Vought Tower.
The Seven's private lounge.
Chen Mo pushed open the door to the lounge.
A smell hit him. Somehow, the scent of disinfectant had forced its way into the nylon fragrance.
The lounge was lavishly furnished.
A pure wool carpet covered the floor, and his footsteps made no sound.
Enormous posters of the seven of them hung on the walls.
The lights were all set to a soft tone that made people's facial contours look more perfect.
All of it was arranged for the cameras that might appear at any moment.
Chen Mo walked over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of sugar-free soda water, and scanned the main room.
The Deep was holding a marine conservation magazine, muttering to a clownfish in the aquarium.
The look on his face made it seem as though he really were pouring his heart out to an old friend he hadn't seen in years.
But the guy's ability was more likely to be controlling schools of fish. Otherwise, fish brains shouldn't have supported conversation.
In another corner, Maeve sat on a leather sofa with a floor lamp behind her, holding half a glass of amber whiskey.
Her eyes were unfocused as she stared blankly at the patterns on the ceiling.
Without Homelander's oppressive presence,
the air in here could barely circulate.
Chen Mo pulled an armchair over and sat down, casually crossing his legs and resting them on the edge of the low table.
He spoke in A-Train's distinctively arrogant tone.
"Bro, if you keep staring, that fish is going to roll its eyes in disgust."
The Deep's hand shook, and the magazine nearly fell into the aquarium.
He turned around, forcing an awkward, strained smile as he hurriedly shoved the magazine behind his back.
"I'm just learning about its emotions, A-Train. Marine life is much more sensitive than humans."
Chen Mo took a sip of soda water.
"Really? Did it tell you it wants to jump out and slap you?"
Maeve sneered, then tipped her head back and drained her whiskey in one gulp.
"Maybe the fish just wants to ask him when he's going to stop donating that fishy dirty money to marine animal rescue organizations."
The Deep's face instantly turned a deep, purplish red.
His lips moved for a long moment as he tried to come up with a retort.
In the end, he only coughed twice and slunk over to the bar on the other side, pretending to look for ice.
Chen Mo leaned back in his chair, lightly tapping the glass with his fingertips.
The Blacklight Virus's emotional perception spread silently across the entire floor like an invisible net.
The Deep's emotions were a murky, muddy yellow.
They were full of insecurity, cowardice, and the anxiety of wanting to please everyone.
He was a complete pushover.
He could be crushed at any time, without even taking much effort.
As long as he was thrown somewhere without water, he wasn't much stronger than those second-rate guys at the club.
Maeve's emotions were a dull, dark purple.
Misanthropy, exhaustion, and deep self-loathing.
This woman was physically powerful. Among the Seven, her strength and defense were second only to Homelander's.
She was a slightly tougher nut to crack.
But as long as he got a hold on her weakness, or waited until she was dead drunk, devouring her wouldn't be difficult either.
As for Homelander,
that walking nuclear reactor wasn't on this floor right now.
Chen Mo looked away.
He noticed someone was missing.
Translucent wasn't there.
At the meeting that morning, the guy had been hiding in a corner making snide remarks, but now he was nowhere to be seen.
Remembering Translucent's probing remark from last night, Chen Mo grew wary.
A faint tingle ran through his nerve endings.
Someone pushed open the door to the executive corridor.
Ashley hurried in on her high heels, clutching a tablet, her expression as if the sky were falling.
"A-Train! Come look at this!"
Ashley rushed over to the sofa, one finger frantically twirling the blond hair at her temple.
Her voice was so shrill it cracked.
"The news that you were injured yesterday had been out for less than two hours when that damned Shockwave posted a video on Twitter!"
Chen Mo put down his glass and dug a finger in his ear.
"Relax, Ashley. It's not like my approval rating dropped. What did Shockwave say?"
Ashley shoved the tablet in Chen Mo's face.
On the screen was a young man in a bright yellow suit.
He bared his white teeth at the camera in an aggressive smile.
"Listen, I have the deepest sympathy for A-Train over the attack he suffered. He was once a great hero, but New York needs a faster protector. If he recovers, I'm ready to race him on the track anytime and show everyone who's really number one in the world."
Chen Mo watched the screen, an amused smile curling his lips.
So the plot's corrective force had been waiting for him here.
In the original show, Hughie's girlfriend had been killed when A-Train ran into her, setting off a series of PR crises.
To appease the public and put pressure on the increasingly outmatched A-Train, Vought's executives had brought Shockwave out as a backup.
Now,
Chen Mo hadn't killed anyone, and had even saved Hughie and Robin in passing.
But the logic behind Vought's executives' capital maneuvering hadn't changed.
They believed A-Train had been injured in the attack at the club and his prestige had suffered.
It was the perfect opportunity to push a newcomer to the top and generate buzz and ratings.
Shockwave was the catfish they had tossed into the pond.
Ashley took a deep breath and lowered her voice.
"The higher-ups are very happy with how much discussion this is generating. PR thinks we should go with the flow and accept the challenge for you. We'll arrange a major track-and-field event next month."
"You need to prove to the world that you're not old yet, and Vought needs a show."
"Listen, you have to win this race. If you lose, he might take your place in the Seven, understand?"
The Deep snickered over at the bar.
Maeve kept staring at the ceiling, as if none of this had anything to do with her.
Chen Mo stood up, put his hands in his pockets, and looked down at the agitated Ashley.
There was no worry on his face, only A-Train's arrogant disregard for everyone else.
"Tell that knockoff A-Train I accept."
"And tell the business department to charge more for the broadcast rights, because this race will be over fast. The audience won't even have time to gasp."
Ashley froze for a moment, and her tightly furrowed brow eased a little.
"Good. Keep up that confidence, and remember to show it in front of the cameras too. I'll go arrange the press release right away."
She hurried off in her high heels.
Chen Mo rolled his neck, and his joints cracked sharply.
He looked at Maeve and The Deep.
"I'd better go warm up in the training room. Wouldn't want to run so fast that I completely crush the kid's confidence."
The Deep raised the soda water in his hand in a perfunctory salute.
"Good luck, bro."
Chen Mo turned and walked out of the lounge.
The moment the door closed, the arrogant smile vanished from his face.
In its place was an icy chill.
A challenge race?
To him, that was takeout delivered right to his door.
After devouring the original A-Train and strengthening himself with several doses of concentrated Compound V, his speed had long since surpassed A-Train's by a wide margin.
If anything, he could call himself High-Speed Train now.
Shockwave? Who was this random nobody? High-Speed Train was coming through to beat him in an instant.
Chen Mo entered the elevator and pressed the button for the underground parking garage.
The elevator doors slowly closed, and the numbers descended at a steady pace.
The only sound in the cramped space was the faint hum of the machinery.
Chen Mo leaned against the wall of the elevator with his eyes closed, as if resting.
But his emotional perception caught a patch of color hovering toward the front left of the car.
It was a glaring orange, tinged with probing, suspicion, and excitement.
Translucent.
This pervert with carbon metamaterial skin didn't just like peeping into women's bathrooms. Now he actually dared to target Chen Mo.
Chen Mo's expression didn't change. He merely pondered.
He didn't get a satisfactory result from probing me this morning, so this guy decided to follow me himself?
Does Translucent have that much time on his hands?
Maybe I can find a way to kill him.
His carbon skin really was incredibly tough, enough to stop armor-piercing bullets.
But against the Blacklight Virus's corrosive fluid and hammerfist, that toughness wasn't much greater than a walnut shell's.
Ding.
The elevator reached the underground garage.
The doors slid open to either side.
Chen Mo opened his eyes and walked out of the car, whistling as if he hadn't noticed a thing.
Behind him, Translucent silently followed.
Who was the hunter, and who was the prey?