Chapter 11 Hughie was breaking down; this was not a superhero at all.
Line of sight pierced through the concrete.
Past the old sheet-metal power distribution cabinet.
Two red beams accurately slammed into the three people inside the electrical room.
That was not light.
That was two red-hot branding irons suspended above their foreheads.
Hughie could not hold on any longer.
His kneecaps heavily smashed into the shattered glass all over the floor. He could not feel the pain.
Warm liquid gushed out from the root of his thighs. A large patch of his light-blue jeans was soaked, sticking tightly to his skin and flesh.
A pungent smell of urine spread through the enclosed space, mixing into the thick gunsmoke.
He grabbed his messy hair with both hands. His fingernails clawed through his scalp.
His chin clattered spasmodically, and his teeth bit through the tip of his tongue.
The taste of rust spread in his mouth.
Frenchie threw away his gun.
The metal grip of that silenced pistol was already too hot to hold.
The fine hair on the back of his hand curled and scorched, emitting a burnt stench.
He scrambled and cowered into the corner of the wall, trying to stay further away from that iron door.
It was useless.
Shen Che stood in the center of the ruins dozens of meters away.
He did not take a step forward.
The red glow in his eye sockets was blindingly bright.
The surrounding air began to distort, like the heatwaves on an asphalt road at noon in summer.
The electrical room turned into an oven.
The thick sheet-metal door turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The green paint along the edges of the door seam swelled into blisters one by one.
With a "pop" sound, they burst open. The scorched smell of chemical plastic rushed straight to their heads.
Butcher leaned against the wall, panting heavily.
What was inhaled was not oxygen, but hand after hand of red-hot blades.
His trachea burned with pain.
Sweat had just popped out from his forehead, only to be instantly evaporated by the high temperature.
The skin on his cheeks was taut and shiny, as if it was about to split open.
"Cough, cough-cough..." Hughie covered his throat and dry-heached.
Not a trace of cool air could be drawn into his lungs.
The feeling of suffocation was like an invisible hand, tightly pinching his neck.
The image in front of his eyes began to double.
"Butcher."
A voice rang out beside their ears.
It was not an air echo coming from across the ruins.
But directly pressed against their eardrums, like someone whispering while leaning on their shoulders.
Shen Che stood in place.
The muscles of his vocal cords slightly adjusted. The voice directionally penetrated the obstacles, accurately pouring into the brains of these three people.
The volume was not loud. It could be considered moderate.
But it shook Butcher's skull with a sharp pain, making his eardrums buzz.
"Frenchie. And that..."
Shen Che paused for a moment, seemingly recalling the name.
"The appliance salesman, Hughie."
Hughie covered his ears tightly with both hands.
It was useless.
That voice was pervasive, echoing directly within the crevices of their bones.
"Do you guys feel like you are standing on the moral high ground of this game?"
Shen Che's voice was unhurried.
"Hot-blooded mortals, holding a few pieces of broken explosives, coming to judge the high-and-mighty corrupt heroes."
"Quite hot-blooded."
"And then?"
The temperature in the electrical room approached sixty degrees.
Frenchie tore open his collar, his fingernails scratching a few bloody streaks on his chest. He desperately opened his mouth wide to breathe.
A wheezing sound like an old bellows came from his throat.
Hughie slumped flat on the ground like a dehydrated frog.
"You guys got one thing wrong."
Shen Che looked towards the electrical room. The red light illuminated more than half of his face.
"I am not a marionette produced on Vought's assembly line."
"Nor am I the kind of idiot you think would shout 'with great power comes great responsibility'."
Butcher gritted his teeth. His hand groped for the tactical dagger on his calf.
The hilt was so hot it was like it had just been picked out from a stove.
He forced back the pain and forcefully pulled the knife out.
The palms of his hands were full of blisters from the heat, and his skin and flesh stuck to the knife handle.
"What kind of monster are you..." Butcher squeezed a few words out from between his teeth.
His voice was as hoarse as sandpaper grinding iron.
He held up the knife, aiming at that blurry red light outside the door seam.
"Did you hear it?" Shen Che chuckled lightly.
Superhearing allowed him to hear Butcher's weak curse crystal clear.
Even with collapsed floor slabs and dozens of meters of distance in between.
"I don't talk about justice. I don't talk about rules."
Shen Che's speech slowed down. Every word was like a hammer pounding on their hearts.
"You expect to use morality to kidnap me? To destroy me with media public opinion?"
"Or do you expect those firecrackers from just now that weren't even enough to warm me up?"
The room temperature exceeded seventy degrees.
Hughie's vision completely blurred, and the whites of his eyes were covered in bloodshot veins.
The urine-soaked crotch at this moment became the only source of moisture, emitting a pungent hot vapor of ammonia.
But he no longer had the strength to feel disgusted.
His brain suffered from severe hypoxia, and his consciousness wandered on the verge of coma.
"I only care about interests. And my mood."
Shen Che's voice was as cold and hard as a lump of ice.
Appearing exceptionally absurd in this high-temperature hell.
"I don't save people. I only keep useful dogs."
"I have no bottom line. Even less do I have the weaknesses arranged in your script."
"In my eyes, you guys aren't even counted as an appetizer."
Butcher gripped the dagger, wanting to stand up.
His thigh muscles twitched. Just as he got halfway up, he heavily fell back down.
The back of his head knocked against the wall bricks, cracking open a cut.
Before the blood could flow far, it was dried and scabbed over by the high temperature.
Despair.
Pure despair.
Couldn't be blown to death. Couldn't be penetrated. Couldn't even get close.
In Butcher's single eye, the flames of revenge were sucked dry bit by bit by this unsolvable high temperature.
The entity opposite was not a human.
It was a deity draped in human skin.
Shen Che felt bored.
The struggle of these few mortals was too ugly.
The cat-and-mouse game had played out about enough here.
He slightly tilted his head.
The temperature on his retinas surged again.
The red light in his eye sockets turned from dark red to a blinding bright white.
The sheet-metal gate of the electrical room finally could not hold out anymore.
A region in the middle began to melt.
Molten iron flowed down the door panel, dripping onto the cement floor and scalding out sizzling white smoke.
Only a thin layer of sheet metal was left.
As long as two more seconds passed.
The high-heat rays would completely penetrate the iron door.
Instantly roasting the three people hiding inside, along with those transformers, into a pile of bone ashes emitting a scorched stench.
Right at this moment.
At the garage entrance, a fierce wind suddenly rose.
The wind speed was too fast, whipping up the cement dust and shattered glass on the ground.
Forming a grey tornado visible to the naked eye.
The piercing alarm sound was directly torn apart by the sound of the wind.
A blue afterimage smashed through the surviving toll gates on the periphery.
The speed was so fast that it brought up a sharp sonic boom.
A few discarded paper boxes on the ground were blown into mid-air by the air wave, instantly torn into fragments.
The afterimage did not slow down.
Heading straight for the ruins in the center of the garage.
The soles of the specially-made running shoes rubbed against the ground, and there was an extra pungent smell of scorched rubber in the air.
Blue-and-white uniform. Wearing specially-made goggles on top of his head.
The Seven, A-Train.
Relying on his invincible speed, he ran in right on schedule.
Wanting to snatch the prime credit for dealing with the intruders in front of the CEO.
Chapter 12: A-Train running fast? I can snap his legs just by walking.
The violent wind whipped up shattered glass from the ground, pattering heavily against the iron door of the power distribution room.
A blue afterimage, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, cut straight into the ruins of the underground garage.
Specially made running shoes scraped against the rough concrete floor.
A pungent smell of burning rubber instantly permeated the air.
Inside the power distribution room, the dark red on the iron door faded.
Butcher collapsed heavily onto the ground. The tactical dagger in his hand clattered to the floor.
He panted heavily, his lungs aching as if being pricked by needles.
Just a little bit more. The door panel had almost been melted through by the high-heat rays just now.
The temperature had dropped now. That deadly red light outside was gone.
Hughie lay prone beside the transformer, struggling to turn over.
Frenchie let go of his hair-clutching hands and opened his eyes.
The three of them looked out through the crack in the door.
In the center of the ruins, Shen Che put away his Heat Vision.
The temperature in his eye sockets receded, and the red glow in the depths of his eyes vanished.
He turned his head, watching that blue shadow sprinting wildly among the broken walls and ruins.
A-Train's heart was pounding wildly with excitement.
Blood roared in his veins like a pile driver.
Today in the ninth-floor conference room, he had been scared out of his wits by Shen Che. The image of crushing Translucent to death with his bare hands was engraved in his mind.
But after running to the first floor, he came to his senses.
This was an opportunity.
The new boss had just taken power, and always needed the dogs under him to do dirty work.
Killing a few ignorant ordinary people was his specialty.
Although the president was strong and could release heat rays, his speed definitely couldn't keep up with him.
As long as he killed those three bomb-planting attackers first, he could show off big time in front of the president.
Maybe he could even ask for a higher-purity compound v.
A-Train ran around the ruins.
One circle. Two circles. Ten circles.
The afterimages connected into a blue ring, surrounding Shen Che right in the middle.
The airflow was torn apart by the high-speed movement. A violent wind rose on flat ground.
Ashes, gravel, and half-burned bumpers were all swept up into mid-air.
Forming a dozen-meter-high gray cyclone.
"Boss!"
A-Train's voice came from all directions.
Stretched somewhat out of tune by the extreme speed, carrying undisguised flattery and smugness.
"Leave this dirty work to me! I am the fastest man in the World!"
He felt he was awesome.
While running, he even had time to fish out a piece of new chewing gum from his pocket.
Unwrapping the wrapper with one hand, tossing it into his mouth, chewing until the sweetness came out.
He wanted to show off this invincible Mach number in front of this new master.
The speed was still increasing.
The dust on the driveway completely blocked the vision.
Butcher in the power distribution room gritted his teeth, his hand groping on the ground for the dropped dagger.
Troubles came one after another. That lunatic in the blue tights was coming to cut their throats.
Shen Che stood in the eye of the wind.
The hem of his high-end custom suit fluttered loudly in the wind.
A few small pebbles caught in the wind smashed against his face.
Bouncing off. Falling into a puddle.
Not even leaving a red mark.
Shen Che frowned slightly.
He felt it was very noisy.
Under his super hearing, the howling of the wind, the piercing sound of the afterimages, and even the smacking sound of A-Train chewing gum.
Were all mixed together.
Like a thousand greenbottles buzzing around his ears.
Shen Che blinked once.
Eyelids opening and closing.
Just this single instant.
Silver Age Superman's neural reaction speed activated at full power.
The World suddenly changed.
As if poured into a large vat of nearly solidifying glue.
The wind stopped.
The cement dust and broken glass in mid-air hovered in place, like a shoddy static texture map.
In the crack of the power distribution room door, a drop of blood dripping from Hughie's nose tip hung suspended in mid-air.
Maintaining the shape stretched into a teardrop, stubbornly unable to fall to the ground.
The air no longer flowed. All sounds were infinitely stretched.
Shen Che rolled his eyeballs.
Looking at the so-called "fastest man in the World".
A-Train's movements were excruciatingly slow.
In Shen Che's eyes, he was like a fat man struggling to trudge through waist-deep mire.
Lifting a leg, taking a step, putting it down.
Every movement was stuttered and laborious.
Beneath the goggles, that face stained with black ash was flushed red due to high-speed hypoxia.
The cheek muscles trembled with every step.
At the corner of his mouth, there was even a shred of unchewed white sugar thread.
Shen Che could even see clearly the bead of sweat slowly oozing out on his forehead.
"Too slow."
Shen Che spoke in a low voice.
This sound couldn't be transmitted out at all in the relatively stationary space.
He didn't want to stand in place and wait for this fly to finish flying its circles.
Boring to the extreme.
He took a step with his right leg.
The fabric of his suit trousers rubbed. The soles of his leather shoes stepped on the hard cement ground.
This was originally an ordinary walking action.
But under Silver Age Superman's muscle explosion, which was enough to tear dimensions, he directly crossed the physical distance.
The speed was so fast that he didn't even bother to leave an afterimage.
He stepped forward.
Just this single step.
Stepped right in front of the "perfect runway" planned by A-Train.
Firmly blocking that only path.
In A-Train's retina.
Shen Che had clearly been standing in the center of the wind eye. Still five meters away from him.
He was still calculating to run two more laps before rushing into the power distribution room.
He didn't see how the other party moved at all.
His eyes blurred.
A tall man in a black suit came right up to his face.
The distance was less than half a meter.
The texture of the suit tie was clearly visible.
A-Train's brain crashed on the spot.
The ultimate reaction time brought by the Speed Force was completely insufficient at this moment.
He wanted to hit the brakes. His leg muscles contracted desperately.
But the huge inertia of nearly three thousand kilometers per hour couldn't be stopped at all.
He couldn't even change direction.
He could only watch himself, like an out-of-control high-speed rail, crashing straight into that humanoid tall wall.
Panic instantly crawled all over his face.
Shen Che looked at that face distorted by fear.
Without taking half a step back.
He casually stretched out his right hand.
Without striking any combat stance. Nor exerting or gathering strength.
Just like going to the vegetable market to pick a winter melon, giving it a casual shove.
Opening his five fingers, he grabbed towards A-Train's right thigh.
The action was casual to the extreme.
The moment of contact.
The World began to flow again.
The aerospace-grade carbon fiber uniform developed by Vought Company at a heavy cost was as brittle as a piece of thin paper under Shen Che's fingers.
The sound of the fabric tearing was covered up by the huge kinetic energy.
Shen Che's five fingers embedded into A-Train's thigh muscles without any obstruction.
Crushing the subcutaneous fat, locking onto that thick femur tightly.
The huge kinetic energy found an outlet at this moment.
A-Train's upper body was still rushing forward frantically at a speed of three thousand kilometers per hour.
But his right leg was grabbed by an iron hand welded in place.
This hand didn't even have a trace of tremor.
The common sense of mechanics presented a cruel picture.
A-Train's knee joint collapsed first.
The meniscus and cartilage shattered instantly, making a teeth-gritting explosion.
Then came the thigh bone.
The huge torque made this hardest bone in the human body unable to withstand the pull.
Crack.
The crisp snapping sound was even louder than the double-kick firecrackers set off during the New Year.
The white bone shards directly pierced through the skin and flesh.
Pierced through the blue tights, exposed to the air with blood threads.
This was not the end.
The inertia of the upper body brought A-Train's whole body into violent rotation in mid-air.
Like an out-of-control top whose pull cord was tugged by a child.
Due to losing balance, his left leg whipped heavily against the ruins of the nearby load-bearing column.
The steel bars didn't budge at all.
The left calf bone broke into three sections on the spot. The sole of the foot flipped outward at an eerie right angle.
Fresh blood was flung into mid-air like a fountain.
Splattering all over the ground.
Shen Che's hand was still gripping that piece of thigh skin and flesh.
Standing in place, the soles of his leather shoes did not rub a trace of mark on the ground.
A-Train's two legs were coiled together by this terrifying strangling force.
Twisted together into a bloody, mangled dead knot like twisting dough twists.
Speed reduced to zero.
Inertia exhausted.
That pig-slaughtering miserable scream only then rushed out from A-Train's throat.
Shen Che loosened his fingers.
Casually flicking off the blood droplets stuck to his fingertips.
A-Train crashed heavily onto the dust-filled ground, hugging his twisted, dough-twist-like legs tightly with both hands, rolling and wailing miserably in the ruins.
Chapter 13: Replacing Superman, I decided to completely take control of The Seven
Not a single wisp of wind could penetrate the iron door cracks of the power distribution room.
Dead silence.
Hughie forgot to breathe.
His lungs swelled with a painful ache. He opened his mouth and retched up a mouthful of yellow water mixed with stomach acid.
The stench of urine was baked by the high temperature of the garage, evaporated along his trouser legs, and rushed straight to his head.
His hands clutched tightly at the gaps in the floor tiles, his fingernails curling back and bleeding.
He dared not close his eyes.
In the ruins dozens of meters away, everything had stopped.
It wasn't that the wind had stopped.
It was that blue-and-white tight-suited afterimage that had been forcibly halted.
A-Train's two thighs were twisted together like a braided dough twist.
The ghastly white bone stubs pierced through the tight suit, jutting obliquely into the air.
Blood trickled down his trouser legs, hitting the rubble with a drip-drop sound.
Butcher clung to the base of the wall, his body sliding down along the iron cabinet.
The heavy tactical dagger slipped from his hand.
Clang. It clattered onto the concrete floor.
He didn't go to pick it up. That single bloodshot eye stared fixedly at the man in the black suit in the center of the ruins.
There was no way to fight.
This wasn't a battle at all.
Directional high-explosive C4 hadn't even singed the collar corners of his shirt.
Before his side even stepped out the door, they were driven to a dead end by that kind of high-temperature ray capable of melting through iron doors.
In the center of the ruins.
Shen Che loosened his fingers.
With a muffled bang, A-Train smashed into a puddle of muddy water.
The screams instantly tore through the silence of the garage.
"Ah—— My legs! My legs!"
A-Train hugged that pile of minced meat with both hands, rolling frantically in the dirty water.
His blue goggles were smashed, and glass shards pierced into his right brow bone.
Blood blurred one of his eyes.
Shen Che took out the handkerchief from his pocket.
He wiped the bloodstains on his right index finger and casually threw the handkerchief onto A-Train's face.
The white cloth was instantly dyed red.
He didn't glance at the power distribution room.
The intimidation just now was enough.
A few sewer rats, kept, would still be useful later.
He turned around and bent over.
Shen Che stretched out his left hand and grabbed the collar of A-Train's uniform on his back.
A person weighing over two hundred catties was as light as an empty mineral water bottle in his hands.
His knees bent slightly.
The hard asphalt ground collapsed with a roar, stepping out a half-meter-deep cobweb-like crater.
Gravel flew everywhere.
The sonic boom exploded in the enclosed Underground Room.
It shattered the remaining few sensor lights.
Holding the screaming A-Train, Shen Che shot up like a retrograde cannonball.
He directly smashed through the ventilation shaft at the top of the garage.
He crashed through the two-meter-thick waterproof layer and reinforced concrete slabs.
Breaking through the ground, he soared straight up into the clouds.
* * *
Vought Tower. Floor ninety-nine.
Core conference room.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was the bustling night view of New York. Neon lights merged into a sea of light.
The door of the conference room had just been replaced with a new one. The walnut varnish smell had not yet dissipated.
In front of the ten-meter-long mahogany table, the remaining few people sat very scattered.
Queen Mei leaned against the back of her chair smoking.
The ash had accumulated a long section, tottering precariously.
The Deep held a silver nail file in his hand, scraping off the dead skin on his thumb stroke by stroke.
The fishy smell drifted in the air conditioning, somewhat pungent.
Starlight sat in the chair at the very end, her hands tightly twisted together, her knuckles turning white.
In the corner, Black Noir stood like a black iron statue, motionless.
No one spoke.
The image of Translucent dying in the women's restroom pierced into everyone's mind like a nail.
The new president named Shen Che was a madman without a bottom line.
They were all waiting.
Waiting for the remnant faction of President Stan to counterattack, or waiting for the Military to come and manage this monster.
A violent wind suddenly arose.
The bulletproof glass curtain wall on the right suddenly emitted a teeth-aching squeezing sound.
Boom!
The entire glass wall shattered without warning.
The violent wind whipped up glass shards, smashing into the conference room like a rainstorm.
Queen Mei instinctively raised her arm to block her face.
The burning cigarette butt burned the back of her hand, leaving a red mark. She gritted her teeth and made no sound.
The Deep trembled with fright and slid down from the leather chair.
He landed flat on his buttocks on the thick carpet.
His green scales scraped against the table legs, creaking.
Shen Che walked in from the night wind.
His black suit was stained with moisture from outside.
His leather shoes stepped on the broken glass.
Click. Click.
He walked to the very front end of the mahogany conference table.
He flicked his left hand.
Bang!
A bloody, mangled mass of flesh heavily smashed into the exact center of the table.
The ten-centimeter-thick solid wood tabletop was forcibly cracked open.
Fresh blood burst open like a balloon filled with water.
It splashed radially in all directions.
A few scalding blood droplets flew over, splashing onto Queen Mei's side face.
Carrying a heavy stench of blood.
The Deep had just crawled halfway up from the ground.
A section of broken leg bone slid past the tip of his nose, hitting a teacup.
Water spilled all over the floor.
The Deep saw clearly what that mass on the table was.
The blue-and-white uniform was soaked dark red by blood.
A-Train.
That superhero who was still showing off his speed a few minutes ago was lying prone on the mahogany table.
His two legs could no longer be called legs.
The bones were shattered into dregs, and the skin and flesh were tangled together like tattered cloth strips.
"Save... save me..."
A-Train spat out bloody red foam from his mouth.
His hands grabbed randomly at the smooth table surface, leaving several shocking bloodstains.
Starlight suddenly covered her mouth.
Tears gushed out instantly. Her stomach churned violently.
She turned around and retched facing the carpet.
Queen Mei's hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly.
Half a cigarette fell onto the table, burning a financial report.
She didn't put out the fire, staring fixedly at that puddle of rotten flesh.
Shen Che pulled open the high-backed leather chair at the main seat.
He sat down.
His long legs crossed, his back leaning against the genuine leather backrest.
He picked up the wet tissue box on the table and pulled out one.
He unhurriedly wiped the bloodstains stained on his left hand.
Finger by finger, he wiped.
His movements were focused.
In the conference room, there was only A-Train's weak gasping sound and the wind blowing in from outside the window.
"Translucent is dead."
Shen Che crumpled the used wet tissue into a ball and accurately threw it into the wastebasket in the corner.
"This fast-running rat wanted to go to the Underground Room just now to give me a surprise."
He pointed at the still-twitching A-Train on the table.
"I found him too noisy running in circles, so I twisted his legs off."
His tone was flat.
Just as if he were talking about casually throwing away a bag of garbage on his way out.
But heard in the ears of the remaining few people, every word carried the stench of blood.
Shen Che crossed his hands and rested them on the table surface.
His body leaned forward slightly.
The sense of oppression smashed down from mid-air like a substantial lead block, filling the conference room.
"Now, let's talk about the rules."
The Deep swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
His Adam's apple rolled up and down. He felt his collar choking his neck tightly, making breathing difficult.
"I couldn't be bothered to dig into Vought Company's past messy accounts."
Shen Che's gaze swept across the long table.
"Stan was smashed into minced meat, and Madelyn is done for. This building belongs to me now."
"How you used to pop compound v, take private gigs, or play with fans, I don't care."
"But from now on, you only have one way to live."
He stretched out his right index finger.
He tapped twice on the mahogany table surface.
Tap. Tap.
The sound was muffled, beating Queen Mei's heart two beats faster.
"Hand over all your trump cards."
Shen Che leaned back against the chair back.
"That little girlfriend of yours hidden in the suburbs." He looked at Queen Mei. "Address, photos, fingerprints. Write them all down."
Queen Mei suddenly raised her head.
Her lips pressed into a white line, and the veins on the back of her hands instantly bulged. Her fingernails almost pinched into her palms.
Shen Che's gaze shifted to Black Noir.
"Your brain injury medical records. Alternative drug channels for controlling hallucinations."
Black Noir's breathing beneath the mask grew a fraction heavier. His black leather gloves clenched tightly, but he didn't move.
"And those videos of indiscriminate killing, bills of bribing judges, negatives of group orgies."
Shen Che's voice turned cold.
"Pack them up and organize them. Before eight o'clock tomorrow morning, place them on this table in front of me."
"I want you to untie the dog chains worn around your necks and hand them to me personally."
This was complete and utter deprivation.
Actively handing over their fatal weakness to this tyrant without a bottom line.
Starlight wiped away the tears on her chin. Her cheeks were pale.
"You're crazy..." Her voice trembled.
"This is extortion. You're no hero at all."
Shen Che didn't look at her.
"You can choose not to hand them over."
He pointed at the fainted A-Train on the table.
"The door has been replaced with a new one, very easy to open. You can leave anytime."
"Walk out of this door. Translucent is waiting for you in the morgue to make up a table for cards."
Dead silence.
A dead silence even colder than a midwinter morgue.
Queen Mei collapsed back into her chair.
She knew Shen Che wasn't joking. This man had no human sympathy.
The price of resistance was having her neck twisted off.
She slowly pulled open the drawer in front of her, taking out a fountain pen and a sheet of white paper.
Her hands trembled. The pen tip blurred a patch of black ink on the paper.
Preparing to write down her girlfriend's address, she accepted her fate.
Right at this moment.
The muffled sound of chair legs rubbing against the carpet rang out.
Creak.
The Deep stood up.
The green-scaled uniform on his body reflected light under the overhead lights.
The embarrassment of just being frightened by a piece of broken bone and falling onto the ground was forcibly covered up by him.
He tugged at his collar and patted the cigarette ash off his legs.
The invisible gills on both sides of his cheeks opened and closed violently due to excessive tension.
The Deep cleared his throat.
His voice sounded dry in the spacious conference room.
"President Shen. Your request is a bit too much."
Queen Mei stopped her pen.
She looked at him as if looking at a dead person.
Starlight held her breath, her body shrinking back into the chair back.
The Deep puffed out his chest.
He felt that his trump cards were different from others'.
Translucent only peeped into women's restrooms, and A-Train was just an errand boy.
They could be replaced.
But he, The Deep, could not.
"I am the King of the Ocean."
The Deep pressed both hands on the edge of the table, carefully avoiding that puddle of A-Train's bloodstains.
"Thirty percent of Vought Company's net profits come from maritime trade and deep-sea salvage."
"Without me escorting them, those cargo ships carrying hundreds of thousands of tons of crude oil can't even cross the Atlantic Ocean."
The more he spoke, the more confident he felt. His voice also grew louder.
"Dolphins, great white sharks, and even giant squids of the deep sea all obey my command."
"With just a word from me, I can cut off half of the world's shipping routes and turn the ports of coastal cities into dead ports."
The Deep walked around his chair.
He took two steps toward the middle of the conference table.
Facing Shen Che's freezing gaze, he forced out a somewhat stiff smile.
"I admit you're very strong, able to twist off that guy's legs with your bare hands."
The Deep spread his hands, making a negotiating posture.
"You sit securely in the president's position. We acknowledge it."
"But this dictatorship routine doesn't work with me. If pushed to the limit, we'll all go down together."
"We're businessmen. Cooperation has to emphasize win-win."
He pointed at the red wooden floor under his feet.
"I won't hand over my dirt. Stay out of my personal life."
"In exchange, I guarantee that Vought Company's shipping profits this year will rise by another ten points."
The Deep raised his chin.
He stared straight at the man playing with a fountain pen in the main seat.
"Keep my privileges. We stand on equal footing, how about that?"
Chapter 14: The Deep wants to rebel? Throw him into the sea to feed sharks.
Only the sound of the wind remained in the conference room.
The Deep's voice echoed above the mahogany long table.
It sounded a bit dry.
The sound of him swallowing his saliva was very loud.
His Adam's apple rolled up and down, and his green-scaled uniform shimmered with an oily sheen under the overhead lights.
He thought he had grasped the bargaining chips for negotiation.
Shipping.
Profits.
This was the lifeline of Vought Company.
Shen Che sat in the main seat.
He didn't pick up the conversation.
He was still holding that leaking fountain pen in his hand.
Black ink trickled down his finger joints, dripping onto the armrest of the leather seat.
He looked at The Deep.
Like looking at a dead fish thrown on a cutting board, still struggling desperately.
An idiot.
The Deep felt extremely uncomfortable being stared at.
He forced himself to pull out a smiling face.
But his two legs stiffened in place, not daring to take half a step forward again.
"President Shen, have you considered..."
The Deep opened his mouth.
The words were only half spoken.
The leather chair let out a short, muffled sound.
The hydraulic rod reached the bottom.
Shen Che vanished.
Only a sonic boom remained in the air.
The financial reports on the long table were whipped up by a gale and slapped directly onto the ceiling.
The Deep didn't even have time to blink his eyes.
A blast of blood-scented wind slapped across his face.
Shen Che was already pressed right in front of him.
The distance was less than half a meter.
The chill from the suit rushed straight into The Deep's nose.
No negotiation.
No nonsense.
Shen Che's right hand reached out directly.
Five fingers like five steel nails precisely gouged toward The Deep's ribs.
That was his gills.
The Deep's most sensitive and fragile respiratory organs.
"Pfft."
The fingers pierced through the hard green scales.
Flesh and skin tore apart.
Shen Che's knuckles jammed directly into the cartilage gaps, fiercely hooking outward.
"Ah—!"
The Deep let out a non-human scream.
The sound was so sharp it pierced the eardrums of the conference room.
His legs went soft.
His body of over two hundred catties was directly suspended in the air.
Lifted up by Shen Che with a single hand.
Severe pain made The Deep's eyeballs bulge outward.
Bloodshot veins crawled all over the whites of his eyes.
The gills were forcefully ripped open, and the tender pink flesh was exposed to the cold air.
Fresh blood trickled down Shen Che's wrist.
Dripping onto the carpet.
"Let... Let go..."
The Deep's hands desperately clutched Shen Che's arm.
He wanted to pry open that iron hand.
His fingernails gouged a few white marks on Shen Che's black suit sleeve.
Not even a single thread of fabric was torn.
The expression on Shen Che's face didn't change at all.
He didn't even look at The Deep's face, which was distorted by pain.
His left knee slightly bent.
The red wooden floor beneath his feet instantly exploded into a pile of wood chips.
Shen Che lifted The Deep and slammed his entire body toward the bulletproof glass curtain wall on the right.
Boom.
The top floor of the entire Vought Tower shook once.
The tempered glass shattered into tens of thousands of rock sugar-sized fragments, flying outward.
Shen Che rushed into the night sky of New York.
No deceleration.
Directly breaking the sound barrier.
A circle of white sonic boom clouds exploded above Manhattan.
The streets below lit up with a sea of red lights from car alarms.
The Deep collided head-on with the high-altitude gale-force winds.
The speed exceeded several thousand kilometers per hour.
The fierce wind scraped hard across The Deep's face like countless dull blades.
His mouth was forced open by the airflow, and the flesh on his cheeks was torn toward the back of his ears.
Wanting to scream, but unable to make a sound.
His vocal cords went on strike in the gale.
The air pressure plummeted.
Oxygen was sucked dry by the high-speed movement.
The Deep felt like he was going to explode.
A ball of red-hot charcoal was jammed into his lungs.
Even more fatal were the gills on his ribs.
Shen Che's fingers were still gouged inside them.
The cold wind poured backward into the torn gill holes, rubbing against the soft flesh.
As soon as the blood flowed out, it was blown into a red mist of blood by the strong wind, scattering into the clouds.
Shen Che maintained a level flight posture.
The hem of his suit fluttered loudly in the wind.
He looked at the clouds ahead.
Red Heat Vision was building up in the depths of his eyes.
Directly burning through the thunderclouds ahead.
The two passed through a charged cumulonimbus cloud.
Lightning exploded all around.
The Deep's hair stood on end strand by strand.
He smelled the scent of scorched scales.
Too fast.
The terrain below changed from a city to a plains, and then into mountain ranges.
A few minutes later.
The horizon ahead disappeared.
Replaced by a pitch-black, boundless body of water.
The Pacific Ocean.
Shen Che stopped abruptly.
Instantly coming to a standstill from a speed of several Mach.
Defying the laws of physics.
The massive inertia slammed entirely onto The Deep alone.
The Deep's cervical vertebrae made a crisp cracking sound, almost snapping his neck off.
He dangled in midair like a tattered sack.
His hands hung weakly at his sides.
This was an altitude of ten thousand meters.
Below was the pitch-black Pacific waters.
The sea breeze carried a strong salty and fishy stench.
The waves rolled in the darkness.
There was no moonlight.
The seawater was like a pot of boiling black ink.
The Deep gasped heavily for breath.
The freezing air poured into his lungs, triggering a fit of violent coughing.
With every cough, the gills under his ribs pulled and hurt.
Blood dripped down drop by drop.
Plunging into the dark sea below.
"Shen... President Shen..."
The Deep's voice trembled like a fallen leaf in the wind.
His face was smeared with snot and tears.
Coagulated blood scabs hung on his scales.
"I was wrong. I don't want the money anymore... I'll give you the compromising material..."
He looked at the familiar ocean below.
Usually, that was his home turf.
But now.
Falling from an altitude of ten thousand meters, the sea surface was harder than a concrete floor.
With his current injuries, falling down would shatter his internal organs.
Shen Che held him by his gills.
The cold wind blew Shen Che's bangs.
He lowered his head.
"King of the Seas?"
Shen Che's voice could be heard clearly amidst the sound of wind and waves.
Without fluctuations.
"You command great white sharks? Or do you command squids?"
The Deep nodded desperately.
"Yes... I can control them. I am useful to the company..."
He tried hard to prove that being alive was better than being dead.
Shen Che's chest vibrated slightly.
He didn't laugh out loud.
He just found it boring.
"A piece of trash who only knows how to mate with fish."
Shen Che looked into his eyes.
"Vought Company does not need a seafood market."
The Deep's pupils dilated instantly.
He understood.
This man didn't care about shipping profits at all.
He just found his bargaining just now too noisy.
"Don't! Please—"
The Deep's wail hadn't even come out.
Shen Che loosened his five fingers.
The moment he lost support.
A sense of weightlessness enveloped The Deep.
He fell straight down.
The sound of the wind shrieked bitterly in his ears.
The Deep spread his hands and feet, struggling wildly in midair, trying to slow down the speed of his descent.
Shen Che hovered in the night sky.
Watching coldly as that green speck became smaller and smaller.
His vision pierced through the night, looking below.
The fresh blood dropped by The Deep just now had already merged into the seawater.
The most sensitive predators to the smell of blood in the ocean moved at the scent.
A dozen grayish-white fins cut across the surface of the sea.
Great white sharks.
Stimulated by the high concentration of superhuman blood, the shark school fell into a frenzy.
Bang!
A huge mass of white splashes exploded on the sea surface.
The Deep smashed into the water.
The terrifying impact instantly shattered his legs.
Large areas of scales peeled off.
Seawater poured into his throat.
Salty and cold.
He instinctively wanted to use his gills to breathe.
But his gills had been gouged out with a few bloody holes by Shen Che.
As the seawater poured backward, it hurt so much that he rolled and convulsed in the sea.
He opened his eyes.
Underwater were a dozen great white sharks, six meters in length.
Opening their bloody mouths full of sharp teeth.
The Deep tried to emit brainwaves to control them.
"Back off..."
Useless.
The brainwaves in his severely injured state were pitifully weak.
The sharks only smelled the enticing scent of blood.
A great white shark lunged forward fiercely, biting down on The Deep's broken left leg in one bite.
Sharp teeth pierced through the uniform.
Shaking its head fiercely.
The Deep let out a muffled scream underwater, spewing a large string of bubbles.
More sharks pounced forward.
The seawater was stirred muddy.
Large patches of deep red spread across the sea surface.
Shen Che had seen enough.
This farce wasn't even considered entertainment.
He withdrew his gaze and turned around.
The air was torn apart once again.
Shen Che turned into an afterimage, returning the way he came.
The clouds above the Pacific Ocean were pulled by him into a long blank track.
Faster than when he came.
New York.
The 99th floor of Vought Tower.
The red alarm light in the corridor was still flashing.
The sprinkler overhead dripped water, tick, tick.
The floor was covered in broken glass and water-stained white lime.
A strong wind poured into the corridor from the damaged wall hole of the conference room.
Shen Che landed.
Leather shoes stepped on a piece of broken glass.
Crunch.
The glass fragments were crushed into white powder.
The black suit on his body wasn't messy in the slightest.
Only at the cuff of his right hand was a large patch of dark red bloodstains.
The Deep's blood.
He flicked his hand.
A few drops of blood were flicked onto the floor.
Shen Che raised his head.
By the emergency exit door on the right side of the corridor.
Leaning against someone.
Starlight.
Annie.
She originally wanted to escape taking advantage of the chaos.
Just running to the stairwell, before pushing open the fire door.
She heard that sonic boom.
She turned her head and happened to see Shen Chelanding in the corridor.
Starlight's two legs were shaking.
Pressing against the cold tile wall.
Her golden curly hair was messy.
The chest of her white and gold uniform heaved violently.
Her hands gripped her skirt tightly.
Her knuckles turned white.
She saw with her own eyes Shen Che choking Translucentto death.
Seeing A-Train turn into a puddle of mush.
Seeing The Deep being carried by one hand and flying out of the window.
Now, this man was back.
The Deep didn't come back with him.
Starlight's teeth were fighting.
Upper and lower teeth colliding, making a faint clicking sound.
She bit her lower lip, wanting to swallow this sound down.
The tip of her tongue tasted a faint hint of rust.
Shen Che took a step.
Walking toward her.
The sound of leather shoes stepping in the accumulated water, one by one.
Knocking in the empty corridor.
Starlight wanted to retreat backward.
Her back scraped a harsh sound against the wall tiles.
There was nowhere left to retreat.
She stared fixedly at Shen Che's blood-stained right hand.
Her stomach spasmed, and her breath cut off in her throat.
Chapter 15: Starlight's Faith Collapses, This Company Is Rotten to the Core
Leather shoes stepped into the puddle.
Plop.
Plop.
Shen Che walked toward Starlight.
The red alarm light in the hallway flickered on and off.
The red light shone on Shen Che's black suit.
Blood was still dripping from the cuff of his right hand.
That was The Deep's blood.
Blood droplets smashed into the white wall ash, blurring into dark red spots.
Starlight's back pressed firmly against the wall tiles.
The cold air in the tile seams penetrated into her bone gaps, and she shivered.
The white-and-gold uniform was tightly wrapped around her body.
She felt that this clothes now looked like a shroud.
Two meters.
One meter.
Shen Che stopped in front of Starlight, his tall figure blocking the emergency light overhead.
The shadow cast down over her head.
Starlight bit her lower lip.
The taste of blood spread across the tip of her tongue.
Her stomach spasmed, and sour water surged straight up.
She remembered what The Deep looked like on TV.
Sunny, strong, and loving the ocean.
A few minutes ago, The Deep's gills were gouged through by the man in front of her.
He was thrown down from ten thousand meters high and smashed into a piece of rotten meat.
Not even a complete corpse was left behind.
Translucent's state of death was still swaying in her mind.
That miserable state where his head was turned 180 degrees and soaked in urine.
All of this happened too fast.
So fast that Starlight simply had no time to digest it.
"Don't come over..."
Starlight's voice trembled like a cat forced into a dead end.
Her hands gripped the edges of her uniform miniskirt tightly, her knuckles turning white.
Shen Che didn't move.
He lowered his head to look at her, his gaze looking like he was looking at a pile of useless waste paper.
"Why?"
Starlight suddenly raised her voice with a heavy crying tone.
Tears mixed with the dust on her face, flowing out two mud prints.
"They are human beings too! Why do you have to be so cruel?"
Her voice cracked, and her shoulders shook violently.
"They are not criminals. They are members of The Seven!"
"Aren't superheroes supposed to protect the weak?"
Starlight raised her head, her tears shining under the red light.
"We are light! We are the light to save this World!"
Shen Che looked at this tear-stained face.
His chest vibrated.
His Adam's apple rolled up and down twice.
He laughed out loud.
The deep laughter echoed in the empty hallway, getting louder and louder.
Starlight was stunned.
She opened her mouth, forgetting to cry.
She didn't understand what was so funny about this. Were human lives a joke in this man's eyes?
"Light?"
Shen Che stopped laughing.
He leaned his body forward slightly, and the sense of oppression instantly doubled.
"Do you think you live in a Disney cartoon?"
He extended his left hand, and his fingertips wiped away a streak of black ash on Starlight's cheek.
The movement was very light.
Yet it made Starlight's whole body tense up, her hair standing on end.
"Do you know how much the uniform on your body costs?"
Shen Che withdrew his hand and took out a wet wipe to wipe off the foundation stained on his fingertips.
"Seventy thousand U.S. dollars."
"Bulletproof fiber plus custom-made lace."
"Fully sponsored by Vought Company."
Shen Che threw the dirty tissue into the puddle on the ground.
"That near-bankrupt farm of your family can't even afford a pair of sleeves."
Starlight's breathing stagnated.
Her hand grasped the hem of her skirt, forgetting to let go.
"Do you think you joined The Seven because you saved a few Police catching thieves?"
Shen Che's voice did not have the slightest fluctuation.
Cold like ice cubes.
"It's because your bust, hip-to-waist ratio matches Vought's otaku market research for next quarter."
"They need a pure country girl persona."
"The girl next door. Convenient for selling otaku merchandise and body pillows."
Shen Che pointed to the hollow pentagram logo on her chest.
"Do you think this piece of fabric is cut short for breathability?"
Starlight shook her head desperately.
Her golden curly hair whipped across her face.
"No! I was selected based on my ability!"
She argued loudly, trying to grab the last straw.
"My superpower test score is A-grade!"
"A-grade?"
Shen Che let out a sneer.
"Last month. Baltimore chemical plant explosion. Martian Manhunter flew in and saved thirty workers."
"What did the news say?"
Starlight opened her mouth, unable to answer.
"The news said that Martian Manhunter caused a secondary explosion and was a dangerous element."
Shen Che looked at her coldly.
"Because he didn't cooperate with Vought's broadcast contract. He didn't sign the exclusive news agreement."
"So he became a vandal."
Starlight's vision went dark.
"Pushing back half a year earlier."
Shen Che didn't give her a chance to breathe, closing in half a step forward.
"San Francisco Bridge hijacking case. Four masked villains held a whole school bus hostage."
"The news broadcasted live for three hours."
"That was temporary actors hired by Vought's public relations department for two million U.S. dollars."
"Letting them put on a show on the bridge."
"So that Black Noir could rush over and perform a wave of perfect aerial rescue."
Shen Che's tone was as bland as reciting a menu.
"Two civilian kids died in the middle?"
"That is called the combat damage index required by the script."
"With casualties, the audience will be more fanatical, and Vought's insurance sales will double."
Shen Che looked at Starlight's hollow eyes.
As long as the numbers on the financial report look good, who cares about those two kids' lives?
Starlight's legs went soft.
Her knees knocked against the tiles, making a muffled sound.
Every word of Shen Che's was like a rusty saw.
Pulling back and forth on the worldview she had built over the past twenty years.
She had watched TV since she was a child and collected posters of The Seven.
She felt that this building was a holy land.
Living inside were gods, heroes saving humanity.
"Protecting the weak."
Shen Che chewed on the word with a mocking face.
"The only value of the weak is to honestly buy Vought Company's security insurance."
"Poor people who can't afford it are just mud in the sewers."
"They are the atmosphere group when disaster strikes, the numbers on the financial report."
He turned around and pointed in the direction of the conference room.
In the hole in the wall, blood stains on the long table could still be seen.
"Do you think the ones sitting inside are heroes?"
"A group of stars packaged by capital."
"Behind the scenes, they take compound v and pose and act in front of the camera."
"Once the camera is turned off."
"The Deep plays perverted games in the aquarium, and A-Train gets high and smashes a passerby into a puddle of minced meat."
Shen Che looked down condescendingly at the girl kneeling in the water.
"This is the place you broke your head trying to get into."
Starlight's whole body lost strength.
"Stop talking..."
She raised her hands to cover her ears, and big tears fell down.
She didn't want to listen.
But those words pierced into her eardrums like awls.
Shen Che didn't intend to let her go.
He decided to trample her last shred of self-esteem into pieces.
"Your mother took you around beauty pageants across the U.S."
"Making you wear low-cut dresses and walk the runway under the gaze of those greasy men."
"Just to send you into this building one day and sell you for a good price."
"You're talking to me about faith now?"
Shen Che sneered.
"Your faith is built on your mother's vanity and Vought's U.S. dollars."
Starlight completely collapsed.
"I want to save people! I really want to save people!"
She put down her hands and shouted at Shen Che.
Her voice cracked with a desperate echo.
"You want to save people. Fine."
Shen Che nodded.
"Go to Africa tomorrow. Go to those slums where there isn't even a shadow of a camera to save people."
"People die there every day."
"There are no cheers from millions of fans, no red carpets, no six-figure endorsement fees."
"Go right now. Go be your light."
Shen Che looked at her shaking shoulders.
"Are you going?"
Starlight froze.
She opened her mouth, her cry stuck in her throat.
Go to Africa? Live a hard life? No glamorous stage?
She found that she hesitated.
Even a hesitation of just one second was enough to shatter her self-proclaimed justice.
Shen Che saw right through her.
"Look. You know what you're craving yourself."
Shen Che's eyes were full of contempt.
"Peel off the skin of justice, and what's inside is entirely business."
"You are no different from them. You're just a more finely packaged commodity."
The hallway quieted down.
Only the leaking sound of the sprinkler head.
Drip. Drip.
Starlight's spiritual World collapsed.
Her idols shattered, her dreams became a scam.
Even she herself was dissected so unbearably.
She felt cold.
Coldness seeping from her bone marrow.
This glamorous Vought Tower.
Turned out to be a slaughterhouse hanging human skin.
Capital eats people. Superheroes eat people too.
Translucent's cervical spine was crushed.
The Deep was thrown down from ten thousand meters high to feed the sharks.
A-Train's legs became twisted like twists.
This was all because they lost their value in front of this monster.
Or made him find them an eyesore.
Who is next?
Her?
Starlight lowered her head to look at the puddle.
A layer of wall ash floated on the water surface, reflecting her messy hair and disheveled face.
She was just a little girl who could emit light.
This bit of superpower. In front of this silver monster that couldn't even be blown up by explosives.
Not even as good as a flashlight.
A single finger could crush her to death.
Starlight didn't want to die.
She had just arrived in New York. She hadn't made enough money yet.
The instinct of survival overwhelmed the ridiculous sense of morality.
Fear completely domesticated her.
The Deep blocked her at the entrance of the locker room this afternoon.
Hinting to her that to make a living in this industry, she had to understand Vought's rules.
At that time, she sternly refused.
Now she finally understood.
What were the rules?
Obeying the strong. Selling the last bit of valuable things on her body.
In this slaughterhouse.
The most primitive value of women is often the last ticket to exchange for survival.
Starlight's eyes completely became hollow.
Tears no longer flowed, drying up on her dust-covered cheeks.
She raised her head.
Looking at Shen Che standing in front of her.
This man was like an insurmountable black mountain.
Controlling the power of life and death over everyone.
Even an executive like Madelyn had her teeth slapped off by him with a single palm.
What did she have to resist with?
Starlight gritted her teeth.
Her hands moved away from the soaked hem of her skirt.
Tremblingly lifting upwards.
Her fingers touched the metal zipper on the chest of the platinum uniform.
The zipper pull was ice-cold.
Starlight's fingertips were also trembling, unable to pinch it, slipping for a moment.
She pinched it tight again.
She took a deep breath, her lung lobes filled with water vapor and the smell of blood.
She closed her eyes, lowering her head in humiliation.
Her fingers pulled hard downwards.