The Phoenix
(The song in each chapter is fitting for the occasion; this chapter is highly recommended.)
(I felt my writing wasn't bad, but it ended up like this, with the bookstore only giving me less than 50 bytes of data.)
(This is purely out of love for the project; I hope you can all support me, thank you!)
John leaned against the broken pillar behind him, his hands in his pockets.
Deep in his mind, the video clips he had come across while browsing the "fourth wall" resurfaced from his memory.
That was a video titled "The Concept of the Boys God: From Popularity to Desperation".
John didn't know the specific meanings of " Antony " and "Hang" that kept appearing in the comments.
But he could make a rough guess...
It extends from T3 to T0, and a six-dimensional analysis diagram is also displayed next to it.
Logically, it should be from pulling to tamping.
And layer T3 is the most damn abstract one John thinks it is.
Let's put aside the "Guncy" Translucent who achieves absolute backdoor defense.
There are also characters like the indiscriminate "Green-haired Turtle Butcher," the " A-Train with Canes," and "Blind Neuman."
What the hell is this if not trash?
When John saw these humanoid conceptual forms, his mouth twitched incessantly.
On the contrary, at the T2 level, several seemingly good concepts emerged.
For example, titles like " Neuman with the Telescope," " The Mindstorm with X-Ray Vision," and " Hughie Goes Home."
He knew about Neuman's ability: he could control the blood flow to the brain and deliver a headshot by looking at the person.
With the addition of an astronomical telescope, the field of view can be expanded to its maximum, theoretically allowing you to see and kill anyone.
Hmm... the analysis does seem quite logical.
Mindstorm also possesses a similar ability to perceive, using the gaze of others to exert mental control.
With X-Ray Vision, even if you close your eyes, it's useless.
Forced love continues.
But so far, one of them is missing and the other is on the opposing side, John has no intention of considering them at all.
As for the "Go home Hughie " option...
This refers to using teleportation to wear down the opponent; if you can't win, you run back home, eat and drink your fill, and then return to fight, essentially creating an infinite loop.
However, this concept is quite useless in large-scale battles, as no one would be foolish enough to fight alone.
If a group of Superman swarmed him, with Hughie's small frame, it would be difficult for him to survive.
However, at the T1 level, the intensity is significantly higher.
The first few included " Maeve with Goggles" and " Ryan, who lost her mother".
In memory of him, some netizens even created a special "V1 No Side Effects Homelander " campaign.
The red layer in the 6D graph is off the charts.
Despite being touched, John was particularly annoyed by Maeve's eye-gouging joke.
You should know that back then, I actually gouged out one of Maeve's eyes.
Although my eardrum was pierced by a steel bar...
But these netizens, who love a good spectacle, compared Maeve's appearance with the goggles to his actual combat strength.
No... when did I become so weak?
Do you know why Maeve is wary of him?
Do you know why Maeve doesn't dare to disobey him?
Netizens are keeping quiet about it, which is very disappointing!
(Actually, I sometimes wonder if Madelyn's milk is poisonous.)
Later on, the level of fantasy became even higher.
There were even a few outrageous concepts that John found utterly incomprehensible and utterly offensive.
So, are these troublemaking netizens deliberately fabricating stories about him?
What does it mean to "raise Soldier Boy, wean him, and then pull a man from the sky to become Homelander "?
ah?
Based on that Soldier Boy's high-flying, drug-addicted European-style face, and his only love for his biological father from Puxi?
Come on, he's not even worthy to carry Old Joe's shoes.
Even when he was Homelander, he always sat upright, never smoked or drank, and was a model young man.
If we really raise the Soldier Boy, even if he becomes less irritable, are we sure he won't turn into a drug addict?
What?
This is the third time John has shown a constipated expression since the Soldier Boy's thunderous speech upon waking up.
As for what comes after that...
These jokes may sound absurd, but they have unexpectedly provided some inspiration in this life-or-death situation.
John snapped out of his reverie and glanced at everyone in the hall.
The A-Train leaned against the corner of the wall, arms crossed, and said:
"As long as I run fast enough, those drugged Superman can't stop me, or I can disarm them all."
"Come on, A-Train..."
The Deep popped half its wet head out of the bathtub, tilted its head, and teased:
"Besides speeding along with your backside sticking out, smashing any 'innocent obstacles' in the road to pieces, what other new tricks do you have up your sleeve?"
Do you really think Vought and his gang are stupid? That they wouldn't be wary of someone like you who can last three seconds?
Upon hearing the word "innocent," A-Train's heart skipped a beat, and then he glared fiercely at the Deep.
This idiot who keeps digging up dirt...
Although he was joking, the Deep was clearly referring to the mess he made when he sped and killed Hughie's girlfriend.
Is this something I can say right now?
After being messed up by the Deep, the A-Train completely lost its desire to choke.
His first reaction was to lift his eyelids and quickly glance at Hughie sitting not far away.
At this moment, Hughie and Starlight were sitting together in the corner, rubbing paper cups with their hands. When they heard this, they simply turned their faces away without saying a word.
Seeing that Hughie did not react excessively, A-Train's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, slowly settled back into his stomach.
He secretly wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and awkwardly touched his nose.
"Can you shut your filthy mouth, Kevin... you freak who only knows how to eat grass carp, if you've got the guts, roll out of that bathtub and run a few steps on the ground!"
"Ouch, you're angry... That won't do. I'm injured right now, I need to soak in a bath to nourish my kidneys."
The Deep chuckled triumphantly, spitting out a Barry of soda and using his water manipulation technique to condense it into a large "FUCK" on his hand.
"Alright, you two."
John tapped his fingertip lightly on the edge of the table and continued.
"Besides Frenchie, there's Butcher, you guys are all fucking Superman."
John looked around and his gaze settled on Hughie.
Even Hughie, that weakling who's like a sissy, has somehow gotten a new ability.
But have you ever seriously considered... how you should develop your superpowers?
Upon hearing this, the members of the Boys Squad exchanged bewildered glances.
"Development?"
Hughie shrank back, looking somewhat flustered.
"Isn't ability... something you're born with? Like breathing, that innate feeling."
"Superficial! Why don't you just say that your liking for masturbation is something you were born with?"
John snorted and leaned forward slightly, his shadow covering half the table.
"There are actually many completely different directions for developing superpowers."
Take a speed-type engine like A-Train as an example; if we target the physiological weaknesses of certain specific targets...
He can throw hundreds of punches at the same spot in a second.
Alternatively, you could drag the enemy directly into a high-temperature industrial incinerator several kilometers away and let them experience a cremation-themed party.
"Even..."
At this point, John paused, his expression turning strange:
"Of course, if you think that going head-to-head is too physically demanding, there's a very special fighting style... I call it the ' Food-Snatching Style '."
"Ah?"
Upon hearing this abstract term, everyone was taken aback:
"Rob... what?"
"Grabbing food."
John solemnly held up two fingers and drew a circle in the air.
As the name suggests, A-Train can utilize its speed advantage without needing to make physical contact with its target.
Just when the opponent is starving to the point of turning into a dried-up corpse, it only takes a second.
They snatched all the dry food, water bottle, and even the energy bar from his mouth.
At this rate, even the strongest Superman will eventually be ground to death by the A-Train.
At that moment, Frenchie, who was drinking water with his head tilted back, heard the words " Food-Snatching Style ".
The image that instantly flashed into my mind was of A-Train in a tight-fitting uniform, scrambling for food all over the White House.
The scene is too beautiful... Are you sure this isn't some beggar dressed in cosplay running around stealing food?
"Pfft--cough cough cough!!"
Frenchie couldn't hold it in any longer and spat out a mouthful of water!
Transparent water droplets splashed under the dim light, hitting Hughie precisely as he stood in front of the Starlight.
Even the White House floor plan that had just been laid out on the table was soaked.
Frenchie choked on the water and coughed violently, with snot and tears streaming down his face.
He pounded his chest and laughed loudly, pointing at the A-Train:
"Putain! That's hilarious... John, what the hell are you thinking about?!"
Hughie wiped the water from his face, his hands covered in warm foam, and looked miserable.
"Damn it, Frenchie! You sprayed me all over! And this water is from when you were chewing gum!"
"That was hilarious, I couldn't help it... Please understand."
"Ha ha ha ha!"
The Deep was laughing so hard in the bathtub that he was doubled over, and ice cubes spilled all over the floor.
"Grab food! That's great! A-Train, I think you shouldn't be called that anymore."
"Why don't you switch careers and sell food? I've even thought of a nickname for you: ' Cheesehead,' to eat with rice."
"Sure, the Deep, tell me what you want to eat next time, and I'd be happy to try it on you."
The A-Train glanced at the Deep; though it couldn't hold back its own tension, its fists clenched behind its back.
At this moment, John's actions instantly enlivened the previously oppressive atmosphere in the hall.
Even Kimiko, who was usually expressionless, couldn't help but turn her head away, her lips twitching upwards in a frenzy.
"Alright, let's be serious."
John tapped the table.
"Since you think fighting for food is shameful, I have a more Western-style approach to it."
Use your speed to inject the virus into the Superman army that has been injected with V2.
Based on her memories from her previous life, she had once guided Soldier Boy to "test poison."
However, the Soldier Boy received the V1 injection only briefly entered a state of suspended animation for a few hours before recovering on his own.
Therefore, theoretically, the Supe Virus should not be able to affect Superman who have been injected with V1.
However, V2 is a weakened version of V1, and it is a further evolution based on the original Compound V.
Therefore, John had a reasonable guess.
The Supe Virus might be effective against this group of V2 Superman.
At worst, they could control these Superman for a few hours, greatly weakening the White House's combat capabilities.
Thinking of this, John turned his head to look at Frenchie:
" Frenchie, if you sew a chest brace for the A-Train with recessed slots, you can perfectly hold those syringes in place."
Then, all the needles were converted to pneumatic pressure valves.
In this way, the A-Train became a mobile 'plague mother'.
He can achieve a very noticeable effect simply by scanning the crowd and randomly poking a few people in half a second...
The only thing to watch out for is getting your hands on the blood of those Superman; you'll most likely have to make a set of protective suits for each of us.
Frenchie had been coughing violently, stopped laughing when he heard this idea.
He stared blankly at John, his lips parted, and after a long while, he finally raised a finger:
"Mon Dieu... John, what's wrong with your head?"
"If you had shown up sooner, Vought wouldn't have made it this far..."
"Don't worry, there's still Starlight."
(Actually, did you guys notice? I've been keeping a secret from you guys for a long time about a little Easter egg.)
( John's super brain has already begun to slowly evolve)
(Nobody can tell, sob sob sob)
John then turned his gaze to Starlight, who was wiping Hughie's face:
"As far as I know, the ability of Starlight is to draw electricity from the surrounding environment for its own use."
The key issue is that the electricity available in the environment is finite and unstable.
When she was imprisoned on the 55th floor of Vought, Vought simply cut off all the power lines to that entire floor, preventing her from drawing electricity.
"If we were on the battlefield, this problem would undoubtedly be fatal."
"So... Frenchie, see if we can make her a high-frequency battery using materials, so she can draw power whenever she wants."
"Ugh... Fuck!"
Frenchie covered his short, cropped hair in frustration and sighed helplessly.
"Well, not only am I a chemist who never takes a vacation, but now I also have to work part-time as a mobile power bank architect."
My life as a working-class person is really tough...
Despite his complaints, Frenchie quickly drew a circuit diagram in his notebook and then picked up a ruler to get to work.
Just then, the Deep poked half its head out again, giving Hughie a sly look:
"Hey, Hughie, I actually think your abilities are the most comfortable!"
If this were to appear in a women's bathhouse or changing room, the scene... wow, it would be every man's ultimate dream!
" The Deep, if you utter another word, I'll cut your tongue out and shove it down your cheek."
Upon hearing the Deep's words, Queen Maeve, leaning against the supporting pillar, spoke coldly.
A fierce glint flashed in her narrow phoenix eyes, and with a "whoosh," the Queen's Sword in her hand was pulled halfway out of the crack in the floor tiles.
"Holy crap..."
The Deep shrank back in fear of this menacing appearance.
"Why are you yelling so fiercely... It's just that I lost control of my bladder when I was suppressing you here, is it really worth holding a grudge until now?"
"You're asking for it!"
Queen Maeve's already aloof face flushed bright red.
The muscles in his arm tensed instantly, and the longsword pierced the air, about to slash at that lewd dog's head in the Deep.
" Maeve, calm down! Calm down!!"
" The Deep, shut the hell up!"
Hughie was so frightened that he scrambled over and grabbed Maeve's arm tightly, hanging from the ground like a pendant.
"He's a spineless idiot!"
Hughie used every trick in the book, scratching his head and using every "beautiful word" he could think of to soothe Maeve.
After much persuasion, they finally managed to convince the enraged queen to return to the pillar.
Maeve glared at the Deep, slammed her sword into the ground, and pulled out a bottle of liquor, taking a large gulp of strong liquor.
After calming down the chaotic scene, John turned around and suddenly looked at Hughie, who was covered in sweat.
" Hughie, have you ever tried teleporting to a farther place, like... outer space?"
Hughie had just sat back down in his chair.
Upon hearing John's words, he stared blankly at the tip of his nose, completely stunned.
"Me, going to space?! What kind of joke is this?"
With my current physical abilities, I can barely carry someone for a kilometer under normal circumstances, let alone transport them to outer space...
Let's not even talk about whether my body can handle it.
Absolute zero combined with a vacuum and high pressure would kill me instantly...
Moreover, if I teleport myself, it's fine, but if I teleport someone else, all my clothes will be left behind.
It seems netizens aren't reliable enough after all... The "cosmic wanderer" version of Hughie looks like it's doomed.
"What a pity... However, if you're teleporting people, you don't actually need a kilometer; 500 meters is perfectly sufficient."
At that moment, Frenchie was working while eavesdropping, suddenly had a flash of inspiration and raised a wise finger:
"Attends! John... you don't mean to make Hughie a 'claw machine', do you?"
No... wait! In a sense, this is a 'human bombing machine'!!
Why can't I understand the meaning of these individual characters when they're put together?
Hughie was even more confused:
"Huh? A bomber?"
Frenchie seemed to have found the key point and excitedly explained:
" Hughie! Think about it! You could use teleportation to grab someone and then teleport them five hundred meters into the air!"
Then you release him in mid-air and teleport back to the ground!
That way, before that poor bastard falls and gets smashed to a pulp, he'll be a human bomb... That's killing two birds with one stone!
Upon hearing this imaginative idea, Snail in the Deep Sea added just the right touch:
" Hughie, you can throw other things too, like grenades, C4..."
As long as you throw accurately and don't hurt your teammates, you'll be the new Black Mamba.
Hughie sat there, imagining himself as a high-altitude drone, dropping people and objects onto the ground.
His lips twitched violently, and he couldn't utter a single word.
"Actually, there's another possibility... Theoretically speaking, Hughie could also teleport things away."
It could be Apple, clothing, or even... a limb, an organ.
John then turned his gaze to the Deep, who was laughing heartily.
"Your turn."
The laughter from the Deep abruptly stopped.
"What about me? Boss, I... I can't drop bombs from high altitudes, and I can't walk through walls!"
John looked him over and held up one finger.
"One of your abilities is the ability to communicate with all aquatic creatures, right?"
When asked about his area of expertise, the Deep instantly puffed out his chest with pride:
"Of course... Dolphins, salmon, octopuses, giant octopuses—anything that swims in the water, I guarantee I'll cook it all!"
Oh, really?
John walked to the bathtub, patted the Deep's wet shoulder, and said with a half-smile:
"Actually, Cthulhu... in a sense, is also a type of aquatic creature."
"What?"
The Deep Hai was completely stunned, his eyes wide open like saucers, his mouth so big it could fit a pineapple, and he remained frozen for a full half minute.
" Cthulhu...?"
"... That Great Old One? The cult novel Lovecraft wrote?"
A giant octopus with wings? The one that would drive you crazy just by looking at it?
In a sense...
John said.
It is also a marine creature.
"... Damn, such a thing definitely doesn't exist in our world, right?"
John ignored him and continued talking to himself.
"Don't you really like octopuses?"
Hearing John's words, the Deep looked constipated, and finally managed to utter a sentence:
"... How can that be the same? Even though Ambrosius broke up with me, at least her tentacles felt warm to the touch."
"Since you usually hunt octopuses and dolphins, you can try something more challenging."
The Deep gave a forced smile that was even uglier than a grimace.
"Boss, that's a novel... it's fictional..."
"Maybe?"
After teasing his incompetent teammates, John stopped joking, went to the table, and pulled out a 3D structural diagram of the White House.
"Alright, I've given you the inspiration... Now let's get down to business."
John extended his index finger and pointed to different areas of the map:
" The South Lawn, the West Wing office buildings, and the rooftops surrounding the White House are all made of Superman troops modified from Compound V2."
In addition, the Department of Defense has deployed fully automatic close-in weapon systems and heavy weapons around the area.
"As for the brainwashed civilians, they've already surrounded the White House completely, like a zombie apocalypse, densely packed with them."
John then pointed to the core underground area on the map, his brow furrowing slightly:
"I've previously used X-Ray Vision to scan the White House from afar; I could see everything else clearly."
Only fifty meters directly below the West Wing did my line of sight encounter a wall that was perhaps made of lead or zinc, which I could not see through.
"Lead and zinc?"
Frenchie raised an eyebrow.
"Is it to prevent your X-Ray Vision? But that doesn't make sense, don't Homelander do the same thing...?"
But to be honest, aside from the ability to freeze people into ice cream, your abilities are almost identical to Homelander's.
"Who knows what conspiracy Neuman and Stormfront are plotting?"
"Based on my guess, the A-Train, your Nathan..."
There are also sixteen other hostages being secretly held, and they are most likely all in that basement.
Upon hearing the word "brother," the A-Train clenched its fists tightly, and its eyes turned cold.
"Listen, A-Train."
John stared at him.
"The next part is very important, so you need to listen carefully."
I want you to use your irregular vibrational abilities, like passing through a wall, to make your body molecules resonate with the wall at a high frequency, and then slide through.
The Deep and Kimiko will lead the way to find the basement.
If it is confirmed to be a place of detention.
Then have your brother and all the hostages brought out before the final assault begins.
Then we'll fight as we agreed beforehand. I'll take care of a bunch of useless trash beforehand.
The A-Train nodded vigorously.
"Then there's the home-field advantage in combat."
John looked at the Deep and Kimiko:
" Kimiko, you and the Deep's team will be in charge of going first. You'll infiltrate through the underground drainage well and then investigate the basement."
Additionally, if you see the main water supply pipes, use your bone claws to forcefully destroy them.
Then there's the Deep; use your water control abilities to draw all the water out.
When I launch my final assault on the South Lawn, I'll quickly wet the ground to pave the way for the Starlight.
"As for Starlight, she'll follow Maeve and stay behind me. I'll lead the way."
"When the Deep water comes in, Frenchie, you activate the battery, give Starlight a boost, and send them a big gift."
At this moment, Butcher, who had been leaning against the corner without saying a word, exhaled a puff of smoke and picked at his ear:
"Oops, you son of a bitch... They all have jobs to do, do you expect me to go and do a striptease for Neuman in front of the White House?"
John glanced at him sideways.
"You don't have superpowers; if you go, you'll just be creating organic fertilizer for the lawn."
Cate is still at the base, so you'll stay there and do logistics, keeping watch and monitoring, and also taking care of her.
"Bollocks (bullshit), I'm not some kind of Watchdogs anymore, you better not give me any extra work to do."
"I've invested so much time and energy, and even my retirement savings of over a decade... Don't mess this up!"
Despite his complaints, Butcher still roughly slung the stick over his shoulder, took a drag of his cigarette, and agreed.
"I'll stay here and keep watch, make sure I don't fucking die in there. I'm still waiting to go to Canada to see Becca."
After the assignments were completed, John straightened the collar of his newly bought trench coat.
Looking around at this group of "life-or-death friends" whose lives spanned past and present, a glint of crimson light flashed in his azure eyes.
"Everyone... it's almost dawn."
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