"Thunder / Young Dumb & Broke (Medley)"
The blinding sunlight streamed through the gaps in the dusty curtains, illuminating Cate's pale face.
Seemingly uncomfortable from the scorching sun, Cate's eyelashes trembled, and it took her a long time to open her eyes with difficulty.
Immediately afterwards, a wave of inexplicable nausea and stinging sensation surged up and rushed into my brain.
Gunshots, the sound of bricks shattering glass, roars from within the smoke...
These scattered fragments of memory collided with each other, accompanied by a sharp, throbbing pain that pierced my temples.
It took Cate an unknown amount of time to fully regain her senses.
She belatedly realized that everything around her seemed completely unfamiliar.
The room was brightly lit, with countless dust particles swirling in the air, and a stench of mold and cheap cigarettes permeated the air.
"What's going on...?"
Cate sniffed and tried to raise her hand, but felt a sharp pain.
She glanced sideways nervously and saw a transparent tube pressed against the back of her hand, liquid dripping into her veins.
Sunlight shone on the IV bottle, refracting a dazzling white light.
"You're awake? I thought you'd be lying in bed until next year."
The sound came from the shadows near the window; it was rough, hoarse, and carried a familiar, roguish quality.
Cate, ignoring the pain in her neck, turned her head away.
Butcher was slumped in a wooden chair, holding an iron cup in one hand, yawning at the steam rising from it.
"So... Sleeping Beauty, how did you feel when you woke up?"
He slowly took a sip of coffee, grinned, and revealed his smoky, yellowed teeth.
"I... cough cough!"
Cate tried to speak, but her throat was dry, and all she could manage was a dry cough.
She gritted her teeth and braced herself against the bed with the hand that wasn't receiving the IV drip.
He forcefully moved his body up half a foot, leaning his back against the wooden headboard.
The movement caused her to break out in a cold sweat on her forehead, and a few strands of her blonde hair, soaked with sweat, clung to her cheeks.
Where is John?
Her voice was hoarse.
" Frenchie... and Kimiko, where are they?"
"Well..."
Butcher placed the cup on the broken wooden table beside him and continued:
They went to the White House early this morning.
He took out a cigarette case from his pocket, put one in his mouth, and then bit the cigarette butt with his teeth.
"Go settle the score with those drug-addicted bastards."
Cate's heart skipped a beat when she heard his words.
" The White House? Just those few people?"
How many people?
Butcher gave a cold laugh.
"It's quite a spectacle over there now... Led by those two bitches, Neuman and Storm, there's a whopping 30,000 brainwashed idiots gathered outside."
Add to that a bunch of Superman, and in broad daylight, the scene was more spectacular than World War.
"No..."
Cate shook her head, her mind a jumbled mess.
"They can't hold out... I need to go."
She grabbed the tape on the back of her hand, intending to tear it off forcefully.
At that moment, a large, calloused hand covered her wrist and pressed down on it.
"Take your hand back."
"Girl, John told me to keep an eye on you before he left. Now you've just slipped out to your death. How am I supposed to explain this?"
"They might just uninstall me then."
"Are you kidding me? Let go of me!"
Cate's eyes widened as she tried to pull her hand away, but her weak body had no strength to muster.
"Are you just going to sit here and watch them go to the White House?"
"Fuck... what do you know?"
He released his grip and took a step back.
Do I look like I'm on vacation here?
Butcher turned to the side and gestured with his chin towards the shadows at the foot of the bed.
Cate followed his gaze and then noticed.
On a folding table against the wall, there were two heavy, old monitors.
Sunlight shone on the screen, giving it a hazy blue glow.
It contains not only densely packed radio band data, but also an electronic map of Washington, D.C..
There are also several real-time monitoring split screens with extremely poor image quality.
On the screen, one could indeed see a blurry mass of people in the White House square, burning cars, and plumes of black smoke rising from it from time to time.
"Logistics and intelligence are also part of warfare."
Butcher picked up his cigarette again and leaned back in his chair with a nonchalant air.
"If it weren't for my presence here monitoring the frequency band, and the automatic defense network that the A-Train used to clear their escape route..."
"The Deep and Kimiko couldn't even get into the main gate."
Cate bit her lower lip tightly, staring at the blurry images on the screen, her mind in turmoil.
After a long while, she lowered her eyelashes, lowered her voice, and covered her lower abdomen with her hand:
"Where's the restroom...? I drank a lot of water and need to use the toilet."
Butcher glanced at her sideways:
"Toilet?"
"Yes, I couldn't hold it in any longer."
Butcher sighed and stood up from his chair.
He then stretched, his bones making a sore, cracking sound.
"Turn right after you go out the door, there's a green tin box in the corner of the yard, that's it."
He gestured with his chin towards the view outside the window.
"Walk slowly, don't step in the dog poop that wasn't cleaned up a couple of days ago. If you do, I won't wash it for you."
As he spoke, he walked toward the kitchen.
"I'll go check the kitchen... You're lucky, I just made a pot of cream of mushroom soup."
Normally only Becca and Ryan get this kind of treatment. Hurry up and go, drink it while it's hot when you get back.
The heavy sound of boots echoed on the floor and faded into the distance.
Soon, the sounds of iron pots clashing and faucets being turned on came from the kitchen.
Once Cate was sure that Butcher's footsteps had faded into the distance, her expression suddenly turned serious.
She gritted her teeth, then grabbed the needle on the back of her hand and pulled it out.
The needle ripped along the skin, leaving a trail of bright red blood.
"Hiss--"
The intense pain made her gasp. She fought off waves of nausea and moved her legs off the bed.
The moment she stepped onto the cold, hard wooden board, her legs felt like lead and she almost collapsed to her knees.
She could only stagger, supporting herself against the wall, and move unsteadily toward the back door.
"Creak--"
Not long after, the wooden door was gently pushed open a crack.
A sweltering summer breeze swept in instantly, and the midday sun was so bright that Cate could barely open her eyes.
The yard was overgrown with weeds, which emitted a bitter, hay-like smell under the scorching sun.
The tin-roofed toilet Butcher mentioned was just a few meters away in the shadows.
Cate didn't even glance at the restroom.
Using the shadow of the house as cover, she clung to the outer wall and stumbled toward the dilapidated fence surrounding the yard.
Before long, her figure disappeared into the courtyard.
Ten minutes later.
In the kitchen, Butcher stirred the scalding soup with a wooden spoon, the air filled with the rich aroma of cream and mushrooms.
"Oh... it's absolutely perfect!"
He scooped up a small spoonful, blew on it, took a bite, and smacked his lips in satisfaction.
Then, he used a tattered rag to line the soup bowl and carried the steaming hot soup back to his room.
"The soup is ready, drink it while it's hot, and give it to me when you're done—"
He stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence.
The midday sun slanted into the room, illuminating the empty hospital bed.
Butcher held the soup bowl, staring at the empty bed, then turned to look at the back door that had been ajar.
Hot air blew into the room from outside, stirring up several sheets of scrap paper on the table.
"Hold..."
Butcher cursed.
"I fucking knew it..."
He strode to the table and slammed the bowl of soup down next to the monitor.
Immediately afterwards, he pulled open the old drawer under the table.
Inside the drawer, there were some yellowed papers, rusty screws and nuts, and several boxes of loose bullets piled up haphazardly.
He flipped through them, then reached out and grabbed the heavy iron crowbar at the very bottom.
The cold, metallic texture and the weight of the metal made him narrow his eyes slightly, then a fierce glint appeared in them.
"Damn it, I couldn't escape this fate after all."
Butcher casually grabbed the long black trench coat from the table, flicked it open, and put it on.
He then yanked his collar down hard, shook his head, and grinned wickedly.
"Sons... Daddy's here."
Above the South Lawn.
The smells of gunpowder, blood, and the nauseating stench of burning human flesh mingled together and lingered.
Countless dismembered tissues, severed body parts and necks, were glued together by the high temperature.
Some people propped themselves up on their upper bodies, their intestines protruding from behind, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.
Some people held their child's head and wept uncontrollably.
Countless cries of agony and screams of pain followed one after another.
At that moment, a sharp sonic boom rang out, piercing straight through the gloom in the sky.
"Whoosh--!"
A blue and red afterimage crashed down, instantly shattering the flowerbed in front of Truman Balcony into dust, sending pebbles flying.
Amidst the billowing dust, the Stars and Stripes cape fluttered in the scorching wind.
The Homelander stood atop a tall pillar amidst the ruins, his arms crossed and his expression shifting between light and shadow.
His entire face twitched slightly, and veins bulged on his temples.
His blue eyes were filled with gloom and bloodshot.
To the Homelander, these so-called commoners are worthless lives with no value whatsoever.
In his eyes, these idiots were nothing more than pieces of meat that would applaud him and boost his approval ratings.
However, at this moment, footage of John's Carnage was displayed on the live stream screen.
The problem is that cameras and outdoor screens all over the US are now pointing at this place.
John's public massacre was tantamount to slapping him hard in the face in front of hundreds of millions of people.
This confirms that he is ineffective in protecting the people and is a useless figurehead, which will tarnish his prestige and image.
It even led to a drop in his approval rating, which he cared about most.
For him, who now considers himself a "god," this is an absolutely intolerable and utterly humiliating disgrace.
At that moment, the purple arcs of electricity surrounding Storm also flew towards Homelander's direction.
Then he pressed his body down and stopped in mid-air.
Then, he stared warily at John was also hovering opposite him.
You see, she could only learn about John from oral accounts from her Homelander.
According to Homelander, John's abilities were almost equal to his, and he was even slightly stronger.
But Storm has lived for nearly a century and is a schemer who crawled out of piles of Deadman from World War II; she can smell real danger.
Beside the pool of blood, the "young Homelander," dressed in a black outfit, hung silently in the air.
After the massive Carnage, his chest heaved calmly, and his face showed no sign of weakness.
Furthermore, his body surface exhibited an inconceivable ability that had never been seen in the Homelander.
"You despicable counterfeit..."
Homelander squinted, hovered half a meter forward, and his voice trembled as he squeezed it out from between his teeth:
"How dare you... how dare you touch my voters?! You devil in human skin!"
Suddenly, he looked up and quickly locked onto a buzzing news broadcasting drone in mid-air.
The purplish-black blood vessels around his eyes were still twitching violently.
But the rage and ferocity on his face betrayed a strange, almost pitiful tremor the moment the camera focused on him.
Did you all see that...?
He blinked his reddened eyes at the camera, sniffled, and spoke in a hoarse, tearful voice:
"Look at these poor people... they were just shouting my name from the audience."
There was a young man inside, wearing a T-shirt with my picture on it, who had just smiled happily at me.
Homelander tilted his head nervously, then suddenly stretched out a blood-stained finger and poked John across the table.
His lips twitched wildly, and his voice suddenly rose in pitch:
"And then?! This damned bastard actually slaughtered all these kind and lovely people!"
And there are tens of thousands of the most loyal citizens of America! Why?! Just because they believe in justice?!
As he spoke, he took a heavy step forward, his fingernails digging deep into his palms, blood trickling down between his fingers.
He stared intently at the camera, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, revealing a chillingly fake smile.
"Don't be afraid... America, your 'god' is right here."
As soon as he finished speaking, the fake smile on his face was replaced by a frenzied and ferocious expression, followed by a deafening roar.
"Therefore, in the name of 'God,' on behalf of these thirty thousand Holy Spirits..."
Peel off this demon's flesh inch by inch, and offer it as a blood sacrifice to the departed souls of America!
"Holy War—Begin!"
Hearing Homelander's frenzied speech, Storm felt a cold sweat inexplicably seep down her back for some reason.
She stared intently at John, then swiftly flew to Homelander's side.
"Honey, don't be impulsive! He's got a bad vibe, let's go together..."
"Shut your mouth, Clara."
Homelander didn't even turn his head; his voice suddenly turned cold.
The capillaries around the eyes burst violently under the skin, turning into rings of hideous scarlet spiderwebs.
Immediately afterwards, two blinding crimson lights suddenly shone from the depths of his eyes, the scorching light sizzling on the surface of his eyeballs.
"You just need to kill those rats down there, as for him..."
Homelander licked his lips and gave a grotesque, neurotic grin.
He's mine.
"But..."
"No buts! Clara, are you fucking disobedient too?"
Storm looked helplessly at the bloodlust surging in Homelander's eyes, and offered no further words of advice.
Surrounded by piercing lightning, he turned around, his eyes bursting with intense purple electric light.
Then it transformed into a black shadow and pounced straight at Starlight and Hughie below.