Vought Public Relations and Brand Management Department.
The entire floor was enveloped in a calm yet efficient frenzy.
The only sounds here are the rapid clatter of keyboard keys and Motoko Kusanagi's commands.
The daily news front page followed suit, using the headline "Hero or Thug?" to stimulate reader discussion.
Fox News assigned three commentators, whose stances were respectively sympathetic to the artist, condemning the violence, and questioning the lack of oversight of Metahuman.
"It's trending on our own website with keywords like: #SuperpoweredTerroristOrganization#, #AwakenedThreat#, and #ProtectOurChildren#."
Motoko Kusanagi's voice reached the ears of the person in charge at each node.
In her eyes, the entire public opinion arena was nothing more than a sandbox that could be precisely manipulated.
" The Sun anonymously leaked the record of ' Iron Armor Steel Fist ' (real name Carlos Rhodey ), who has been imprisoned three times for assault."
"And that guy who can spit out gold teeth, check his tax records."
"Yes, every single one. Completely transform them from 'victims' into 'criminals.'"
Under her command, a large net tightly bound the already loosely organized " Awakened Mutual Aid Society," and then began to tighten its grip and strangle them.
They are no longer "Awakened Ones," but rather a "Superpowered Terrorist Organization."
Their rescue operation was defined as a premeditated "terrorist attack".
8 PM, prime time.
Hannibal Lecter appeared on the nation's highest-rated talk show as a specially appointed criminal psychology expert at Vought International.
He wore a well-fitting charcoal gray suit, and his face carried a Scholar air of gentle refinement.
" Lecter, many people cannot understand why this Deconstructionist would respond in such an extreme way?"
Hannibal placed his fingers on his knees, leaned slightly forward, and looked earnestly at the camera.
"We need to make one thing clear first."
His voice was steady and magnetic, carrying a calming power.
"Before becoming Deconstructionist, Mr. Adrien Dubois was a brilliant architect, a loving husband and father to his wife and daughters."
"His world, along with the opera house he designed, was reduced to dust in a catastrophe caused by out-of-control forces."
"His behavior was not extreme, but rather an artistic expression of post-traumatic stress disorder."
"Artistic expression?"
The host seized upon this word.
"Yes."
Hannibal nodded slightly.
He projected his pain and sorrow onto the steel and cement.
"Those twelve intruders believed they were carrying out some kind of 'justice.' But in Mr. Dubois's perception, they were blasphemers, thugs who broke into his deceased wife's mortuary."
"That tombstone is neither a threat nor a display of force."
Hannibal's voice was low and filled with pity.
"It was a desperate act of self-defense. It was a broken soul, in the only way he knew, erecting a 'Do Not Disturb' sign before his own sacred place."
The image of a tragic artist driven to desperation by thugs leaps off the page.
The " Awakened Mutual Aid Society " is completely synonymous with violence, barbarity, and loss of control.
The forum of the " Awakened Mutual Aid Society " has been completely compromised.
The pinned post is no longer the philosophical prophecy of the " Prophet ".
The horrific state of Iron Armor Steel Fist and others made headlines.
Below is a scrolling list of insults and abuse.
"Liar! Coward! You're the one who killed them!"
"If you hadn't kept stopping us, we would have already recruited that artist as one of our own!"
"Slay a god? You can't even protect your comrades!"
The " Prophet " became the outlet for all anger and failure.
Internal suspicion and attacks are more deadly than external verbal attacks.
"Avenge Iron Armor Steel Fist!"
"Kill that monster!"
The Prophet must be held responsible for this!
They attributed the sacrifices of Iron Armor Steel Fist and others entirely to the Prophet's weakness and inaction.
Just then, a thin figure emerged from the dark pipe and scrambled to the " Prophet ".
It's Haozi.
He was soaking wet, and his face was filled with terror.
"A trap... it's a trap!"
His voice was shrill, trembling with tears.
"I sent my children... to that ruin..."
"There... there was no pain, no resentment, not even the slightest trace of a victim..."
" Haozi " was breathing heavily, its small eyes filled with unspeakable fear.
"Only... supreme destruction!"
A harsh laugh rang out.
"Enough, Haozi! Are you as scared as this charlatan?"
A tall, radical member stepped forward, his palms crackling with Spark.
"We only believe what we see! Carlos and the others are dead! Dead at the hands of that so-called artist! This revenge must be taken!"
"That's right! Revenge!"
" The Prophet must be held responsible!"
The radicals began to close in, their weapons pointed at their former comrades.
The Haozi stood in front of the Prophet, screaming desperately, "You're all insane! This is a trap set by those bastards! They want us to kill each other!"
"Get out of here! You cowardly rat!"
The man who was playing with the Spark shoved the Haozi away.
He stared intently at the silent figure in the corner.
"What about your prophecy? What about your plan?!"
All you do is hide in the Shadow and recite your nonsensical poetry!
He approached step by step, his emotions completely out of control.
"Because of your weakness, my brothers died!!"
The Prophet raised his head, his gaze piercing through the darkness of the tunnel to the distant world above.
So that's how it is...
He always believed that he was holding up a torch in the darkness, trying to lead a flock of lost sheep to the light.
But in the end, he realized...
He was leading nothing more than a pack of bloodthirsty Beast.
The torches failed to illuminate their path; instead, they ignited the madness in their very bones.
Deconstructionist are right too.
He saw the essence of it all.
And I, the one who tried to use ideals, order, and "mutual assistance" to fight against instinct, was the most ridiculous and naive one.
"Speak up!"
The burly man roared and punched the Prophet!
"Stop!"
"Protect the Prophet!"
The Prophet's supporters finally realized what was happening, roaring as they charged forward and grappled with the radicals.
Various out-of-control superpowers collide wildly in the narrow tunnel.
What was once a " Mutual Aid Society " has turned into a bloody arena.
The " Prophet " leaned against the wall, watching the ugly scene of infighting before him, and listening to the Beast- like roars of those who had once called him "leader."
An unprecedented realization overwhelmed him.
He was wrong.
That's completely wrong.
Vought doesn't need schemes or tricks.
They only need to give it a gentle push, and this sandcastle built from the anger and despair of the lower classes will crumble from the inside out.
Because sand is always just sand.
The Prophet suddenly gave a nasty smile.
"So... I was the one... the most despicable Joker after all."