A-Train had changed dramatically in recent weeks, his speed increasing at an unprecedented rate—nearly double his previous velocity.
For superhumans of A-Train's caliber, such improvement was extraordinary. Their abilities already far exceeded normal human limits, making further enhancement incredibly difficult. Even minor improvements were rare; a near-doubling of power was theoretically impossible under normal circumstances.
The transformation couldn't be hidden. Vought International had noticed A-Train's enhanced performance and ordered comprehensive medical testing. Despite his reluctance, A-Train couldn't refuse company directives.
After all, their abilities came from Vought. The company that granted them superpowers naturally possessed methods to control them.
Forced to submit to examination, A-Train felt resentment toward Vought growing in his corrupted heart. He was the world's fastest superhuman—his speed was unmatched by anyone. He should be a noble leader ruling the world, not some corporate asset.
Yet here he was, being examined like a piece of equipment by these inferior beings, constantly probed and tested to determine the source of his improvement.
Patience. I'll become stronger soon. Even Homelander won't be able to stop me.
Among The Seven, A-Train feared Homelander most. The man was simply the most powerful among them—his abilities covered too broad a spectrum, overwhelming them in nearly every category.
Compared to their specialized powers, Homelander could crush any of them effortlessly. Whether A-Train, Queen Maeve, or any other member, Homelander could easily dominate them with his versatile skill set.
Homelander was Vought's most perfect superhuman creation—and A-Train's greatest obstacle.
As for Vought itself, while concerning, the company didn't inspire the same dread as facing Homelander. After all, Vought's executives were just ordinary humans.
"A-Train, your physical examination results show clear enhancement," the researcher announced. "Your body has been significantly strengthened."
For Vought, which specialized in superhuman management, detecting enhancement wasn't difficult. They'd identified recent Compound V injection, confirming his ability improvement through chemical augmentation.
This was relatively common among superhumans—some Compound V inevitably reached the black market. However, Vought researchers had never encountered enhancement of A-Train's magnitude. The near-doubling of his capabilities was unprecedented.
This was Vought's primary concern. They didn't care about his unauthorized drug use—they wanted to understand what had changed in him. If they could reverse-engineer this transformation, they could develop Compound V to make all their superhumans more powerful.
A-Train nodded slowly at the researcher's words, making no attempt to conceal his drug use. Previously, he might have worried about exposure leading to expulsion from The Seven. But now, with his greatly enhanced abilities, discovery didn't concern him.
His improved strength was his greatest defense. Moreover, he could feel his power continuing to grow steadily.
With this strength, he could gradually gain more influence until he controlled Vought itself and became ruler of the world.
A-Train carefully concealed these thoughts. Though his personality had changed fundamentally, he still tried to mask his true intentions. He needed to hide his ambitions while investigating everything that could threaten his ascension.
"This guy has quite the imagination!"
Marcus reclined on his stolen couch, speaking with amusement. A-Train's inner thoughts transmitted directly to him through the void energy corruption, providing entertaining insight into the speedster's grandiose delusions.
The corrupted A-Train's fantasies were elaborate—he envisioned himself as world emperor, surrounded by luxury and beautiful companions, swimming in pools filled with gold and diamonds while indulging every hedonistic desire.
His rich inner life played out like an adult film in Marcus's mind.
"As expected from a world so close to ordinary human nature. In the Marvel or DC universes, someone like this would simply be called a supervillain."
Marcus reached for fruit from the coffee table, eating casually while several metallic razor butterflies fluttered out the hotel window on gossamer wings edged with deadly blades.
He planned to add some excitement to these so-called superheroes' lives. Besides the superhumans, several other individuals had caught his attention.
This was the world of The Boys—and "The Boys" didn't refer to the superhumans who differed from ordinary people only in their powers. It referred to a small group of powerless individuals determined to fight The Seven and Vought Corporation itself.
"Go have some fun with the so-called Seven."
He was curious what would happen when the razor butterflies and A-Train's corruption disrupted The Seven's operations, and what response the actual Boys might mount.
The razor butterflies dispersed toward their respective targets, each carrying Marcus's special enchantments. When they encountered something noteworthy, they would alert him immediately, allowing him to intervene as needed.
Soon, a razor butterfly alighted near Vought Tower as a man hesitated on the sidewalk below before finally entering the building. The butterfly slipped through an office window, searching for both superhumans and members of the vigilante team. No location was more perfect than Vought's headquarters.
Flying through the corporate corridors, the razor butterfly encountered the same man who'd entered the building. He was hurrying toward the restroom, looking distinctly unwell.
The butterfly followed, perching on the bathroom's light fixture and disguising itself as decorative metalwork.
Hughie was incredibly nervous, anger burning in his chest even as he forced himself to remain calm for his confrontation with the unrepentant A-Train. The speedster had killed his girlfriend without showing any remorse—in fact, he'd complained that Robin had been "in the way."
Even during their recent meeting, A-Train had shown no regret. If anything, he'd acted like Hughie should be the one apologizing.
This shattered Hughie's last hope for justice. He wanted A-Train to pay the price, even if it cost him his own life.
Opening his phone's hidden compartment, a small black device fell to the floor. As he bent to retrieve it, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Panic seized him—he froze on the toilet seat, not daring to make a sound.
This was Vought Tower. If they discovered what he was planning, he might never leave the building alive.