(Brain storage. Limited spaces available.)
(Free returns within seven days. Leave your brain here with confidence.)
(This is my first time writing a novel. I'll consider any suggestions about the plot.)
"Holy crap, take this V1 and hold it tight!!!"
"Where's Homelander's barrel-thick Heat Vision? Did they feed the effects budget to Agent Smith?"
In his rented room, Chen Mo had Prototype running on the computer to his left and was watching The Boys' finale on his phone to his right. His blood pressure kept climbing as he watched.
Then the scene where Homelander fell to his knees and begged for mercy came on.
Chen Mo finally lost it.
He slammed a palm on the desk. The old computer desk let out a groan, all four legs went on strike at once, and it tipped sideways with a crash.
"If you're going to botch the ending, at least put some effort into it!"
Chen Mo stared at his phone in disbelief. "This is an insult to my intelligence. What the hell, they brought ice to the bombsite? Does Homelander even know how to play? My grandma could've won that round!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the computer, whose screen had gone black, suddenly flickered.
Chen Mo froze.
The next second, a blinding white light burst from the screen, instantly illuminating the entire room.
"Wait, dude, you can talk back?"
He had just started to step back when a tremendous bang erupted in front of the computer, and a basketball-sized sphere of lightning appeared out of thin air. Chen Mo came to his senses and hurried to dodge, but strangely, though his mind was perfectly clear, his body had stopped responding. He couldn't move so much as a finger.
In his final second, only one thought remained in his head.
I'm screwed. I haven't deleted my study materials.
With a thunderous boom, the entire building shook, and a lump of charcoal formerly known as Chen Mo appeared in the living room.
"Ah, fuck!!!"
Chen Mo's eyes flew open, and he sprang upright from the ground. His back hit the wall, making him grimace in pain.
His first reaction wasn't relief.
It was to look down and check whether all his parts were still there.
Lefty and righty were both there, both legs were intact, and Little Chen Mo was there too.
He didn't smell like barbecue, either.
"Huh? I'm actually still alive?"
Chen Mo touched his face, then his chest, his expression growing more and more shocked. "Has modern medicine gotten that good? They can even bring charcoal back to life?"
But he soon noticed something was wrong.
For one thing, he was sitting in a filthy little alley. Discarded newspapers and broken cardboard boxes lay by his feet, the air reeked of sour garbage, and the walls were covered in graffiti he couldn't read.
"Whoa, where the hell did that send me?"
Chen Mo brushed the dust off his clothes, sat up, and looked himself over.
A gray hoodie, jeans, sneakers, and seventeen dollars in change in his pocket.
"Are these clothes really that tough? They could give the Hulk's shorts a run for their money."
Chen Mo studied the dollar bills for a long moment, the ease on his face gradually fading.
Dollars that had mysteriously appeared in his pocket, strange English graffiti, and an unfamiliar neighborhood.
Something was starting to feel off.
He had just started toward the mouth of the alley when his stomach suddenly cramped hard.
It felt as though someone had installed a black hole in his belly and was shouting through a megaphone, "Put something in me right now, or none of us are making it through today."
Chen Mo doubled over, pressing a hand hard against his stomach.
"Damn, what kind of hospital treatment comes with a starving ghost's reincarnation?"
After recovering for a few seconds, he braced himself against the wall and made his way out one step at a time.
Half a billboard jutted out beyond the alley entrance.
On the screen, a blond man wearing a star-spangled cape was giving the camera a textbook smile.
Chen Mo stopped in his tracks.
He stared at the face for three seconds, then blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"The Boys still has money for ads? I thought they spent the whole budget on the sequel."
Nobody paid him any attention.
Outside the alley, a few Black guys leaned against a wall, smoking. One of them glanced up at him, then quickly looked away.
The ad continued playing.
On-screen, Homelander hovered in midair, his cape snapping in the wind as a crowd below held up their phones and cheered.
In the next shot, Queen Maeve raised a hand to stop a runaway truck, while an excited reporter nearly shoved a microphone into her mouth.
A-Train raced around a track, leaving afterimages in his wake. The Deep waved at the camera from the seaside, and Black Noir and Translucent appeared in turn.
Finally, a line of large text appeared on the screen.
Vought International. The Seven. Protecting you every day.
By the time Chen Mo finished watching the promotional video, his expression had gradually fallen.
"Good news: I transmigrated."
He took a deep breath and looked up at Homelander's smiling face.
"Bad news: I landed in the shithole that is The Boys."
A middle-aged Black man passing by heard him muttering and stopped to look at him.
"Hey, brother, you okay?"
Chen Mo turned and immediately put on a faint smile.
"I'm all right. I just found out I have no legal identity, and I also confirmed that I can actually speak English now."
The man's gaze instantly filled with a little pity.
This young man probably wasn't all there in the head.
"Don't sleep here. This neighborhood isn't safe."
"Thanks. Black guys speak the same language, and they're pretty nice too."
Chen Mo waved and walked out of the alley, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight on the street.
The streets of New York were bustling.
Pedestrians crowded the sidewalks. Store windows displayed The Seven-branded cups, T-shirts, and dolls, as well as children's capes just like Homelander's.
A little boy was tugging at his mother's sleeve, pointing at a cape in a window.
"Mom, I want a Homelander cape!"
The young mother bent down and smiled as she patted his head. "Next week, sweetheart. I'll buy it for you when I get paid."
Chen Mo passed by and muttered under his breath, "Kid, take my advice. Don't let Homelander see your mom."
The little boy turned around. "What did you say?"
Chen Mo quickly waved a hand.
"I said that cape is cool. Once you put it on, remember not to jump down the stairs. You can't fly."
The little boy nodded solemnly.
"I won't. I'm not stupid."
Chen Mo gave him a thumbs-up.
"You're already smarter than a lot of adults. You know, plenty of adults can't resist trying to transform when they get their hands on a Sparklence, even when they know the thing doesn't do a damn thing."
The young mother immediately shot him a wary look and pulled her child away as though guarding against a kidnapper.
Chen Mo didn't mind.
He wasn't in the mood to explain anyway. The black hole in his stomach had already graduated to devouring the stars.
There happened to be a convenience store nearby.
Chen Mo pushed the door open and stepped inside. Cool air washed over him, and the television behind the register was playing the news.
The female anchor's makeup was immaculate, and she spoke rapidly.
"Homelander successfully stopped a bank robbery this morning. A Vought International spokesperson stated that superheroes are not only guardians of the city's safety, but also trusted friends of every family."
The footage cut to the front of the bank.
Homelander stood in front of the police tape, giving the camera a gentle smile.
The reporter asked, "How did you determine the robbers' location?"
Homelander lowered his head slightly, his voice steady. "I just heard people needed me."
The clerk leaned against the counter, scanning items with an entranced look on his face.
"He's so handsome, isn't he?"
Chen Mo picked up a bottle of water and two energy bars and walked over to the counter.
"He is, but that interview makes him sound like some company's top salesman giving an acceptance speech."
The clerk looked up at him, his gaze turning unfriendly.
"You don't like Homelander?"
Chen Mo glanced at the television, then at the Homelander T-shirt the clerk was wearing, and immediately put on a sincere expression.
"If I said I loved him to death, would you consider giving me a free bottle of water?"
A boy with a backpack walked over and was checking out beside him.
"It's okay, I'll buy you a bottle, buddy."
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow and took a closer look at him.
"Really? Thanks, buddy."
The clerk took the items without expression.
"Two energy bars, four dollars."
"All right. Good thing someone helped me out, or I wouldn't even know where dinner was coming from."
Chen Mo slapped the money onto the counter.
The interview on the television continued.
The reporter asked, "Mr. Homelander, is there anything you'd like to say to the public?"
Homelander looked into the camera, his smile so perfect it could have been copied and pasted.
"Don't be afraid. I'm always here."
Chen Mo opened the water and gulped down half the bottle.
The water slid down his throat, but the hunger in his stomach barely changed.
He tore open an energy bar and took a big bite.
It tasted like cardboard mixed with chocolate powder.
Chen Mo chewed twice without expression, then raised an eyebrow.
"They charge two dollars for this crap? Capitalism's eating people, and now it can't even spare the seasoning?"
The clerk rolled his eyes.
"If you don't like it, don't buy it."
"I already bought it. I have to respect my own poverty."
Chen Mo stuffed the rest of the energy bar into his mouth, turned, and left the convenience store.
The sun shone brightly on the street, and the crowds bustled about.
Everything looked perfectly normal.
But he knew very well that in this world, normality was just a layer of frosting spread over rotten meat. Few of the superheroes who looked so glamorous in front of the cameras could be called human behind the scenes.
More troublesome still, he had no legal identity.
No ID, no place to stay, no money, and no connections.
And he was on Homelander's turf.
"Ha, I'd better figure out how to get back to China."
Chen Mo looked up at the giant screen between the skyscrapers, just as it switched to a group photo of The Seven.
He had just started to move when another cramp seized his stomach.
This time, it was worse than before.
Chen Mo stumbled and caught himself on a roadside trash can, accidentally brushing his fingertips against the sheet-metal edge.
A tiny cut appeared on his palm.
A bead of blood had barely emerged when it quickly withdrew the next second.
The edges of the wound wriggled slightly, as though black-and-red filaments had flashed beneath his skin.
Chen Mo froze.
He looked down at his palm.
The cut was healing.
In just a few seconds, all that remained was a faint white mark.
The hunger was still there.
But even clearer than the hunger was a strange instinct deep within his body.
It seemed to be reminding him.
Eat.
Evolve.
Chen Mo slowly raised his head and looked at Homelander's radiant face on the screen.
"Good news."
He flexed his fingers, the corners of his mouth slowly rising.
"Looks like my golden finger has arrived."
As soon as he finished speaking, a muffled thud suddenly came from the alley behind him.
Then came a man's rough cursing, followed by a familiar cry for help.
Chen Mo glanced back.
Deep shadows filled the entrance to the alley. A few thugs were dragging the young man from earlier farther inside, and one of them had a gun tucked into his waistband.
The boy struggled to lift his head and met Chen Mo's gaze.
Chen Mo was silent for a moment. He looked down at his healed palm, then touched the water bottle.
"This damn place sure knows how to cause trouble."
He sighed, tossed the empty water bottle into a trash can, and turned toward the alley.
"Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt."
The thugs all turned around.
Chen Mo stood at the entrance to the alley, a very polite smile on his face.
"Do you know where I can find a free buffet around here?"