Invincible
9:45 am.
Washington, Capitol, Hearing Room 3.
Marble columns pierced the dome, and the air was filled with the stuffy smell of old men's mahogany chairs and hundreds of people crammed together.
The stage and the audience were packed with hearing committee members and military representatives, each with their own ulterior motives.
And hundreds of media reporters carrying heavy cameras and wielding long lenses and microphones.
Click, click
The flashbulbs were constantly going off, creating a dazzling display of light pollution.
Edgar sat in the center of the witness stand.
Today, he was wearing a dark gray custom-made suit, a tight tie, and his hair was styled extremely neatly with hair gel.
In front of him were two miniature chrome-plated microphones.
A glass of ice water that remained untouched throughout, and a forty-page document entitled "On the Emergency Supplement of the Superman Security and Defense Budget."
Edgar remained remarkably calm in the face of the motley crew below the stage.
Even though the reporters in the audience kept their cameras pointed at him, zooming in to the extreme.
His dark brown face remained completely expressionless; he didn't even blink.
Neuman sat to one side of the podium, wearing a dark blue women's suit, her long black hair neatly styled in a bun.
But beneath that heavy marble lectern, her hands were clasped tightly together, almost digging into her own flesh.
She didn't sleep a wink all night.
The moment she closes her eyes, Storm's disgusting yet feignedly gentle voice echoes in her mind without warning.
Each word was like a pair of tweezers, forcefully tearing at her nerves.
"Congressman Neuman?"
The vice chairman next to him lowered his voice and reminded him.
"The time has come. The live broadcast signal across the United States has been successfully connected. We can now announce the start."
Neuman took a deep breath and forcibly severed those suffocating memories from his mind.
She looked up, and within half a second, all her negative emotions vanished, replaced by the standard politician's demeanor.
"The special congressional hearing on the supplementary budget for Vought International Security & Defense is now in session."
Neuman picked up the mallet and struck it down hard.
"When!"
The crisp sound of the impact echoed through the empty hall, instantly silencing all the noise and leaving the scene completely quiet.
Edgar gave Neuman a barely perceptible nod, then reached out and adjusted the microphone in front of him before slowly speaking.
The sound was deep, steady, and carried an innate solemnity, transmitted in real time from the speakers to screens in millions of homes across America.
"Fellow members of Congress, fellow America, you have all witnessed what has happened in the past forty-eight hours..."
A high-risk experimental subject with devastating power escaped Vought's supervision and, in a short period of time, joined forces with a group of militants who had long been engaged in extreme sabotage activities.
This is an unprecedented provocation against United States. national security since the September 1st incident.
Edgar paused briefly, his gaze sweeping across the entire room.
" Vought International has established a joint response mechanism with the military and the Department of Homeland Security."
But to completely eliminate this hidden danger, we need deeper resource integration, as well as this five billion dollar dedicated defense budget...
But just as Edgar mentioned the number "five billion," a sudden change occurred.
"Buzz--"
The six LCD screens hanging on the left and right sides of the hearing room suddenly flickered violently at the same time.
The news signal, which was broadcasting a close-up shot of Edgar, was suddenly and abruptly cut off by a layer of glaring static.
Immediately afterwards, a high-pitched and strange electronic sound directly overwhelmed the sound system in the hearing room, exploding in everyone's ears.
"What's going on? Is the signal being jammed?!"
"Technician! Hurry up and check the wiring, stop messing around with your damn grease!"
Chaos erupted in the audience, and security personnel immediately pressed their earpieces and shouted loudly.
But it was all too late.
All television stations, online live streaming platforms, social media platforms, and even the giant electronic screen in Times Square.
In a single second, they were all forcibly hijacked by the underground signals of the Church of the Collective!
After the static and flickering, a video image that wasn't very clear suddenly appeared on the screen.
The footage was somewhat shaky, with a sea of clouds roaring tens of thousands of meters above the ground outside the cabin, accompanied by the desperate screams of countless passengers.
Homelander stood at the cabin door. Queen Maeve stood dejectedly to the side, trying to plead for something.
In the video, Homelander simply shook off Maeve's hand with extreme annoyance.
Then, in front of everyone, he carried her away and flew her off, leaving her suspended high in the sky...
The plane, carrying hundreds of innocent passengers, plunged straight into the sea!
"Gulp."
In the vast hearing room, someone swallowed hard.
The once noisy hall fell into a deathly silence.
Hundreds of reporters, members of parliament, and high-ranking military officials stared wide-eyed at the scene on the screen as Homelander flew away, their minds blank.
"My God... that's... Flight 37?!"
A reporter, trembling, broke the silence first.
But before everyone could recover from the nuclear-level shock, the video disappeared, and then an audio clip appeared.
Edgar's voice rang out clearly throughout the hall:
"First, create 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...
The audio playback has finished.
But the entire hearing room instantly erupted into chaos!
"Damn! That's obviously Edgar's voice!"
"What arrest warrant for the experimental subjects... he might have staged it all himself!"
" Vought has been playing us for a fool!"
At this moment, countless reporters rushed across the police cordon.
Hundreds of microphones and cameras rained down on Edgar in the witness stand like a pack of bloodthirsty jackals.
The councilors on the stage all stood up, slamming their fists on the table and hurling insults!
The situation spiraled out of control.
Edgar remained seated in the witness stand, his back ramrod straight.
But the instant the audio finished playing, his fingers, which were resting on the table, twitched very slightly.
For the first time, a deep, cold gloom flashed across those dark brown eyes.
He slowly turned his head and looked at Neuman on the podium.
Neuman was looking at him too.
His face was pale, filled with struggle, guilt, and a hint of ruthlessness that he himself was unaware of.
Neuman took a deep breath, then grabbed the mallet in front of him and slammed it down hard.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Silence! Silence throughout the entire venue!"
Neuman's voice resonated throughout the arena via microphone.
"In light of the significant evidence that has just emerged, this committee hereby announces an immediate suspension of approval for Vought's defense budget, pending verification of the authenticity of the video!"
Neuman stood up.
"At the same time, the Committee on Superhuman Affairs will join forces with the Department of Justice."
A full internal investigation has been launched against Edgar Stein and the Vought management team on charges of attempted murder, manipulating national security, and fraud.
The echo of the mallet striking the floor slowly dissipated high in the hall.
Edgar looked at Neuman on the platform with a deep gaze, his eyes revealing a hint of something unreadable.
Neuman, no wonder she's his adopted daughter...
Now it seems he's become a competent politician.
A storm of flashing lights exploded wildly, creating a blinding white light that clearly illuminated the wrinkles on his dark brown face.
He didn't touch the microphone in front of him, nor did he make any pointless explanations.
He simply lowered his head and calmly folded the forty-page budget document on the table.
He capped the pen, then buttoned the middle button of his suit jacket, and slowly stood up.
At this moment, the bodyguards standing on the stage quickly stepped forward and pushed through the surging crowd.
Amidst a barrage of flashing lights and shrill curses, Edgar smoothed his suit sleeves, turned around, and left all the noise and commotion behind.
Stepping on the cold marble slabs, I walked step by step into the dark shadows at the exit of the hearing room.
(I originally wanted to describe the film-like texture of "Darkest Hour", but my writing skills are limited.)
Meanwhile, the catastrophic scene of the hearing was being broadcast live over Manhattan from hundreds of miles away via satellite signal.
The top floor of the Vought Tower, New York.
An uninvited figure appeared in what was originally Edgar's CEO office.
Homelander was completely nestled in Edgar's high-backed leather executive chair, his legs crossed and propped up in the center of the heavy, tidy mahogany desk.
Outside the enormous circular glass windows, the Manhattan skyscrapers were edged with a cold gold in the sunlight.
On the entire wall directly opposite the desk, an 8K display screen was showing the hearing proceedings in rotation.
Edgar was surrounded by reporters and police, and left in a disheveled state with his head down.
Three years ago, the footage of him standing by and watching someone die on Flight 37, displaying cruelty and Coldblood, was shown in high-definition close-ups by major news channels and broadcast repeatedly to hundreds of millions of people across the United States.
"Hehe..."
In the past, seeing such a Smash scandal that could shatter his pedestal image would have made him lose control long ago.
He would use his Heat Vision to blast a hole in the entire expensive screen and the building, or send it flying, tearing everyone on the street who dared to protest to pieces.
But now, he was simply leaning back in his chair with extreme comfort.
Holding a thick glass in my hands, filled with freshly heated milk, with a thin layer of warm milk skin still clinging to the glass.
"Hmm~"
The Homelander brought the cup to his nose, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, a look of almost morbid infatuation appearing on his face.
Then he opened his mouth and took small sips of the warm, viscous liquid.
White milk foam covered his upper lip, but he didn't even move his hand.
He simply and slowly stuck out his tongue, licking the milk stains little by little along his lip line into his mouth.
" The Stormfront was right after all..."
The Homelander chuckled softly, gulped down a large mouthful of warm milk, his Adam's apple heaving violently beneath his taut neck.
His previous wariness of Edgar stemmed from his fear of the old man's control over public relations, media, and the rules.
But now, Edgar himself has Smash this set of hypocritical rules.
His reputation is ruined, he can barely protect himself, and he may even have to spend who knows how many years in prison.
Now... we'll never see that A-Train, domineering guy again.
marvelous.
"The old order has collapsed... Edgar, this place is mine now."
He then picked up the glass again, drank the remaining warm milk in one gulp, and casually threw the empty glass onto the marble floor, where it Smash.
"Next comes the age of God."
Inside the abandoned subway station site.
A worn-out 14-inch color TV hangs on a mottled brick wall, and a news anchor speaks in a trembling voice.
The news of Edgar's downfall and the circuit breaker in Vought's stock price was being replayed over and over again.
"Hahaha! That's awesome! That's fucking awesome!"
Butcher plopped heavily onto the old sofa, holding a half-empty bottle of cheap rum, and laughed loudly while pointing at Edgar on TV.
"That son of a bitch Edgar, he's been pretending to be a good guy for half his life, and today he's finally shown his true colors... Great job, we've given him a real punch."
"Damn, Butcher, your description is disgusting."
Frenchie leaned against the simple lab bench, shaking his head helplessly:
"Don't be too happy yet, Butcher. Edgar is gone, but it's not over yet."
"What's there to be afraid of!"
Butcher took a big gulp of rum.
"After his move, the whole of America is cursing Vought. What idiot would still believe that $500 million bounty poster?"
" John..."
Hughie turned his head and looked at John was leaning against the door frame.
"Now that Edgar has been dethroned, what do we do next?"
As soon as he said that, everyone's eyes immediately turned to John.
John was still wearing a black hoodie, his hands in his pockets.
" Edgar's downfall is just the beginning."
"Why?"
Starlight frowned and asked.
"In reality, Edgar was the chain that kept Vought, that vicious dog, in check."
John turned around and looked at the crowd.
"Although he's a scoundrel, he's at least a businessman who's willing to respect rules and interests."
With him around, the Homelander still had some reservations and dared not openly break off relations or overturn the table.
John, having been Homelander, was acutely aware of his own character.
"Now that we've broken those chains with our own hands, what we're facing next is Homelander completely out of control."
A brief silence fell over the base.
Hughie clenched his fists nervously, and Starlight put her arm around his shoulder.
At the end of the passage, Cate stood there quietly.
She didn't say anything, but simply looked up at John, her eyes filled with worry.
Everyone knew in their hearts that they had fought tooth and nail to get to this point, and the real battle was about to begin...
The curtain has finally been raised.
Will they win?
John turned his head, glanced at Cate, and pondered for a moment.
" The Church of the Collective has already sent us information about Vought's military equipment, so we can act ahead of time."
John pulled his hand out of his pocket.
"This time, let's go all out and give it our all!"
Meanwhile, in the underground parking garage of the Capitol.
Neuman, in her high heels, hurried down the corridor, opened the door of the van, and got in.
In the back seat of the carriage, Storm was sitting with her legs crossed, holding a half-eaten strawberry lollipop, looking at her with a half-smile.
Next to Storm, little girl Zoe was curled up asleep in her seat, breathing evenly, covered with a thin blanket.
" Zoe!"
The moment Neuman saw his daughter, a huge weight lifted from his heart, and he collapsed in despair, rushing over to hug the little girl tightly.
"Don't worry... I told you, as long as you behave, the child will be returned to you intact."
Storm bit the lollipop into pieces, threw the stem out the window, and a faint smile played on her lips.
"You performed well at today's hearing... Representative Neuman."
Neuman, holding his daughter, suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with extreme anger:
"Don't even think about asking me for anything again! You've done what you promised me, so screw you and get out of my life!"
Storm extended a finger and gently lifted Neuman's chin, a glint of electricity flashing in her eyes:
"Don't be so quick to discard those who helped you, Victoria."
Now that Edgar is gone, Vought needs a new leader, and Congress needs a new spokesperson.
Our collaboration... has only just begun.
As she spoke, Storm slowly leaned close to Neuman's ear and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Get ready, in a few days I'll take you to meet our new boss... Homelander."
Homelander?