Alex hesitated for only a moment before straightening up and clearing his throat.
Instantly, the entire scene fell silent.
Every reporter's gaze locked onto him, faces lit with excitement and disbelief.
They were actually interviewing Homelander—
something no one had ever expected to happen.
It was the scoop of a lifetime.
Today was worth it.
---
> "I'll say this one more time."
Facing the cameras, Alex spoke in a calm, almost conversational tone.
> "I, Homelander, will not allow criminals in Gotham."
"Anyone who dares to commit a crime—dies."
"Is that clear enough?"
---
It was as domineering as ever—
arrogant, absolute, and utterly unreasonable.
He'd said the same thing days ago,
but back then, few took him seriously.
Now?
No one doubted him anymore.
No one dared.
Not even Gotham's supervillains.
Because in just five days, Alex had silenced the city with nearly two hundred bodies.
And this latest display—his destruction of Mr. Freeze—
had been broadcast live across Gotham by dozens of media outlets.
He wasn't fighting common thugs anymore,
but a superpowered criminal.
And in doing so, Alex had demonstrated powers beyond comprehension—
laser vision, immunity to the Freeze Gun,
and even the terrifying ability to kill with nothing more than a wave of his hand.
Each one of these powers alone would make someone a "superhuman."
Alex possessed all of them.
To Gotham, Homelander was no longer a man.
He was a monster—
a ruthless, remorseless monster who killed without hesitation.
And who wouldn't fear a monster like that?
---
> "Homelander! Could you say a few more words?"
"Homelander, please! Just one question!"
"Homelander! I'm from Gotham TV—can I ask you—"
The silence shattered into chaos again as reporters shouted over one another.
But Alex only shook his head.
> "Sorry. I've said what I needed to say."
He had no interest in interviews.
His goal was accomplished.
He waved dismissively and turned to leave.
---
> "Homelander!"
A sharp voice cut through the noise.
> "You keep saying Gotham can't have criminals…
but don't you realize you are one yourself?"
The crowd froze.
Alex stopped mid-step.
Then slowly, he turned.
His gaze was like a blade—cold and merciless—
locking onto a well-dressed male reporter, mid-thirties, microphone trembling in his hand.
The air grew heavy.
Even the other journalists fell silent.
It was a bold question—
a dangerous one.
Because, in truth…
he wasn't wrong.
Homelander was a criminal.
A murderer, in fact.
A killer declaring that Gotham could have no killers—
wasn't that the height of hypocrisy?
For an ordinary man, that question would've been impossible to answer.
But Alex?
SLAP!
A sharp crack split the air.
Alex's hand lashed out in a blur, striking the reporter across the face.
Even holding back to a fraction of his strength,
the blow hit like a freight train.
The man flew backward like a ragdoll, crashing onto the pavement—
and didn't get up.
---
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Every reporter recoiled, eyes wide in horror.
He'd just hit a journalist.
In front of every live camera.
Was Homelander really that reckless?
Did he not care about provoking the media's wrath?
Everyone in Gotham knew—
the power of the press could destroy anyone, even the mighty Wayne Enterprises.
And yet Alex stood there, unbothered.
> "Don't play word games with me,"
he said quietly, his voice cutting like steel.
"Don't test me."
His tone wasn't loud,
but it pressed down on everyone like a mountain.
> "No one provokes me. No one."
"And don't make the mistake of thinking that just because I've only killed criminals lately,
that I'm some noble vigilante who won't harm the innocent."
> "If that's what you believe… you're dead wrong."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
Then, with an almost lazy smile, he said—
> "I never said I was a good man, did I?"
> "I'm simple. I have one rule:
You don't mess with me—I don't mess with you.
But if you cross me…
I'll repay it a hundredfold."
---
With that, Alex turned and began walking away.
The crowd instinctively parted,
a path opening through the sea of terrified reporters.
No one dared stop him.
No one even breathed too loud.
That single slap had made his point perfectly clear.
---
> "Homelander! Stop right there!"
"Homelander—you're under arrest!"
The shout came from the street.
The GCPD officers who had been revived from their frozen state by Batman
rushed forward, weapons raised, surrounding Alex.
A circle of black gun barrels aimed directly at his chest.
The tension was suffocating.
But the ones trembling…
weren't the unarmed man in the middle—
it was the officers themselves.
Every single cop could feel it:
the sheer dread of standing in front of a god.
Still, duty was duty.
If they backed down now—
if they let a mass killer walk free in front of the whole city—
then the Gotham Police Department would never recover its reputation.
They had to act, even if it meant certain death.
---
But Alex didn't even slow down.
He walked forward, calm and steady,
as if the ring of armed men around him didn't exist at all.
He lifted a hand casually.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
In an instant, a violent invisible force swept through the air like a hurricane.
Every officer was thrown back—
flying five, six meters through the air before crashing to the ground,
groaning in pain.
Not one could stand.
And through the wreckage,
Alex kept walking—
his cape rippling in the cold Gotham wind.
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