and is ready to be released at any time.
"Let her finish speaking."
Edgar nodded slightly, his gaze falling on Neuman's face on the screen.
This grand spectacle is part of a larger scheme to mislead the public and lead them into a vortex of manipulation.
Neuman played the bad cop, using the banner of Superman to win public support and create the image of a strong woman who "dared to challenge Vought ".
Vought played the bad cop, launching a furious counterattack before gradually backing down, ultimately helping Neuman secure the top position.
Then, the internally drafted " Superhuman Regulation Act " was promulgated and passed by the brainwashed voters.
This gave official agencies the power to "mandatorily control" over Superman.
On the surface, it appears that the people won the war, while the Vought suffered a setback.
In reality, the bill will only completely shut down the legitimacy of all Superman who are not on record.
This means that any name not on the Superman oversight list will be classified as "illegal".
Then a nationwide manhunt was launched, and the latter became embroiled in an endless pursuit and killing by the authorities.
So where did those names on the list come from?
This only requires Vought to join forces with Congress and exercise a small act of "whimsy" with his power.
To legitimately send all of Vought's Superman into the military and law enforcement system.
At this point, Vought officially secured a long-term contract with the federal government, achieving an unprecedented win-win situation and huge profits.
Storm is the most crucial piece in this game, a key piece responsible for stirring up trouble.
" Black Noir have no commercial value now."
Edgar's voice was unusually calm.
"A mute person who can't speak, can't do marketing, and can't make movies has no commercial value other than doing dirty work."
"This is a perfect opportunity to let him 'retire honorably' and conduct a major internal reshuffle."
"I'm sure you're all wondering why I chose a completely unknown newcomer to come on stage?"
(For everyone, Liberty is long dead; Storm is just a "newcomer" introduced after Edgar's reskin, hence this statement.)
"Because, after testing, Storm's ability to control public opinion is the best among all the candidates."
"She's familiar with social media and knows how to stir up emotions."
This approach can both win over female voters and serve as the perfect scapegoat for Neuman, thus boosting his popularity on both sides.
Ultimately, all the traffic will be attributed to us.
After explaining the situation, Edgar glanced at his watch and then gave the order:
"It's almost time. Switch the press conference signal and bring out Storm."
Remember, we need to maximize the buzz, get the whole of United States talking about this right now, overshadow Neuman's speech, and create a balance of power, understand?
"Understood, Mr. Edgar."
Meanwhile, on the other side of Manhattan.
In a luxury penthouse apartment.
The blackout curtains were drawn tightly shut, leaving only a small gap.
Suddenly, a thin ray of Tyndall effect sunlight pierced through the gap and fell on the wine-stained wool blanket.
This is the accommodation that Vought arranged for the Soldier Boy.
Although it's called a residence, it's practically like a prison with surveillance from every angle.
The entire floor here has been booked.
The elevators require access control to go up and down, security guards stand in the hallways and rotate every three hours, and even the windows are made of specially made explosion-proof glass.
But Vought couldn't go too far; they promised the Soldier Boy they would try their best to accommodate his wishes.
Therefore, all the furniture in the apartment was replaced by the Soldier Boy with top-of-the-line products available on the market.
Italy leather sofas, writing desks... and plenty of Scotch whisky.
The Soldier Boy even had a vintage jukebox bought for him, playing jazz from his era 24/7.
It has everything you could want.
Corner of the apartment.
The Soldier Boy was sprawled on the sofa, three buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his muscular build.
His hair was always unkempt and messy, and his stubble was uneven.
Clutching a small silver wine flask in one hand, and holding a small blue pill between the fingertips of the other, he examined it closely against the light.
This is the strongest, most potent "medicine" Vought prescribed for him.
Eating it will make you feel warm all over, clear your mind, and all your fatigue will disappear.
Instead, there was a light, exhilarating feeling, like walking on clouds, exceptionally light.
The side effects are also obvious; after taking the pills, one may experience mental confusion and be unable to maintain a clear mind.
But nowadays, the Soldier Boy have nothing to do.
After avenging his great grudge, his obsession subsided considerably. Now, he only wanted to clear his mind and wait to reclaim all his honors.
"Heh, a bunch of worthless bastards, I'm still the ultimate winner."
The Soldier Boy chuckled, tossed the pill into his mouth, and swallowed it with the whiskey in the jug.
The strong liquor burned down his throat like fire. He comfortably squinted his eyes, leaned back on the sofa, and let the effects of the drug slowly seep into his brain.
Just then, he felt a sudden, inexplicable irritation.
"Oh shit."
The Soldier Boy cursed under his breath, grabbed the remote control from the coffee table, and casually turned on the TV.
It's worth mentioning that when Vought's installer asked him what kind of TV he needed... an LCD or some other type...
He initially thought it was just a silly story the other person had made up on the spot.
Fortunately, after enjoying a large-scale AAA film projected onto a screen—a supernatural action-romance movie starring a famous actress from the neighboring island nation—he was able to watch it live.
I completely fell in love with this modern form of entertainment.
Whenever something happens, I turn on the TV to check it out.
(As for why he can't play on his phone... the old man seems only interested in big things, so let's be understanding.)
Before my eyes, a huge LCD screen lit up, which was the news broadcasting station, and a thunderous applause erupted from it.
On the screen, Neuman is standing on a stage, waving his fist and shouting slogans.
"When did Latin America sluts get to power?"
The Soldier Boy looked at the uniform tightly wrapped around Neuman's body on the stage, raised an eyebrow, and scoffed disdainfully.
It's the same old story again.
He'd seen plenty of these politicians; one pops up every few years.
Then he cursed Vought a few times, pretending to be an ordinary person standing up for their rights.
Once they're selected, they'll be the first to fawn over everyone else.
Vought was happy to play along, making a few feigned protests, but privately, as long as enough money was bribed, any bill could pass.
"And 'end Superman privilege'."
The Soldier Boy imitated Neuman's tone, saying something in a strange voice, and then burst into laughter.
"Privilege? Back when I was being bombed on the Normandy beaches, my privilege was getting an extra can of beef."
These disgusting bastards can earn hundreds of millions just by shooting an ad, and they call that privilege? It's like dog food handed out by Vought.
As the drug's effects intensified, his vision began to blur.
Double images appeared on the screen, and the sound was muffled and indistinct, as if muffled by a layer of water.
He was too lazy to change the channel, so he just listened half-asleep, taking a swig of his drink.
Half-drunk, he recalled that half a week ago, on the same channel, Vought's official announcement had been broadcast.
They say the Seven has welcomed a new member, called the " Sister Sage," whose motto is "wisdom and strength coexist," emphasizing diversity and inclusivity.
He had assumed it was the iconic blonde hair and blue eyes, even though it didn't fit his old-fashioned aesthetic.
But when he saw what the woman looked like, he almost spat out the whiskey in his mouth.
What does it mean to have both brains and strength?
He looks like a chimpanzee in a zoo, mating with a dog, with hyperthyroid eyes, protruding brow bones, and lips so thick they could fit a hundred Dick.
Back in the day, no farmer would have been willing to sell this on a plantation. Even the pigs wouldn't eat it.
How badly has the vast America been ruined?
Back in the day, the Payback Squad he led, although its members weren't exactly good people, were all formidable fighters.
In contrast, what about the current the Seven?
One looked like a crazy person who lacked love, and the other was mute.
Two idiots who like to wear red and blue male escort outfits, squeezing half of Dick out, the rest are all just pretty faces, and now they've added a gorilla.
That's a fucking joke.
"In a few days, will they be stuffing in lame people, homosexuals, and transgender people?"
The Soldier Boy muttered something and gave a sly laugh.
"To collect all the grand slams just to take care of those penniless losers who are about to die out... Vought really knows how to do business."
Then, at that moment, the live broadcast on TV suddenly stopped.
The camera cut back to the news studio.
In the studio, the female anchor said with a serious expression:
"Breaking news! Vought International has just held an emergency press conference to announce major personnel changes within its the Seven."
This station is broadcasting live; let's take a look at the scene together.
"I knew it, here it comes again. I'll see what it is this time."
The Soldier Boy became interested, changed his position, leaned back on the sofa, and waited to see what new trick Vought would pull this time.
The camera then cuts to the press conference at the Vought Tower.
A spotlight shone on the center of the stage, where a large audience of reporters, fully equipped, pointed their various cameras and microphones at the center of the stage.
Ashley, dressed in a business suit, stood in front of the microphone, her face showing a serious and sorrowful expression.
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!
Around the stage, Ashley's voice came through the speakers, slightly choked with emotion.
"Today, with mixed feelings, we announce some news."
Black Noir, a member of the Seven, has officially retired from the Seven due to a series of reasons, including personal health issues.
As soon as he finished speaking, the reporters in the audience erupted in a flurry of questions, raising their hands one after another.
On the screen, the Soldier Boy raised an eyebrow, picked up the flask, and took a big gulp.
(He assumed Vought was doing it out of consideration for him.)
Black Noir?
"Finally gone... Edgar certainly knows how to play the game."
Seeing this, the Soldier Boy thought the press conference was almost over, just another round of praising Black Noir's great achievements and selling nostalgia.
Unexpectedly, Ashley raised her hand to quiet the room before continuing:
"At the same time, after careful consideration by the senior management of Vought International, we have decided to invite a brand new superhero to join the Seven and take over the position of Black Noir."
The Soldier Boy curled his lip.
He knew it.
He was even prepared to see a second " Sage," who might be of India descent or some kind of disabled teenager.
"She is one of the best among the new Superman, possessing powerful lightning manipulation abilities and a social media influence with millions of followers."
She is independent, strong, and fearless; she represents the power of women in the new era!
On the screen, Ashley's voice grew louder and louder, her tone becoming increasingly agitated.
"Let's welcome -- Stormfront!"
The stage lights dimmed instantly, and all the spotlights were focused on the entrance on the side of the stage.
The background music started playing, accompanied by energetic drumbeats, and a slightly short figure gradually emerged from the shadows.
Then he walked step by step to the center of the stage.
The dark red and purple tight-fitting uniform outlined her sleek figure and gleamed coldly under the lights.
She has a very distinctive short, side-shaved hairstyle, with the hair on the right side shaved extremely short, revealing only a few stubble hairs on her scalp.
Her black hair on the right side hung down, barely covering her brow bone.
The Soldier Boy was stunned for a moment, then gave a disdainful laugh.
" Stormfront?"
He scoffed at the television.
"Why not call it Weather Forecast? Is Vought so careless with naming things these days?"
He casually glanced at the woman on the screen.
He's white?
She's alright looking; although her figure is out of shape, she still looks good, at least much more pleasing to the eye than that plantation gorilla.
It seems that after being criticized for a few days, Vought has changed her approach again, abandoning racial diversity and instead cultivating a persona of female independence.
"It's just the same old thing in a new bottle."
He pursed his lips, picked up the wine jug, and prepared to take another sip.
"They're all just pretty faces, all looks and no substance. If they actually went to war, they'd be the first to cry for their parents..."
Just then, his words suddenly caught in his throat.
Because the television broadcast gave the Stormfront a super close-up.
She stood in front of the microphone, slightly raised her chin, and looked directly at the camera.
Light gray pupils, with slightly upturned corners.
A hint of mockery and a touch of nonchalant arrogance lingered in his eyes.
Seeing this, the Soldier Boy's hand froze in mid-air.
The spout of the flask pressed against his lips, and a bit of whiskey spilled out, running down his chin and into his collar, but he didn't feel it at all.
His eyes were fixed on the screen, fixed on those eyes.
The dazed feeling brought on by the drug dissipated almost instantly, and it felt like a thunderclap had exploded in my head, followed by a buzzing sound.
Those memories that had been suppressed by medication surged up like a flood breaking through a dam.
This face is so young and delicate; he's never seen this short hair before.
But those eyes...
He recognized those eyes.
It's been decades.
He's been talking about her constantly these past few days... there's no mistake.
But why is she here, at Vought's newcomer conference?
Edgar...
A flash of violence crossed the Soldier Boy's eyes as he looked at the figure on the screen.