Rain Love
(I updated some things at the end of Chapter 10, you can go and check it out.)
Abandoned subway station.
Inside the makeshift base, beside the iron table.
A temporary encrypted email address was displayed on the glowing computer screen.
In my inbox, there lay a new email all alone. The sender was a string of completely random characters, with no notes whatsoever.
John opened the email.
The email contained two large attachments:
The first one is a video file, marked with a date from three years ago.
The other is an audio file, tagged with a time even earlier than the previous one.
The email body was also extremely clean, consisting of only one short line of text:
"Here's the agreed-upon video content, and an old recording, consider it a gift from me... Use it as you see fit, Elena and I are leaving now."
John stared at the line of text for half a minute, then slightly turned the computer screen to face Frenchie, who was walking towards him:
"Come, take a look at this."
Frenchie pulled up a plastic chair, sat down, plugged the headphones into the computer, and opened the first video file.
The video took about three seconds to load, and the perspective was from a video recording taken by a witness using Apple phone.
It can be seen through the broken hatch.
Outside the cabin, a sea of clouds roared tens of thousands of meters above the ground, with red warning lights flashing wildly in the background.
Accompanied by a rapid decrease in engine power and a persistent humming sound.
Then, the camera shifts.
The cabin was already engulfed in despair and chaos.
The scene shifts.
Homelander stood at the cabin door, wearing his signature cape, one hand resting on the edge of the door frame, his blond hair flying wildly in the wind.
However, this is inconsistent with the imposing image he usually projects.
At this Homelander exuded a chilling indifference, his eyes bloodshot.
In the corridor behind him, Queen Maeve, dressed in battle armor and holding a longsword, had her face contorted with extreme unease and anxiety.
Although the video was shot from a very off-center angle and the content was very fragmented, everyone present understood it clearly.
That was the Flight 37 crash that shocked the world three years ago.
At that moment, the video clip on the computer quickly attracted Hughie, who had just finished adapting to his new abilities outdoors, and Starlight, who had been practicing with him.
"This is..."
In the video.
"Lift it up? How can I lift it up? There's nowhere to stand outside, just empty air."
The expression on the face of the Homelander was one of utter helplessness.
"Then fly out there and crash the plane back onto its original trajectory!"
"At that speed, I'll either crash into the plane and flip it over, or I'll just go right through it."
"Then you can send them to the ground one by one!"
As Maeve spoke, she pointed to the crying passengers behind her.
The Homelander looked at her coldly, as if she were a fool:
"One hundred and twenty-three deliveries? Our mission ends here!"
After speaking, he looked at the passengers surging forward behind him trying to call for help, his eyes flashing a bright, scarlet light again, his tone extremely forceful:
"All of you... get to the back! Or I'll kill you all one by one with my Cyclops!"
Upon hearing what the Homelander said, the passengers screamed in fright and scrambled backward.
Immediately afterwards, Homelander grabbed Maeve by the waist and swiftly flew out of the cabin.
The two then hovered tens of thousands of meters in the air, coldly watching the entire plane lose control.
Immediately afterwards, it plunged straight into the sea, eventually exploding in a violent burst of flames on the ocean.
"Grass!"
Frenchie spat his chewing gum on the ground and quickly rewound the progress bar to the beginning to watch it again.
"Fuck... Homelander was on that plane! He could have easily lifted it!"
John stared at the screen, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
Of course... he felt no regret or guilt about this, which is inconsistent with his public image.
He didn't even feel anything.
He was well aware of the situation at the time; it was while he was taking down the hijackers that his Heat Vision carelessly damaged the aircraft's control panel.
The control panel was destroyed, so he could only operate it manually, and he didn't know how to fly a plane at all.
Keep in mind that there were over a hundred people on board; he couldn't possibly save them all by himself.
He understood the reasoning Maeve was giving, but he didn't possess the ability of " Bioelectric Field " like he does now.
Therefore, he simply couldn't lift the plane with his bare hands; if he tried to lift it by force, he would only break the fuselage.
As for rescuing the passengers... let alone whether he has that kind of flight speed, he can't guarantee that he can save everyone.
If even one of the passengers were to reveal the truth, all the reputation and honor he had built would be reduced to ruins.
John's true inner turmoil and struggle stemmed from his dilemma regarding the release of the video.
John was once Homelander; no one knew him better than he did.
Once he releases the video, it's tantamount to personally pushing another "self" off its pedestal and utterly destroying it.
Although it's very hard for me to do it.
But John had no other choice but to save Old Joe and Martha...
Compared to the safety of Old Joe and Martha, the reputation of the other "self" is nothing.
"I can't lift it."
John said calmly.
"The control console was broken, and the captain was dead. Forcibly lifting the aircraft would only break it apart. He couldn't save more than a hundred people."
At this moment, Hughie leaned closer and spoke with some difficulty:
"Then... even saving a few children would be helpful!"
John glanced at Hughie and continued:
You don't understand the media, and you don't understand politicians.
"One hundred and twenty-three people— the Homelander simply can't save them all. If a few are missed, or if any problems arise, those maggots will magnify it infinitely."
Hughie stared thoughtfully at the screen, then suddenly raised his index finger.
"If this gets out, the media will definitely report it extensively... At that point, Edgar and Homelander will be finished."
"Hey buddy, don't rush, this is just the first one."
Frenchie took a breath and moved the mouse to click on the second audio file.
At the beginning, the audio only contained a low, white noise.
About five seconds later, Edgar's familiar voice came through:
"I have already prepared the cooperation framework with the Ministry of Department of Defense."
The legal department has reviewed the agreement template for the first batch of Superman to be stationed in the military repeatedly, and there are no loopholes.
The key issue is the congressional approval process. As long as no one publicly objects at the hearings, they won't dare to reject the proposal on a national security issue...
Then, a mature and hoarse voice spoke up:
" Edgar, you know the risks of this plan. If it gets out, those old fogies in Congress will tear you apart."
Edgar let out a cold laugh in the recording:
"Therefore, we need to start from the periphery, first creating a few uncontrollable ' Superman crimes' or 'terrorist attacks' to plunge the public into fear."
When the fear reaches its peak, we can then logically send in the Superman army.
By then, the arrow will already be on the bowstring, and if they try to object again, they will find that all their arguments have become invalid...
The recording abruptly stopped here.
A brief silence fell over the entire room.
Frenchie took off his headphones and wiped his face hard.
"That old bastard... it turns out he started planning the infiltration of Superman into the Department of Defense three years ago."
"What flight incident? I suspect it's all a setup! He just wants to create panic and force the Department of Defense to foot the bill."
In fact, this was the first time John had heard about this either.
Honestly, without this plan, he, as Homelander at the time, would still be paired with Maeve.
I also wouldn't get involved in all that disgusting mess that followed.
So... damn it, Edgar, you really deserve to die!
John stared grimly at the two documents on the screen, lost in thought.
"These two things must be shown to the entire United States."
But how do I send it?
Starlight gripped the edge of the table with both hands, her tone revealing anxiety.
" Vought International controls more than 80% of the mainstream media in the United States."
"TV news, social media platforms, newspapers—as soon as we upload it, Vought's technical department will cut off the signal within three seconds."
"What's more, we are currently fugitives wanted nationwide."
Frenchie nodded in agreement:
" Annie is right. Following conventional media channels is simply not feasible, and there's even a risk of exposure."
"Yeah... I don't even dare to call that media person I know now; I lost my last SIM card."
Just when everyone was at a loss, the Deep, who had been huddled in the corner playing with his water model on a plastic chair, suddenly cleared his throat and his eyes lit up:
"Um... I might have a connection."
At that moment, everyone turned to look at him.
The A-Train sat on the sofa, looking at him with a mocking expression.
"Come on, the Deep, besides dealing with people from your aquarium and the animal association, what reputable media outlets do you know?"
Upon hearing the A-Train's nonsense, the Deep immediately denied it:
"Hey bro, I'm serious! Do you remember when Vought was ignoring me?"
The A-Train had heard of this before, and his brow furrowed:
" Church of the Collective?"
"Right!"
The Deep slapped his thigh.
"On the surface, they are a religious charity, but in reality, they own the largest independent media network in the United States!"
They have their own satellite TV station, underground live streaming channels, and an algorithm matrix that is not under Vought's control.
Ever since their failed collaboration with Vought, they've been at odds with Vought and would absolutely love to kick him when he's down!
The Deep walked to the table, looking at John with a smug expression:
"Speaking of which, I know their high-ranking deacon, named Carol."
She's the one who brought me into the church in the first place. If we give her these two documents, they'll do anything to get rid of them!
"Call them and tell them the information is available, but it must be revealed simultaneously during the United States live broadcast of the hearing tomorrow!"
"Okay! I'll call right now!"
Seeing another opportunity to make a contribution, the Deep immediately took out his phone, walked into the shadows, and dialed a number.
A few minutes later, the Deep returned with a beaming smile:
" Carol agreed, and they were even willing to give us additional information on Vought's military movements."
However, they demanded to inspect the original USB drive in person, and there was another condition...
They needed to be assured that Vought's retaliation wouldn't come back to haunt them.
Upon hearing this, Frenchie frowned:
"So... they want us to be their slaves? To protect them?"
"Yes, they only need to ensure safety for one week."
"Can."
John spoke calmly and made his decision directly.
"We are now a key target of Vought's surveillance. If anyone's location is exposed, the consequences will be unimaginable."
As he spoke, he looked towards the Deep:
"The land is full of Vought's informants, but on the water, that's your territory. You'll be the one to take over from them."
Then, Frenchie copied the video and audio onto a secure USB drive and passed it to the Deep through John:
"Remember, the hearing will be broadcast live tomorrow at 10 PM. We'll be there to drop a bombshell on Vought."
Late at night, on a remote, abandoned seaside pier in the suburbs of Brooklyn.
The rain poured down, and the gale-force winds whipped up the icy seawater, pounding against the rusty iron frame and floating planks.
Several black, bulletproof vans were parked quietly at the edge of the dock, their headlights casting long beams of light through the dense lines of rain.
Carol stood under a huge black umbrella, wearing a well-tailored dark trench coat.
Even in the midst of Stormfront, she maintained her elegant and proud demeanor.
Behind her stood four burly bodyguards with deep-set eyes.
The four individuals exuded a subtle yet intense sense of oppression, clearly indicating that they were Superman henchmen secretly trained and bribed by the Church of the Collective.
Just then, a huge wave suddenly surged up on the calm yet turbulent sea.
"Splash!"
Immediately afterwards, an enormous female killer whale suddenly leaped out of the dark sea, creating waves several meters high.
(Female, savor it.)
From a distance, a figure wearing a black rain hoodie stands on the broad back of an orca.
The Deep pulled down his hood, stepped onto the orca's back, and leaped forward with the waves.
The next second, the soles of their shoes slammed heavily onto the wet, rusty dock planks.
"Holy shit!"
His cool demeanor lasted only three seconds.
The Deep was posing in a classic superhero landing pose when he slipped and almost slid off his feet.
Fortunately, there was an iron pillar nearby, the Deep quickly grabbed it with one hand, barely regaining his balance.
Carol watched this scene quietly from a short distance away, a slight amusement playing on her lips.
"Look who this is... Isn't this our great ' Lord of the Seven Seas '?"
Carol took two steps forward in her red high heels.
How did he become a wanted person?
That's a bounty of five hundred million US dollars... for a Superman who enjoys discussing human origins with octopuses.
This price tag already represents the peak of your career.
"Damn it! That's slander!"
The Deep blushed and almost jumped up in anger:
"I broke up with her a long time ago... and I'm here to have a serious talk with you!"
As he said this, he straightened his back, and his eyes changed from wise to serious.
" Carol, don't think I don't know what your Church of the Collective is thinking."
You actively recruited me into the church, claiming you wanted to help me clear my name and find myself again.
"Isn't your real intention to use my status as a member of the Seven to enhance the prestige of your church?"
"You only care about the interests and expansion of the Church of the Collective. Now I have the biggest dirt on Vought."
If this information is leaked, Vought's credibility and stock price will completely collapse, creating a huge vacuum in public opinion and belief across the United States.
"By then, will the market value and influence of your Church of the Collective increase several times? Ten times? Or even a hundred times?"
Upon hearing this, Carol's eyes narrowed slightly, and her previously mocking smile faded somewhat.
She glanced at the Deep a couple more times, somewhat unexpectedly.
After all, in her mind, the Deep had always been a dull, insecure, and easily manipulated fool, and she never expected him to say something like that today.
(Actually, it was Butcher and Frenchie who taught him step by step.)
However, as a trader and cult leader, Carol wouldn't be easily convinced by the Deep's empty talk.
In her line of work, the most important thing is profit.
Transparent benefits.
She gracefully smoothed her wind-blown hair, crossed her arms in front of her breasts, and smiled faintly:
"Good analysis, the Deep. It seems that leaving your old employer, Vought, has definitely made your fish brain clearer."
Carol slowly walked to a spot only three meters from the Deep.
"But... you seem to have misunderstood something, given how well you understand our operating model."
It should also be understood that this document is something our church is determined to obtain.
Carol smiled as she looked into the Deep, a barely perceptible ruthlessness flashing in her eyes:
"Now that you've delivered the goods to me, why should I agree to your conditions?"
I could easily steal the USB drive and then hand you over to Vought to collect that five hundred million dollars.
"That way, we'll make more money, won't we?"
The atmosphere was incredibly tense at that moment, and the sound of the torrential rain hitting the dock seemed to freeze.
Based on the Deep's previous personality, when faced with such oppressive danger, he would either bow down and apologize or back down and run away.
But this time, the Deep, unusually, didn't move, instead muttering to itself.
"Damn it, everyone thinks I'm easy to bully..."
The next second, his eyes suddenly turned gloomy.
" Carol, have you forgotten where you are?"
The Deep suddenly raised his right hand and clenched it tightly towards the pitch-black nearshore waters behind him!
"Boom!!"
In an instant, the entire nearshore waters behind the Deep began to shake.
Immediately afterwards, strands of water gradually intertwined from the sea and then coalesced into a huge water sphere.
Soon after, the water sphere was suspended in the air less than ten meters from the dock, blocking out all the lights and shadows.
At that moment, Carol and her four bodyguards hadn't even had time to look away in shock.
"Bong!!!"
The seawater, suspended in mid-air, was compressed to an extreme degree by the Deep and then exploded completely!
The suspended water instantly transformed into high-explosive bombs, violently bursting out in all directions!
The roaring water bombs slammed into the ground and the bulletproof van, creating a series of muffled thuds.
Some vulnerable parts of the vehicle were directly impacted by the water bullets, and some were even dented inwards.
The violent water vapor and impact of the water sphere rushed towards us for half a second before continuing straight at us.
The large black umbrella in Carol's hand was blown away and snapped in two.
The splashing water soaked her elegant trench coat completely, leaving her drenched to the bone.
The four Superman bodyguards, who had initially appeared menacing, instinctively moved to protect Carol, summoning shields to block the remaining water bullets.
Carol's high heels wobbled violently in the puddle, and she only regained her balance after being helped by a bodyguard.
Not far away, the Deep slowly emerged from the overwhelming rain and mist, wiping away the tears from the corners of his eyes.
"Can we trade now?"
Carol took a deep breath; the icy seawater soaked her hair, revealing her lace-trimmed dress underneath, making her look particularly disheveled.
But she quickly regained her composure, and the panic on her face vanished in an instant.
"Fantastic... Absolutely fantastic, the Deep."
Carol wiped the rain off her face and slowly pushed aside the trembling bodyguard blocking her way.
Even in the rain, she maintained her composed demeanor.
She never expected that the Deep, which she hadn't seen for so long, would have an additional "water control" ability that was never recorded in the archives.
You say the Deep is hiding its secrets?
Given his flamboyant personality, he's absolutely incapable of hiding it.
Therefore, Carol became even more certain of a certain guess in her mind.
"It seems I did underestimate you... or rather, all of you."
Carol straightened her damp collar and continued:
"Your conditions will be accepted by the Church of the Collective in their entirety."
Tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM, the moment the congressional hearing begins live, we will simultaneously release breaking news across the United States through all of the church's independent channels and social media networks.
The Deep raised an eyebrow.
Seeing that the other party was so sensible, he felt like he had nowhere to retaliate in his attempt to show off.
So he took out the specially made USB drive, which was triple-encrypted and wrapped in a waterproof bag, from his pocket and casually tossed it over.
The USB drive traced a parabola before Carol raised her hand and caught it steadily.
"It's a pleasure doing business with you."
OK.
The Deep arrogantly pulled his hood up again, covering half his face, then turned and walked towards the edge of the dock.
He leaped into the churning, dark waves.
Snap!
Water splashed up, and the enormous orca swiftly caught the Deep, carrying him away in a rapid disappearance from the spot.
On the dock, Carol stood alone amidst the Stormfront, watching the direction the Deep had gone, then glancing at the USB drive in her hand.
A meaningful, cold smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Pack your things and prepare to evacuate.
She turned around and coldly ordered her bodyguards:
"Tomorrow at 10 AM, we're going to present the most spectacular 'gift' to all of United States."