The drone's speaker was not very loud.
But in the wasteland that had just been plowed over by flames and explosions, Edgar's words, "the second offer," came through more clearly than a missile striking the ground.
Chen Mo stood at the edge of the fire pit, the black-and-red flesh beneath his feet still slowly withdrawing.
The last few superhuman soldiers had been completely devoured, leaving only twisted firearms and scorched tactical vests scattered across the shattered highway.
Flames flowed along his shoulder armor, sending up sparks from time to time.
Chen Mo looked down at the half-destroyed drone and raised an eyebrow.
"Is this how hardcore you people at Vought are when you do business?" He raised a foot and kicked some debris aside, his tone casual. "Send a few missiles to your guest first, then ask if he wants to buy in?"
The drone's camera turned slightly, a red light flickering inside its charred casing.
Through the speaker, Edgar's voice remained steady, betraying none of the embarrassment of a failed manhunt.
"If an asset demonstrates greater-than-expected value in a stress test, making a revised offer is the most basic business courtesy."
Chen Mo chuckled.
"A stress test?"
He glanced at the collapsed highway in the distance, then at the half of a cape in the fire pit.
"You call Homelander leading a team to surround and kill me a stress test? You sure know how to name things."
Edgar did not argue.
He even paused for half a second, as if giving Chen Mo time to digest the statement.
"Homelander has never been the whole company," Edgar said. "He is merely a product that could become obsolete at any time. And after tonight, the board will understand that more clearly."
The smile on Chen Mo's face faded a little.
The old bastard really wasn't pretending.
Homelander had just been beaten into retreat, Black Noir had been left half-crippled, Lamplighter was in Chen Mo's stomach, and Stormfront had nearly been left here too.
A normal person would have been angry, afraid, or at least cursed a couple of times.
Edgar did none of those things.
He was as calm as if he were looking at a financial report with freshly updated figures, calm enough to send a chill down a person's spine.
"So?" Chen Mo rolled his neck, the bone spikes on his back gently opening and closing. "For this second offer, are you planning to throw in a couple of extra chicken legs?"
"You would become part of Vought's management."
Edgar answered quickly.
"You could become a security consultant to Vought International, a shareholder in special projects, or a behind-the-scenes partner. You may choose the title, and we will determine your authority together."
Chen Mo narrowed his eyes.
Edgar continued, "You would not need to stand in front of cameras like The Seven, nor would you need to attend any tedious press conferences. The company would provide you with laboratories, samples, a legal identity, funding channels, and more food."
"Oh?"
"Some bad products are due to be phased out anyway." Edgar's tone did not change. "The difference is that we used to have to handle the aftermath ourselves. Now we can make the process a win-win."
Chen Mo couldn't help clicking his tongue.
"The way you put it, I sound like some company's outsourced cleaner, or the final stop for garbage disposal."
"No one would dare see you that way. If you dislike those terms, we could also call it a strategic partnership."
Edgar sounded perfectly serious.
For a moment, Chen Mo had no response.
He had met shameless people before.
But there really weren't many who could be so natural and considerate about it.
Chen Mo glanced down at the drone's camera and suddenly smiled.
"I'm starting to wonder if you've forgotten that just a few minutes ago, you were trying to blow me to ashes."
"I haven't."
Edgar's voice came from the drone, as measured as ever.
"That was risk management after the first offer failed. It did not succeed, so we chose to move on to the next stage."
"You call this the next stage?"
"Yes."
Chen Mo: 6.
If this old man sold insurance, his customers would probably ask whether they could upgrade their plans right after getting hit by a car.
He did not immediately crush the drone.
Black-and-red tendrils slithered around his feet like a few restless snakes, but they never touched the camera.
Chen Mo wanted to see what else Edgar had to tempt him with.
Edgar seemed to know it too.
He did not press him, threaten him, or try to use the military or the government to pressure him.
Because those things were already worthless tonight.
"You've been in contact with Starlight these past few days," Edgar suddenly said. "And The Female as well."
Chen Mo's eyes shifted slightly.
The drone's camera caught that tiny reaction.
Edgar's voice remained calm, but it was like a scalpel cutting into a gap.
"Starlight can remain in The Seven, or she can be freed from all unnecessary work assignments starting today. The company can handle her contract, the risks to her public image, and her family relationships."
Chen Mo said nothing.
"The same goes for The Female," Edgar said. "None of her current troubles are truly troubles. They simply lack the right person to reassess their value for her."
Chen Mo looked down at the drone.
"Are those your bargaining chips?"
"No," Edgar corrected him. "The term 'bargaining chips' is too crude. They are the parts of your existing relationship network most easily affected by external variables."
Chen Mo's mouth twitched.
"Speak like a human being."
"I believe you care whether they are harmed," Edgar said. "That is interesting, and valuable."
There was not a trace of mockery in the drone's speaker.
Yet it sounded all the colder for its absence.
In Edgar's eyes, Chen Mo's anger, his bottom line, and even that bit of goodwill he was unwilling to acknowledge were not emotions.
They were parameters.
Data that could be calculated, labeled, and written onto a price sheet.
Chen Mo looked at him and suddenly gave a quiet chuckle.
"Old Ai, you're really cut out to be a boss."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
That left Chen Mo at a loss for words.
This old bastard won't listen to reason. I really ought to hit him a couple of times.
He raised a hand and wiped the remaining ash from his face. Blacklight tissue wriggled along his fingertips, quickly swallowing the charred marks back up.
The depletion within his body was still recovering.
Tonight's ambush had been somewhat troublesome.
But Edgar was more troublesome than any of it.
He had no power, yet he knew how to put power on a shelf.
"If you want security, we can discuss it," Edgar said. "If you want resources, we can discuss those. If you want laboratories, samples, researchers, or complete operational independence, those are also open to discussion."
"Sounds pretty generous."
"Because you are worth that price."
Edgar paused, and at last a subtle weight entered his tone.
"No matter how strong one person is, it's impossible to handle everything well. You can kill a squad, defeat Homelander, or even defeat several armies outright. But clearing the battlefield, erasing traces, manipulating the media, reassuring the public, or, for that matter, making the world a better place-those things require people too."
Chen Mo glanced around.
The bodies were gone.
The fire pit remained.
The drone wreckage, missile fragments, collapsed highway, scorch marks left by energy blasts, and half of the cape Homelander had left behind in his escape were all still there.
It really would be hard to cover up.
"Are you saying I'm not a professional?"
"I'm saying your specialty is predation," Edgar said mildly. "And Vought's specialty is making predation legal."
Chen Mo fell silent for two seconds.
"There's something to that."
"Facts usually carry weight."
Edgar continued, "If you want to reshape this world according to your own ideas, killing alone is not enough. A killing machine can only rule the world through fear, but that can never last. Whatever you want to do, the company, its channels, and its connections can help you, letting others wrap dirty deeds in clean packaging for you."
The night wind swept across the wasteland, pressing the flames low for a moment.
Chen Mo looked at the bloodstained piece of armor by his feet, then suddenly raised his foot and gently stepped on it.
The metal made a sound as it deformed.
"After all this fighting," he said with a low chuckle, "you still think we can negotiate?"
"Precisely because of all this fighting, the offer is worth revising."
Edgar answered quickly.
"Before tonight, you were a potential threat. After tonight, you are a variable capable of forcing anyone in the world to restructure their strategy. Variables cannot be controlled, but they can be worked with. It took Homelander many years to make the board accept that. You took only one night."
Chen Mo raised his head.
The drone's charred camera faced him like an eye without a lid.
"What if I don't cooperate?"
"Then we will continue to make offers."
Chen Mo was taken aback.
Edgar said calmly, "Until the cost of refusing is greater than the cost of accepting."
There was no threat in his tone.
But the words were full of threats.
Not the crude threat of tearing him apart like Homelander would make, but something quieter.
Identity, public opinion, relationships, the law, the military, financial accounts-every rope that civilized society could name would be handed over by this company, one by one.
Chen Mo lowered his head and laughed.
"You capitalists are really scary. A lot more sinister than Homelander."
"Homelander is a child who needs constant reassurance," Edgar said. "But you are different. You have the capacity to learn, you know restraint, and you have clear boundaries. Those qualities are more important than your ability to devour."
The smile slowly left Chen Mo's face.
Edgar did not stop.
"Most importantly, you are not a pure disaster or some monster devoid of humanity. Otherwise, there would be no one left alive in this wasteland tonight."
At that, Chen Mo's gaze turned completely cold.
The old bastard had seen him too clearly.
He really had not spread Blacklight, nor had he dragged back and eaten the few logistics personnel who had fled in the distance.
It wasn't that he couldn't.
He didn't want to.
They were only doing a job for a fixed wage. There was no need to chase them down and kill them all.
And Edgar had factored that in too.
"So joining us is the better choice."
Edgar's voice echoed across the wasteland.
"You won't have to dirty your own hands, and everything in this world will open its doors to you, for you to enjoy."
Chen Mo looked down at the drone's camera, the smile fading from his face bit by bit.
Black-and-red tendrils crept across the ground to the camera, their tips hovering gently in front of it like needles poised against an eyeball.
Edgar said nothing. He was still waiting.
Only the sound of burning flames remained in the wasteland.
Chen Mo stared at the camera for a few seconds, then suddenly grinned.
"I won't sign this offer just yet."
The tendrils tightened slightly.
A fine crack appeared on the camera's surface.
"But you can keep raising it."
The next second, the drone was completely wrapped in black-and-red flesh.
A moment before the connection cut out, Edgar's steady voice rang out again.
"I will."