βios (Guilty Crown)
The roar faded, leaving only deathly silence.
The air was thick, filled with ozone and the stench of burning flesh. Entire layers of ground within a radius of several hundred meters had been torn away.
Asphalt and mud mixed with molten lava, steam rising from the pits.
The thick, inky smoke seemed to be dotted with a drop of fresh water, blurring the canvas and making it appear even lighter.
A body stood silently.
The wind blew away the last wisp of haze that had been obscuring the view.
Sunlight pierced through the thin layer of smoke and dust, casting a faint golden hue on his pale skin.
It is worth mentioning that there was not a single trace of him being scorched by the intense heat of the fire on his body.
After this battle, his physique actually became more robust and his proportions more harmonious.
Lines cast with molten copper are sharp and distinct.
Between the muscles, rising and falling slightly with each breath, the fine, thread-like tendons are taut and straight.
John slowly lowered his head, gazing at his right hand.
Klan's eyes were now filled with a burst of golden-red light.
The radiant rays, like streams of molten metal, flowed along the capillaries, all the way to the deep corners of his eyes.
He first slightly curled his fingers, then suddenly clenched them without warning.
Thump!
The instant they closed their hands, the airtight seal compressed to its limit was instantly broken, exploding with a muffled boom in the deathly silent crater.
Immediately afterwards.
A visible ring of white shockwave rippled outwards from his fist, sending sparks flying from the molten slag beneath his feet.
"Creak--"
John stretched his neck expressionlessly, then stretched his arms and lazily yawned.
The next moment, a series of popping sounds emanated from his entire body.
His chest rose and fell slowly, and his blood surged through his systemic circulation. A fine, hot flow of energy rose even higher under the sunlight.
Three steps behind John, in the scorched mud, a charred "human figure" remained kneeling, stiff on the ground.
He's Soldier Boy.
The palm-colored combat suit was mostly carbonized, and the exposed skin and flesh were cracked.
Dark red mixed with carbon ash solidified under the skin, and charred white smoke continued to rise from the back.
But what John couldn't help but marvel at was...
This biological father is still alive.
Upon closer inspection, his chest was still rising and falling very slightly, and with X-Ray Vision, his heart pump was still continuously producing energy for his entire body.
This self-destruction nearly exhausted all of his physical strength, mental energy, and overall strength.
Although the Soldier Boy is still alive, he has fallen into a deep coma and is temporarily unable to move.
John glanced back at the Soldier Boy from Pompeii, and an idea quickly flashed through his mind.
Then, he slightly raised his chin.
A silent flow of gold and red shimmered in his eyes.
He looked up, his gaze piercing through the smoke like a sharp blade, fixing on the collapsed ruins hundreds of meters away.
At the edge of the ruins.
Concrete blocks and steel bars were piled up haphazardly.
Cate collapsed amidst the rubble, her hoodie soaked with blood, clinging wetly to her waist.
She gritted her teeth, trying to prop herself up on her elbows.
But just as he gasped for breath, a sharp pain, like broken bones, shot through his chest.
The pain made her arms tremble, and a thin layer of cold sweat trickled down her forehead.
Beside her, the Private Angel was crouching in front of her, stroking Cate's hair with one hand and looking down at her.
Her face was flushed with a cruel and lewd blush.
"Oh dear, poor stray dogs... How did your people get beaten up so badly?"
The Private Angel giggled exaggeratedly, teasingly licking his full lower lip with the tip of his tongue.
"That one just now, that must have been the experimental subject Vought was talking about..."
"Instead of following this bunch of good-for-nothings, you'd be better off enjoying life with your sister. Every day will be pure bliss!"
"I'm attractive to both men and women..."
"Get lost... you rotten bitch from Puxi..."
Cate tried to get up, but she was too weak and collapsed back onto the ground after a few attempts.
"Are you angry? Poor little bitch..."
The Private Angel sneered, then suddenly slammed his right foot down, pressing Cate's cheek firmly into the rubble.
"Like mud, it can't be helped up in the end."
The Private Angel hadn't finished speaking.
The surrounding air suddenly began to resonate, producing a whistling sound that was stretched to its limit.
Immediately afterwards, a flesh-colored afterimage appeared out of thin air in front of the Private Angel's retina, and the camera zoomed in continuously.
The Private Angel's pupils contracted sharply.
Before she could react...
A large hand reached out and gripped her throat tightly.
"Well--!"
Immediately afterwards, an overwhelming and violent force yanked her straight up from the ground.
"Waaah..."
The feet of the Private Angel suddenly dangled in the air.
But to everyone's surprise...
Instead of fear, her expression when she was being choked showed a strange sense of ecstasy and satisfaction.
She's Superman with self-healing abilities, so this is nothing to her.
On the contrary, the feeling of suffocation, lack of oxygen, and collapse made her experience an unprecedented sense of enjoyment.
Ah~
She pulled open her face, which was flushed red from holding her breath, her lips parted wide, revealing a set of white teeth.
The person did not restrain themselves despite feeling suffocated.
Instead, she swayed her serpentine waist in mid-air in an extremely blatant manner.
Two long, taut thighs crossed and clamped together in the air.
The boots even brushed lightly against John's bare, muscular chest.
"Hahaha..."
The Private Angel squeezed out broken, breathy sounds, their eyes filled with unsatisfied, seductive allure.
"Wow... such a strong grip... it's pinching me so hard... I feel like I'm melting..."
Her hips swayed, and her full breasts heaved violently.
Soon, a foul odor wafted from between her taut legs.
"If you keep this up... people are about to burst..."
She stuck out her tongue and licked her red lips, her face flushing even more.
"Pick as you please..."
John didn't even glance at the bitch the entire time.
He raised his entire arm to the side, freezing the woman who was writhing and acting provocatively in mid-air.
Then, he slowly turned his head, his face expressionless, toward Cate in the ruins.
"Just now... was that female dog riding on your head?"
John's voice was very soft.
Cate struggled to sit up and lift her face.
When she saw John's golden-red eyes, as red as the sun, her heart skipped a beat almost imperceptibly.
She met John's gaze and nodded weakly.
John then slowly turned his head back.
His gaze fell on the Private Angel's flushed, charmingly smiling face.
Looking at that face with its tongue sticking out and its eyes glazed over.
John's lips suddenly curled up slightly, revealing a smile.
You're very proactive.
John said softly.
"Then I'll grant your wish."
The Private Angel's pupils suddenly contracted.
She realized John was serious.
Seriously, I'm going to kill her.
"Boom--!!"
The next second, two blazing, almost golden Heat Vision, as thick as pillars, shot directly at the face of the Private Angel.
"Sizzle--!!"
The Private Angel's fawning smile froze completely.
Her skin and facial features were instantly scorched black and disintegrated under the intense high energy.
Immediately afterwards, even more Heat Vision flowed directly into her cranial cavity through her eye sockets and nasal cavity!
"Hiss--"
Brain tissue and intracranial blood are instantly boiled and vaporized.
"Bang!!"
With a dull thud, the Private Angel's head exploded like a smashed watermelon!
Countless skull fragments, scalding brain matter, and dark red blood foam shot out in all directions like a shower of flowers.
"Sizzle--"
The headless body convulsed violently, its previously taut and slender legs suddenly stiffened, and then went limp.
"Splash--"
Sphincter dysfunction.
A large amount of thick, murky liquid instantly soaked the entire taut strip of white leather, making it heavy and translucent.
Scalding hot liquid flowed down her long, slender thighs.
It flowed down in a winding stream, accumulating into a pool of muddy yellow foam between the boot top and the gravel.
The scorching hot earth emitted a dense hissing sound as it was watered.
The stench, mixed with the lingering scent of cosmetics, transformed into wisps of hot, fishy steam that rose and permeated the air of the ruins.
John released his grip in disgust.
The headless body crashed heavily to the ground like a rag doll with its strings cut.
Then, John turned to Cate, the gold and red tassels fluttering at the corners of his eyes:
Take care of yourself.
Before he finished speaking, he lifted the charred and urinous corpse with one hand, his body sinking slightly.
The next second, a white sonic cone shattered in the air, and the person vanished from the spot as a blur.
"Thump!!"
A sonic boom erupted.
Starlight was kneeling behind the broken walls and ruins, his face deathly pale.
Upon closer inspection, her right forearm was strangely twisted, and Hughie was anxiously bandaging it with a piece of cloth torn from his clothes.
Butcher stood in front of the two men, holding a crowbar in one hand and a Gatling gun he had taken from them in the other.
"Clatter!"
Suddenly, a charred, headless corpse crashed onto the open ground in front of Starlight.
"Holy shit--"
Hughie screamed in fright and fell backward.
Starlight was startled, and its left hand instinctively emitted a faint white electric light.
Those are... Private Angel?
But when she saw the remaining combat gear on the corpse, the horror in her eyes instantly turned into joy.
" John...?!"
Amidst the swirling air currents, John's shirtless body hovered in mid-air, his golden-red eyes looking down at the crowd on the ground.
" Hughie, take good care of Starlight."
" The A-Train should be almost done... You guys take care of the mess on the ground."
"Oh... right, that slut isn't quite dead yet, keep an eye on her."
Hughie swallowed hard, looking at the still-smoking body, feeling a headache coming on.
But he gritted his teeth and nodded:
"I... I understand! Leave it to me!"
"Hey... you little bastard, you're still alive?"
I thought that last blast sent you straight to Hell to lick the eyes of a devil...
Butcher grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.
John first glanced at the bloodstains on Butcher's body, then at the crowbar he was carrying.
Under the watchful eyes of Hughie and Starlight.
John raised his right hand expressionlessly and held up his long Butcher middle finger straight at Butcher.
Butcher paused for a moment, then threw his head back and burst into a hearty the Batman Who Laughs:
"Hahaha! Go... kill those sons of bitches, then shove their heads down the toilet..."
"I'll cover up all the trash on the ground for you!"
Amidst the Batman Who Laughs, the surrounding air suddenly contracted.
"Thump--!!"
The ground beneath their feet suddenly collapsed, and a white shockwave swept out in a ring, sending debris flying everywhere.
John's figure shot out like a cannon fired backwards, leaving a blurry, flesh-colored trail of light.
It crashed through the clouds and soared into the sky at an altitude of 10,000 meters!
Above the stratosphere.
The rolling white clouds, like a boundless snowfield, completely isolated everything below.
Godolkin is currently suspending in the air with his arms crossed, basking in the sunlight with extreme comfort.
He squinted, a faint, intoxicated smile playing on his lips.
This body... is simply too perfect.
With each heartbeat, blood surges.
Within his muscles, there was a power that rivaled that of a god...
How wonderful--
This feeling of being above all living beings, regarding everything as worthless!
He finally had it...
Suddenly, two sharp, piercing sounds tore through the air, tearing apart the sea of clouds below.
"Sizzle--!"
A violent purple arc of high-voltage electricity tore a huge rift in the clouds.
Storm, accompanied by lightning, roared upwards and abruptly stopped ten meters in mid-air in front of Godolkin.
Behind her, the Bombsight.
His eyes scanned his surroundings warily, clearly still shaken by the huge commotion below.
"Honey, what's wrong with you...?"
Storm's breathing was somewhat disordered. She glanced at the blasted hole in the clouds below and questioned rapidly:
"What just happened down there?! Was that the Soldier Boy's Chest Cannon self-destructing?!"
But Godolkin remained engrossed in his own world, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.
Seeing this, Storm's anxiety grew even stronger.
"He is our newly introduced spokesperson, whose status and commercial value are second only to yours, and he is also a necessary step in our transformation."
What will the public and the military think about this incident involving the Soldier Boy at this critical juncture?
Vought ' stock and approval ratings will plummet to their lowest point in the next few days, which is completely different from what we predicted!
"Oh... so, what does this have to do with me?"
Godolkin slowly opened his eyes.
Those deep blue eyes, which originally belonged only to the Homelander, no longer held the infatuation and dependence that Storm was familiar with.
Instead, there is an ancient, cold indifference that views everything as ants.
He tilted his head slightly, and a slow grin spread across his face, revealing a row of gleaming white teeth.
"And..."
Godolkin's voice was soft, with a hint of mockery in his tone:
Are you teaching me how to do things?
Storm's figure suddenly stiffened.
The unfamiliarity and imposing tone in the voice, like a bucket of icy snow water, extinguished most of her anger.
She understands the Homelander very well.
That overgrown child who longs to be loved and adored, yet whose heart is as fragile as a baby's.
They always act as if they can take whatever they want from me.
He would hug his chest and cry in the middle of the night, craving my touch and guidance like a dog.
But what's in front of me...
His reaction and eyes didn't resemble those of Homelander at all.
He's more like a scornful, chilling old ghost.
It was a very familiar feeling, much like that of someone she knew from the past...
In fact, they are exactly the same.
"You..."
Storm's voice began to tremble; she seemed to have realized something extremely terrifying.
"No... this can't be... you're not him..."
Her gaze was fixed on the extremely tiny, bizarre twitches of Godolkin's facial nerves.
That terrifying conjecture clung to her thoughts like a bone-deep infection, causing her mind to explode.
" Godolkin... it was you?"
Upon hearing the name, Godolkin showed no sign of panic at being exposed; instead, he comfortably opened his arms to the sun.
"Why not? My Clara..."
Godolkin's smile faded, and he casually picked at his ear with his little finger.
"Just a mentally challenged giant baby whose brain is filled with Mother's Milk and who only knows how to cry for his mother all day long."
He possessed a godlike body, yet his soul was as weak and insignificant as a maggot in the mud.
Such immense power is actually in the hands of a giant baby? Isn't this the greatest desecration of superpowers?
He took a step forward, then flew upwards a full body length with his hands behind his back, looking down at the Stormfront from above.
"Now, this body belongs to me, a brand new and perfect fit..."
Godolkin smiled as he looked at Storm.
"Isn't this good?"
(Traffic volume has plummeted to rock bottom today; it was 990 a few days ago, but only 77 today.)
(If you think it looks good, please leave a comment! Let me see your enthusiasm!)
(The next chapter may be released early this morning)
( The Boys arc is nearing its end. Thank you all for your continued support!)