Chapter 32: Tony's Party Dinner
A few days ago, he was almost trying to force Tony away, but now that the stock price has soared, he is acting incredibly arrogant.
"The stocks for Stark Industries and Vought Internationalhave gone straight up, forming two vertical bullish lines over the past few days."
Tony took a sip of his drink, his tone full of smugness. "Those Vampires on Wall Street treat your name and mine like they are seeing their own fathers—even more affectionately."
"Did you call just to read me the financial news?" Lin Aninterrupted him.
"Of course not. To celebrate the huge success of our collaboration, and to celebrate my rebirth..."
Tony paused, his voice rising an octave.
"There is a private party at my penthouse tonight. A real high-society gathering, without those annoying reporters and their long lenses. How about it? Care to grace me with your presence?"
Lin An raised an eyebrow.
A high-society dinner party?
In his past life as a miserable worker, the most he had ever attended was the company year-end party where they ate cold boxed lunches.
Now, with a top-tier luxury party paid for by Tony Stark, and one celebrating the big news they had created together, it would be a waste not to go.
Besides, Stark's party would definitely be full of celebrities and hidden influencers.
"Sure." Lin An agreed readily.
"Great. Oh, right," Tony's annoying voice came through again, with obvious teasing. "Don't forget to bring a date. At a party like that, standing around alone with a glass in your hand is just too pathetic."
"If you, the 'all-powerful Homelander,' don't have time to find a date, do you want me to lend you one? I have the contact information for every Playboy cover model; take your pick."
Lin An scoffed.
Lend? I have the top Black Widow in the Marvel Universeliving in my house right now; do I need you to lend me one?
"Worry about your own rusty iron rod, Tony." Lin Anretorted unceremoniously. "I don't need one."
After saying that, he hung up the phone directly.
Lin An did not return to Vought Tower; he changed direction in the air and flew straight toward his top-tier luxury penthouse near Central Park in Manhattan.
As soon as he landed on the terrace outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the smart system inside the house automatically lit up with soft lights.
"Welcome home, boss."
A lazy and highly magnetic female voice came from the living room sofa.
Natasha was wearing a perfectly tailored black professional suit, with the collar of her white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a large expanse of snow-white skin.
She held a freshly mixed martini in her hand, her long legs crossed, with one red-soled high heel dangling from her toe, looking incredibly seductive.
Lin An took off his cape, tossed it aside, and strode over.
This woman is truly dedicated.
For the sake of infiltration, she could even master such a flattering and seductive posture so perfectly.
If that black-egg-head Nick Fury saw his ace Agent doing nothing but serving tea and water every day instead of gathering useful intelligence, he would probably go blind in his one remaining eye from anger.
"You seem to be in a good mood today." Natasha stood up, handed the glass to Lin An, and took the opportunity to straighten the collar of his suit.
Her movements were as natural as a real personal secretary.
Lin An took the glass and downed it in one gulp.
The cold liquid flowed down his throat, but the burning heat in his body did not subside at all.
The energy boost from the first generation compound vwas too intense; the way he looked at Natasha now was like a wolf that had been starving for three days looking at a piece of fresh meat.
"It is quite good." Lin An suddenly reached out, wrapped his arm around Natasha's slender waist, and pulled her into his arms.
Natasha let out a soft cry.
"Boss..." Natasha leaned into Lin An's embrace, tilting her head back, her emerald eyes revealing just the right amount of panic and shyness. "You are hurting me."
Acting.
Keep acting.
Lin An looked at her pitiful appearance and almost laughed out loud.
Not only did he not let go, but he leaned his face in, his nose almost touching hers.
"Go change your clothes." Lin An's voice was low, with an unquestionable tone of command.
Natasha was stunned for a moment.
"Change... change into what?"
"An evening gown." Lin An released her, turned to the wine cabinet, and poured himself another glass of whiskey.
"Tony Stark is hosting a private party tonight to celebrate the surge in Stark Industries' stock price. He asked me to bring a date."
Lin An turned his head and looked Natasha up and down, his gaze unabashedly roaming over her explosive curves.
"I think you are just right. After all, as my 'fanatic fan,' you should be happy to attend such an occasion with your idol, right?"
Natasha's eyes lit up instantly.
She lowered her head, pretending to be flattered. "Really? I can go with you?"
"Of course." Lin An walked back to her, reached out, and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up. "However, I don't like my date dressing like a nun. Go pick an outfit that will keep every man in the room from looking away."
Such domineering and perverted remarks perfectly fit the persona of Homelander.
Natasha nodded obediently. "I understand, boss."
Watching Lin An's back as he walked toward the bathroom, Natasha stood in place, a flash of shrewdness in her eyes.
Won a round.
She turned and walked toward the walk-in closet to start choosing her 'battle armor' for the night, her brain working at high speed.
For the past few days, she had been walking on thin ice around this moody, extremely dangerous superhuman, testing his bottom line every day.
The last time she hid under the bed and was almost caught, she thought she had already aroused his suspicion.
But now it seems that the situation is completely under control.
He is willing to take her to attend Tony Stark's private dinner party, such an extremely private and important social occasion.
This means that this arrogant Homelander has completely lowered his guard against her and truly treats her as a personal possession he can show off.
As long as she can enter his core social circle, obtaining the secrets of Vought International is only a matter of time. Nick Fury's mission has finally made a substantial breakthrough.
In the bathroom.
The sound of water was splashing.
Lin An stood under the shower, letting the hot water wash over his hard muscles.
Listening to the subtle movements coming from the walk-in closet outside, the mockery at the corner of his mouth could no longer be suppressed.
This Black Widow is probably feeling smug right now, thinking her honey trap worked.
She has no idea that every piece of intelligence she passed to S.H.I.E.L.D. was intentionally leaked by me.
Taking her to the dinner party is just because I think this play isn't lively enough and I need some entertainment.
After showering, Lin An put on a hand-tailored black suit.
Without the red and blue suit, he looked a little less brutal and had more of a refined, villainous aura like a suit-wearing gangster.
He pushed open the bedroom door.
Natasha had already changed her clothes and was standing in front of the full-length mirror adjusting her earrings.
A wine-red velvet deep-V evening gown clung tightly to her perfect body curves.
The back had a large cutout design, with her fair shoulder blades faintly visible.
The slit of the skirt was extremely high, and as she moved, those long, straight legs could simply kill a man.
Natasha blinked. "Boss, how is it?"
Top-notch.
Lin An had to admit that the Red Room certainly had a knack for training female Agents.
"Very beautiful." Lin An stepped forward, hugged her from behind, and wrapped his hands around her slender waist without restraint. "So beautiful that I want to just take you right here on the sofa and skip that damn dinner party."
Natasha gave a charming smile and gently pushed against his chest.
"Boss, Mr. Stark is still waiting for you. Being late is not the style of a hero."
"Hero?" Lin An scoffed, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward the door. "There are no heroes tonight, only the scene-stealing Homelander."
The two took the private elevator directly to the underground garage.
Lin An chose an extremely flashy black Aston Martin. Natasha consciously sat in the passenger seat.
The engine roared like a Beast, and the sports car, like a black lightning bolt, tore through the night of Manhattanand headed straight for Stark Tower.
The location of the dinner party was set on the top floor of Stark Tower.
It had been decorated into an extremely luxurious party scene.
Champagne towers, top-tier caviar, and scantily clad bunny girls wove through the crowd of well-dressed people.
The people coming and going were the true power brokers of New York, financial tycoons of Wall Street, and top Hollywood stars and models.
The elevator door opened with a "ding."
Lin An, with Natasha on his arm, strode out of the elevator.
The originally noisy banquet hall seemed to have been pressed on the mute button the moment they appeared.
Everyone's eyes were involuntarily focused on this incredibly popular Superhero.
The crowd automatically parted to make a path.
"Look who is here!" Tony Stark, holding a glass of wine and wearing a flashy dark red suit, came up from the crowd to greet them.
His gaze swept over Lin An and then landed on Natashabeside him.
Tony's eyes froze.
"Wow." Tony held his glass, looking Natasha up and down, a look of amazement unique to a playboy on his face. "I take back what I said on the phone earlier. Buddy, your taste is even more amazing than your superpowers."
Tony reached out his hand, wanting to perform a hand-kissing gesture.
"This beautiful lady, I am Tony..."
Slap.
Lin An unceremoniously slapped Tony's hand away.
"Keep your claws to yourself, Tony."
Chapter 33: The Wonderful Use of X-Ray Vision, Hammer's Ultimate Social Death
"Can that palladium-poisoned kidney of yours still handle a stunner of this caliber? Don't let tomorrow's Stark Industries headline be 'Genius Inventor Dies of Heart Attack During Sex,' or else all the stocks in my hands will crash."
Tony rolled his eyes, took back his hand, and took a sip of iced liquor to calm his nerves.
"Your mouth is truly even more toxic than your Heat Vision." Tony retorted irritably, though his eyes still lingered on Natasha for a moment.
"But seriously, where did you dig this girl up from? This temperament doesn't look like those plastic flowers in Hollywood who only know how to scream."
"My fanatical fan." Lin An spouted nonsense with a straight face, while casually pulling Natasha's waist tighter, "Just hired her as my personal life assistant, responsible for handling all my private needs."
Natasha lowered her head in cooperation, revealing a perfectly shy smile, acting out the persona of a "fangirl who worships the strong" vividly.
"Fine, suit yourself." Tony shrugged and turned around to lead the way.
"Let's go, Your Excellency the Tyrant. Those old foxes on Wall Street have almost drunk all my top-vintage wine just to meet you. You have to help me squeeze this bill back out of them."
The three of them walked up to the marble bar.
"Heard from Madelyn that the old lunatic who plays with magnets sent you a challenge letter?" Tony snapped his fingers, and the bartender immediately served two whiskeys.
"The Brotherhood of Mutants is not some street gang." Tony frowned, his tone becoming a bit more serious, "If that old guy Magneto really goes on a rampage in your Battle Royale, can that newly built arena of yours hold up?"
"If it can't, I'll just build another one." Lin An took the glass, didn't even sip it, and downed it in one go.
To his current body, alcohol was no different from plain Water.
"Tony, you still haven't grasped the essence of this Battle Royale." Lin An tapped the empty glass on the bar, "Magneto wants to prove that Mutants are the pinnacle of evolution? Let him. The bigger he makes a scene, the more spectacular the spectacle, the more the World's attention will focus on Vought International."
Lin An leaned closer to Tony, lowered his voice, and curled his lips into an arc full of a troll's vibe.
"I'm not only going to let him participate, I'm going to arrange the top-tier broadcast camera positions for him. I want the whole World to watch how this so-called Mutantleader pulls hair with a bunch of third-rate villains over an airdrop crate on my turf. Ratings, understand? Ratings are king."
Tony looked at Lin An's eyes, which were faintly glowing red, and cursed him as a lunatic in his heart.
This guy didn't care about any Mutant crisis at all; he only cared about trending topics!
"Looks like I need to add some anti-magnetic coating to my new armor." Tony sighed, "Lest I get sucked into a metal pancake when I go to support you."
"Mr. Stark, Mr. Homelander."
A slightly sharp voice suddenly cut in from the side.
Lin An turned his head.
A man wearing a silver-gray suit and gold-rimmed glasses walked over with a glass in his hand.
He had a greasy slicked-back hairstyle, and his face was plastered with that kind of hypocritical smile only seen on Wall Street.
Justin Hammer.
The boss of Hammer Advanced Industries, and the most disgusting sycophant and competitor in Tony Stark's life.
"Hammer." The smile on Tony's face vanished instantly, not even bothering to be perfunctory, "How did security let you in? I remember my invitation list had names for even stray dogs, but not you."
"Oh, Tony, don't be so distant. We are peers after all." Hammer smiled shamelessly, ignoring Tony's mockery, and turned his gaze to Lin An.
To be precise, he turned to Natasha, who was being held in Lin An's arms.
Hammer's eyes lit up instantly, and that gaze mixed with greed and lewdness unscrupulously raked over the patch of snowy white on Natasha's chest twice.
"This must be the legendary Homelander, right? I've heard so much about you." Hammer raised his glass, but his eyes remained glued to Natasha, "And this beautiful lady is…"
Lin An looked at Hammer. This idiot, does he really think I'm here to attend some socialite gathering?
Daring to flirt with my girl?
Lin An didn't make a move. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and a subtle red light flashed deep within his pupils.
X-Ray Vision activated.
Hammer's "haute couture" silver-gray suit instantly became transparent in his eyes.
"Mr. Hammer, right?" A malicious smile curled at the corner of Lin An's mouth, "The boss of Hammer Advanced Industries. Heard you've been pitching your new weapons to the Military lately?"
"Yes, just some little gadgets." Hammer, thinking Lin Anwas interested, immediately puffed out his chest, his smile becoming even brighter.
"I don't know how your weapons are." Lin An's voice suddenly amplified, ensuring the circle of Wall Streetbigwigs with their ears pricked up could hear.
He pointed at Hammer's lower body.
"But I'm curious, Mr. Hammer, is that pink SpongeBob tattoo on your left butt cheek something you chose yourself, or did your private male assistant with special fetishes force you to get it?"
The whole room was deathly silent.
No one spoke, and even the background jazz music seemed to have stopped.
The smile on Hammer's face froze instantly.
He looked at Lin An as if he had seen a ghost, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
The mouthful of wine Tony had just taken was sprayed directly onto the bar with a "pfft" sound.
Lin An had no intention of stopping.
"Also." Lin An looked Hammer up and down, his tone full of mockery, "The two silicone fake butt pads you stuffed inside your suit pants are of really poor quality. The one on the left has already shifted; you look like a baboon with a tumor right now. I suggest you buy more expensive ones next time."
"You... what nonsense are you spouting!" Hammer was furious, his face turning the color of pig liver, his voice cracking.
"Me spouting nonsense?" Lin An pointed at his own eyes, "Do you want me to use my Heat Vision to burn your pants off and let everyone verify it with their own eyes? While I'm at it, why don't I let everyone see that unopened bottle of fast-acting little blue pills in your pocket? Quite a high dosage, aren't you afraid of sudden death?"
Someone nearby finally couldn't help it and laughed out loud with a "pfft."
Immediately after, the laughter spread through the banquet hall like a contagious disease.
Those socialites who usually kept up airs were now all red-faced, staring at Hammer's lower body with the look of someone watching a monkey show.
Hammer completely collapsed.
In New York high society, killing him would have been easier to bear than letting him suffer such a public social death. He covered his face, not daring to even utter a harsh word, pushed through the crowd, and fled like a stray dog.
"Hahahaha!" Tony laughed until tears came out, leaning on the bar and pounding the table, "Bro... this move of yours... is even more ruthless than crushing his bones. SpongeBob? Hahahaha! I must buy the front page of the Daily Bugle tomorrow!"
Chapter 34: Playing Along, Conquering Black Widow
"Homelander! That was brilliant!" The old man walking in front was pot-bellied, with a General Electric badge pinned to his chest. "The Super-powered Battle Royale! This is absolutely the greatest achievement in the history of human television!"
"Indeed, the viewership projections have already broken the Super Bowl record." Another media tycoon chimed in, his eyes gleaming. "We at NBC bought the broadcast rights, and the ad slots were snapped up within ten minutes. Even the White House has given its tacit approval."
Lin An held his wine glass, a perfect business smile on his face, as he clinked glasses with these old foxes.
Inwardly, however, he was sneering.
What nonsense about human rights, what political correctness.
As long as the profit exceeds three hundred percent, these capitalists would even build the gallows to sell their own mothers in advance.
A program as anti-human as Battle Royale could only proceed smoothly because these Vampires were fanning the flames from behind the scenes.
"This is all thanks to your lobbying." Lin An's tone was as familiar as a seasoned veteran of the business World. "Without the real money you threw around on Capitol Hill, those politicians wouldn't have let it pass so easily."
"Making money, it's nothing shameful." The media tycoon laughed. "But are you really confident you can keep the situation under control? I heard that madman Magneto also signed up?"
"He is just a catalyst for viewership ratings." Lin An took a sip of champagne, his tone arrogant to the extreme. "In my home turf, he can only be an excellent supporting actor."
The tycoon nodded with a smile; he was practically wishing for the program to turn the World upside down so he could fill his pockets, and he didn't care about anyone else's life or death.
Natasha stood quietly by Lin An's side, arm in arm with him, wearing a decent and charming smile.
Her brain, however, was like a high-speed computer, recording the identities of these old men, the consortiums they represented, and the entire financial network behind Vought International.
After dealing with them for half an hour, Lin An felt a bit bored.
"Excuse me, gentlemen." Lin An casually shoved his empty wine glass into the hands of a passing waiter and pulled Natasha straight toward the ten-meter-long top-tier buffet table at the edge of the banquet hall.
Lin An picked up a plate and, ignoring any upper-class etiquette, used a fork to spread half a jar of caviar onto toast, added three slices of tuna belly, and took a huge bite.
Delicious.
Natasha stood by, watching Lin An devour the food like a starving ghost, her delicate eyebrows arching slightly.
Is this really that high-and-mighty tyrant?
Looking at Lin An's crude eating habits, a thought suddenly popped into Natasha's mind.
Extreme greed implies extreme deprivation.
This man possesses god-like power, yet behaves like an unsophisticated upstart when it comes to material enjoyment.
This is a flaw.
Moreover, he is very relaxed right now.
Natasha turned and walked to the bar, personally mixing two glasses of pure Russian Spirit of Life without any fruit juice dilution, adding only two ice cubes.
She carried the glasses back to Lin An and handed one to him.
"Boss, don't you find it dry just eating?" Natasha's voice was very low, with just the right amount of huskiness and seduction. "Try this, a specialty from Russia, it's strong enough."
Lin An swallowed the tuna in his mouth, glanced at the transparent liquid, and then looked at Natasha's emerald-like eyes.
Trying to get me drunk?
Lin An almost laughed out loud. He had just injected the first generation compound v, and his energy recovery rate had increased by fifty percent.
Let alone two glasses of vodka, even if he drank all the alcohol in the entire banquet hall, he wouldn't even need to hold a drop of urine.
"Sure." Lin An took the glass, deliberately pretending to be mesmerized by her beauty, his eyes scanning the deep V-neck on Natasha's chest without restraint. "As long as it's poured by you, I'll drink poison too."
The two clinked glasses and downed them in one gulp.
The fiery liquor rolled down his throat. Lin An deliberately frowned, pretending to be choked, and took the opportunity to reach out and wrap his arm around Natasha's slender, graspable waist.
Natasha leaned against Lin An's shoulder.
"Boss, you have a great tolerance for alcohol." She giggled and beckoned a waiter to bring a whole bottle of Black Label whiskey. "Another round?"
"Sure."
The next half hour became a one-sided drinking contest.
Lin An's acting skills were Oscar-worthy.
Every three drinks he took, his eyes grew a bit more unfocused, and his hand around Natasha's waist became increasingly restless.
That large palm slid down the smooth velvet fabric, wantonly kneading those breathtaking curves.
Natasha gritted her teeth, suppressing the urge to drive her high-heel into the top of his foot, and continued to pour wine into his glass.
Almost there.
His tongue was already starting to slur, and his eyes had lost their focus.
With just two more glasses, she would be able to pry the core secrets of Vought International out of him.
Natasha picked up her own glass, ready to have the last drink with him.
As the liquor went down, she suddenly felt the Worldspinning.
Natasha shook her head violently, but her vision was still double. She was a super-Agent who had been injected with the special serum from the Soviet Red Room, with an extremely high tolerance for alcohol.
But today, in order to get Homelander drunk, she had consumed enough strong liquor to knock out an elephant.
She couldn't hold on much longer.
She couldn't delay any longer.
Natasha leaned limply against Lin An's chest, her fingers tracing circles on his solid pectoral muscles, her voice sweet enough to pull strings.
"Boss... you are so powerful. Is there anything in this Worldthat can make you afraid?"
Here it comes.
Lin An felt the scorching body temperature of the woman in his arms and was overjoyed.
This little black cat finally couldn't help but show her claws.
Trying to get information out of me? I'll give you something intense today.
The frivolity and drunkenness on Lin An's face vanished instantly, replaced by an extreme sense of emptiness and confusion.
He leaned back against the sofa, tilting his head up to look at the dazzling crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
"Afraid?" Lin An's voice became hoarse, with a chilling tremor. "I am afraid of the cold."
Natasha was stunned.
Afraid of the cold? Homelander can fly in the stratosphere at ten thousand meters, how could he be afraid of the cold?
"You don't know that feeling, Natalie." Lin An lowered his head to look at the woman in his arms, his eye sockets eerily rimmed with bloodshot red. "That bone-chilling, soul-freezing cold."
"I have no parents, no childhood. The first thing I remember is the pale light in the laboratory and those monsters wearing hazmat suits, whose eyes you couldn't even see."
Lin An's fingers tightened unconsciously, pinching Natasha's shoulder until it hurt, but she didn't make a sound, even softening her breathing.
"They locked me in a special metal chamber and lowered the temperature to minus eighty degrees. Just to test the survival rate of my cells in extreme environments." Lin Angave a self-deprecating laugh, a sound worse than crying. "I was freezing inside, turning purple all over, unable to even cry. Do you know what they did?"
Natasha looked at him, the calculation in her eyes fading away unknowingly.
"They were outside with notebooks, recording." Lin Anpointed to his heart. "Recording the time my heartbeat stopped. Then they would drag me out, use high-voltage electricity to shock my chest, revive me, and throw me back in."
"Again and again. I had no name, only a cold experimental codename."
Lin An lowered his head, taking the opportunity to bury his face in Natasha's bosom, his voice as faint as a frightened child.
"So I eat hot things desperately, like... warm milk, I desperately want an embrace. I just... don't want to go back into that cold iron tank ever again."
Chapter 35: Laying Siege!
Natasha was listening so intently that she forgot to dodge for a moment.
A scalding drop of water landed on Natasha's chest.
Natasha froze completely.
She thought of the Red Room.
She thought of the girls in the frozen, snow-covered Siberia who were forced to kill each other.
She thought of those cold operating tables where their uteruses were forcibly removed, depriving them of the right to be mothers.
They were all weapons that had been manufactured.
None of them had names, only codenames.
An indescribable sense of bitterness suddenly surged into the heart of this top Agent.
Looking at the man in her arms, who was regarded as a god and a tyrant, she felt for the first time that he was nothing more than a poor wretch covered in scars.
Natasha sighed, slowly raised her hand, wrapped it around Lin An's broad back, and patted him gently.
"It's okay," Natasha's voice was very soft, carrying a tenderness she hadn't even noticed herself. "No one can lock you away again."
Buried in her chest, Lin An took a deep breath, his lips curling into an extremely wicked arc.
So what if she was a top Agent? As long as he found a point of emotional resonance, he could still tear a hole in her psychological defenses.
This play for sympathy was absolutely perfect.
Lin An took the opportunity to press most of his body weight onto Natasha, his scalding cheek pressed against the wine-red velvet neckline of her dress, mumbling indistinctly.
"So noisy," Lin An's breath, heavy with the scent of vodka, sprayed against that expanse of snow-white skin. "Take me away from here, find a place where no one talks. My head hurts."
He half-closed his eyes, his peripheral vision sweeping over Natasha's profile.
To extract information, this woman had downed as much strong liquor as he had; she probably couldn't even see the road clearly now.
Wanted to play the seductress? Today, I'll show you what it means to play with fire.
Natasha was pushed back half a step, her red-soled high heels wobbling on the carpet.
She steadied herself, a gleam of successful scheming flashing in her eyes.
Just as I intended.
The banquet hall was crowded and noisy, and Tony Starkcould come to stir up trouble at any moment.
Now that this tyrant was in a fragile period of total psychological collapse, as long as she got him into an enclosed, private space and used a few interrogation techniques, she could strip Vought International of all its secrets.
"Alright, let's go rest," Natasha's voice was extremely soft, carrying an irresistible sense of comfort.
She propped up Lin An's arm, half-supporting and half-embracing him as she walked through the noisy crowd toward the VIP guest rooms deep in the corridor.
Lin An cooperated by taking staggering steps, pressing most of his body against Natasha's sizzling curves.
This little black cat's waist was truly soft.
Lin An was overjoyed inside.
"Slow down, Boss, watch the steps," Natasha's breathing was heavy; Lin An's tall body pressed against her like a heavy little mountain.
She gritted her teeth, her high heels treading on the thick carpet as she walked step by step toward the presidential suite at the end of the corridor.
"Click."
The heavy solid wood door was pushed open and quickly closed again.
Natasha reached back and pressed the metal deadbolt.
The jazz music and noise outside were completely cut off.
The main lights in the room were not turned on; only the brilliant neon of Manhattan filtered in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting ambiguous shadows on the thick carpet.
Natasha helped Lin An to the large double bed.
As soon as he touched the mattress, Lin An rolled over and lay on his back in the soft bedding.
He loosened his tie, his custom-made suit jacket crumpled, and two shirt buttons popped open, revealing a large expanse of sturdy chest.
Natasha stood by the bed, rubbing her throbbing temples.
The aftereffects of the Russian Water of Life had finally fully kicked in.
Her vision began to blur, her stomach felt like it was burning, and even her breath became scalding hot.
That high-concentration alcohol was frantically eroding the Agent nerves she prided herself on.
Can't sleep.
She bit her tongue hard, the rust-like taste of blood spreading in her mouth, forcibly regaining a bit of clarity.
The mission wasn't finished yet; this tyrant had just exposed his most vulnerable side, and now was the perfect opportunity to pry his mouth open.
As long as she got the core data on Vought International's human experiments, Nick Fury would be able to completely take the initiative.
She planted her hands on either side of Lin An's body and leaned down slightly.
The wine-red deep-V dress sagged downward due to gravity, exposing a large, breathtaking expanse of snow-white skin in the dim light.
"Boss," Natasha's voice carried a heavy nasal tone and deliberately feigned concern.
"You said earlier that Vought International locked you in a freezer, but what about now? Where did they hide those important experimental data? Tell me, I'll help you destroy them, and no one will ever be able to threaten you again."
So dedicated, not forgetting to fish for information even when this drunk.
Lin An half-closed his eyes, looking at that stunning face hovering above him.
Those emerald eyes, usually full of shrewdness and calculation, were now shimmering with moisture due to the catalysis of alcohol, the corners of her eyes stained with a moving crimson.
The view deep within her neckline was dizzying under the reflection of the neon lights.
Since you want to play, I'll play big with you.
Lin An did not answer her question.
He suddenly raised that large, rough palm and precisely grabbed Natasha's wrist, which was braced on the bedsheet.
The calluses on his fingertips rubbed heavily against the fragile veins on the inside of her wrist.
Natasha gasped.
Before she could make a defensive move, Lin An's arm exerted sudden force.
The world spun.
A sense of weightlessness struck, and Natasha was pulled down by an irresistible force, slamming heavily onto Lin An's broad, hard chest.
"What are you doing!"
This impact made her already muddled brain even more dizzy. She braced her hands against Lin An's pectoral muscles, trying to push her body up and create some distance.
Lin An didn't give her any chance to escape.
He wrapped his hands around her slender waist and flipped over, directly reversing their positions on the bed.
His tall body was like an insurmountable mountain, pinning Natasha firmly beneath him.
The huge size difference was vividly displayed at this moment; Natasha was like prey pressed under the claws of a tiger.
"Don't move."
Lin An's voice was terrifyingly hoarse, carrying a heavy nasal tone.
He buried his face into the crook of Natasha's slender neck, his high-bridged nose rubbing against the sensitive skin behind her ear.
"I'm cold!" Lin An tightened his arms, pinning her firmly in his embrace, his tone revealing a near-desperate paranoia. "Don't leave me alone..."
This sentence was like a vicious spell, accurately shattering the rational defenses Natasha had just built.
Her hands braced against Lin An's chest froze.
Cold?
She tried to tell herself with reason that this was just an extremely dangerous superhuman, but her body betrayed her brain's commands.
Her originally resisting hands slowly moved upward, finally climbing weakly onto Lin An's broad shoulders, gently stroking the taut muscles of his back.
Feeling the woman's submission beneath him, the arc of Lin An's lips grew wider.
The defense was broken.
The rest was just laying siege and conquering territory.
He didn't rush into the next rough action, but instead, with a very patient rhythm, slowly tortured the other person's senses.
His rough fingertips probed into the large cutout design on the back of Natasha's dress.
His scalding fingertips made contact with that cool, delicate skin, sparking a fine tremor.
Lin An's fingers climbed upward along the skeletal texture of her spine, one vertebra at a time, finally resting on her fair shoulder blades, kneading them with just the right amount of pressure.
"Mmm..."
A suppressed groan spilled from Natasha's throat.
She bit her lower lip tightly, trying to stop that strange, numbing sensation from spreading along her spine.
But the alcohol had deprived her of the self-control she prided herself on, and her body was uncontrollably responding to that scalding touch.
Lin An's lips were still pressed against the crook of her neck.
His hot, moist breath, carrying a strong sense of masculine aggression, completely enveloped Natasha.
The temperature in the room was rising sharply.
Lin An's knee forcefully pushed between her slender legs, rubbing the high-slit wine-red skirt all the way up.
Natasha's breathing was completely chaotic.
Her chest heaved violently, the two astonishingly soft mounds inevitably pressing tightly against Lin An's hard pectoral muscles, rubbing against them with the rhythm of her breathing.
She could feel the changes in Lin An's body. That oppressive heat and hardness were pressing unreservedly against the edge of her skirt.
Danger.
The Agent's intuition sounded an alarm deep in her mind. She couldn't continue; if she went any further, she would completely fall into this monster's rhythm and become a plaything dominated by lust.
"Boss... let go..."
Chapter 36: The Awakening of a Top Agent
Natasha's voice was so soft that even she felt it was unfamiliar, carrying a plea she hadn't even realized she was making.
She tried to push away the head buried in the crook of her neck.
"No... Mmm..."
Just as she wanted to refuse, Lin An blocked her mouth without any room for argument.
This was not a gentle kiss, but a violent plunder.
Natasha's body trembled violently, her hands instinctively pressing against Lin An's pectoral muscles to push him away, but that bit of strength was like tickling in front of Homelander.
"Don't be afraid, leave it to me." Lin An's Adam's apple rolled up and down, terrifying desire churning in the depths of his eyes.
Natasha only felt a strange current of heat surging wildly from her lower abdomen, leaving a numbing sensation wherever it passed.
She had undergone the strictest anti-interrogation training; she could withstand truth serum, she could withstand electric shocks, but she had never practiced how to resist the absolute power of a man who possessed a god-like physique and an extremely oppressive presence.
"Ugh..." A broken whimper escaped from the corner of her lips.
Her hands, which had originally been pressed against Lin An's chest, had somehow climbed softly around his neck.
...
The neon light from outside the window spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the large bed, casting two intertwined shadows.
Lin An did not give her any more chance to think, completely tearing apart the last obstacle between the two.
The night was thick and impenetrable.
In the room, only Natasha's broken whimpers and Lin An's Beast-like gasps remained, intertwined together.
It was a kind of complete sinking and conquest.
A full two hours, just a little bit worse than the handsome guys in front of the screen.
The movement in the room finally subsided.
Clothes were scattered all over the floor; that wine-red velvet dress had already been torn into a rag.
Like a cat exhausted to the extreme, Natasha curled up in the quilt and fell into a deep sleep.
Lin An leaned against the headboard and casually lit a cigarette he had found in the nightstand.
The blue-white smoke rose in wisps in the dim room.
Satisfying.
This is the treatment a transmigrator should have.
What Superheroes, what saving the World—how could that be more real than pinning the top female Agent of the Marvel Universe underneath him and making her sing in submission?
What satisfied him even more was that the energy boost brought by the first generation compound v was simply perverted.
After tossing about for so long, not only was he not the least bit tired, but he felt refreshed and invigorated, without even a sore waist.
He turned his head and looked at the sleeping Natasha, a wicked sneer curling the corner of his mouth.
This is the method of a capitalist; you want my intelligence?
Fine, trade it for your most precious asset!
...
The next day, the severe pain of a hangover stirred wildly in her brain like an awl.
Natasha opened her eyes with difficulty; the dazzling Sunlight slashed in through the gap in the curtains that hadn't been pulled shut.
She felt as if she had been run over back and forth by a heavy truck a dozen times, her bones feeling like they were about to fall apart.
What was even more fatal was that her chest felt like it was being pressed by a branding iron.
A sharp-angled face was close at hand.
That tyrant, regarded by the whole World as a god, was sleeping soundly with his eyes closed at this moment.
And his large, rough palm was buried perfectly against her chest, unscrupulously occupying the softest territory.
Natasha's breathing stalled instantly.
She abruptly lifted a corner of the quilt. What met her eyes was a mess of skin, with shocking red marks spreading from her collarbone all the way to the base of her thighs.
The scenes from last night—the madness, the loss of control, even the traces of humiliation—exploded in her mind like a carousel.
It's over.
What the hell did I do?!
Natasha bit her lip hard, not letting herself make a sound.
What happened to getting him drunk to extract intelligence? What happened to breaking through his psychological defenses?
As a result, she hadn't even extracted a punctuation mark of intelligence, and instead, she had been swallowed alive by this Beast that was as energetic as a monster.
A top S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, the ace of the Red Room, had actually flipped over in a man's bed.
Lin An had actually woken up a long time ago.
The perverted recovery ability brought by the first generation compound v meant he didn't even have a single second of fatigue.
He was just keeping his eyes closed, enjoying the amazing tactile sensation in his hand, and incidentally using his super hearing to appreciate the frantic heartbeat of this little black cat.
"What's wrong, little black cat?"
Lin An opened his eyes; in those blue eyes, there was not a trace of hangover haziness, only undisguised playfulness.
Not only did he not let go, but he wickedly gave it a squeeze.
"So energetic early in the morning, do you want to have morning exercises again?"
Natasha gasped in pain.
In normal times, she would have long since used a scissor kick to wring this bastard's neck.
But not now.
She closed her eyes, forcibly suppressing the killing intent and annoyance in her heart.
Since she had already paid the cost, she absolutely could not return empty-handed; the training and awakening of an Agent were never just about fighting and killing.
The body is also the ultimate weapon for completing a mission.
She must win his heart, or at least completely infiltrate his core circle.
When she opened her eyes again, the panic in the depths of Natasha's eyes had disappeared without a trace, replaced by a perfectly appropriate coquettishness.
Like a lazy cat, she took the initiative to nuzzle into Lin An's arms, her slender fingers drawing circles on his pectoral muscles.
"No, no, boss, you were so fierce last night, I don't even have the strength to get out of bed now."
Natasha's voice was hoarsely alluring, revealing a post-coital laziness.
Looking at her appearance of being at his mercy, Lin Analmost laughed out loud.
This woman is truly a born actress; even after being tossed around like this, she still doesn't forget to maintain her persona.
But I like it.
Having such a top-notch stunner by his side to play wits with every day, this life is not boring.
Just as Lin An was preparing to roll over and teach this stubborn little black cat another lesson, the suite door was pounded loudly.
"Hey! You two lovebirds inside! The Sun is already high up!"
Tony Stark's annoying voice came through the thick solid wood door.
"Don't tell me you plan to spend the whole weekend in that bed!"
Lin An clicked his tongue and lifted the quilt to get out of bed.
He didn't even bother to cover himself, walking naked to the pile of clothes scattered on the floor, picking out clothes that could still be worn.
Natasha quickly grabbed a bath towel to wrap herself, nimbly cleaning up the aftermath.
Five minutes later, Lin An opened the door wearing a somewhat wrinkled shirt.
Tony stood outside the door, his face glowing, but with obvious dark circles under his eyes.
Obviously, this playboy hadn't been idle last night either.
"Yo, our big Superhero."
Tony poked his head in to look at the room, his gaze falling on Natasha who was fixing her hair, and he gave a frivolous whistle.
"Why are you only eating the grass near your nest when you could have the Hollywood models I prepared for you?"
Tony leaned against the doorframe, "Life assistant? Ha, your job scope is defined really broadly."
"Tch."
Lin An rolled his eyes unceremoniously.
"You have the nerve to talk about me? Look at your kidney-deficient look. What, did those cover girls last night drain you dry?"
"I rely on my own hard work, unlike you with your superpowers."
Tony said with a sour expression.
Bzz—
Just as Lin An was about to say a few more snarky words, his phone vibrated with a message.
"Boss, a bearded man claiming to be Butcher says he wants to see you."
It was a message from Madelyn.
"Alright. I have things to do at the company, what do you need?"
"Some details about the Battle Royale program; come find me after you finish your company business." Tonyshrugged.
Lin An nodded and turned to look at Natasha, who was still fixing her styling.
"Little wild cat, I'll give you a day off today; go back and rest well."
After saying this, he didn't look at her reaction anymore and walked out of the room, preparing to return to the company.
Natasha rolled her eyes; she was still planning to strike while the iron was hot and ask for some high-level Vought permissions...
This heartless, cold-blooded man!
Chapter 37: The Boys? It's the Vought InternationalDisciplinary Committee!
Top floor of Vought Tower.
Lin An returned from Tony's Villa, and Madelyn pushed the door open with a strange expression on her face, her high heels clicking against the floor.
"Boss, the front desk downstairs... those two have been waiting for a long time."
Lin An was leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the matchbox-like city below, and his lips couldn't help but curl up slightly at the words.
They're here.
This old guy says he doesn't believe it, but his body is quite honest.
Figured it out in one night? It seems Becca's prescription is even more potent than I thought.
"Let them come up." Lin An turned around and sat back in his boss chair with a commanding air. "By the way, bring over the top-secret non-disclosure agreement and the employment contract that the legal department prepared."
Madelyn nodded and turned to leave, but her heart was in turmoil.
Butcher! That man marked as "Extremely Dangerous" in Vought International's internal files—Homelander actually wants to see him and even give him an employment contract?
Homelander's thoughts are truly hard to guess now.
Top floor office of Vought Tower.
Lin An tossed his custom phone onto the marble tabletop.
The door was pushed open.
Madelyn led the two men in, handed the contract to Lin An, and then retreated.
Billy Butcher had changed into a relatively clean black leather jacket.
His full beard had clearly been trimmed; although he still looked rugged, the madness of a dying Beast he had before was gone.
Frenchie, behind him, looked like a hobo who had stumbled into a high-end restaurant, nervously rubbing his hands.
Butcher walked straight up to the large desk.
He kept his hands in his jacket pockets, standing straight, trying to maintain the last shred of his dignity as a man in this conversation.
"I'm here," Butcher said in a deep voice, "but I need to make things clear."
Lin An leaned back in his boss chair, crossing his legs and resting them on the edge of the desk, looking at him with a half-smile.
"Speak."
"I don't actually believe your nonsense," Butcher stared into Lin An's eyes, speaking slowly and emphasizing every word, "and I'm not here to be your dog."
The words were spoken with conviction, but Lin An could tell there wasn't much killing intent behind them.
A man with a wife has reservations even when making threats.
"I'm here to supervise you," Butcher continued, pointing at the building beneath his feet. "If I find out that Vought International's Superheroes are still doing those heinous things behind the scenes, if you people still treat human lives like grass..."
Butcher paused.
"I will personally dig up all your disgusting secrets and make you pay the price."
This was the harshest thing Butcher could say.
Lin An wasn't angry at all; in fact, he felt like laughing.
He tossed the contract folder onto the table. It slid half a meter across the smooth surface and stopped precisely at Butcher's hand.
Butcher frowned and opened the folder with a wary expression.
The first line he saw was the position: Disciplinary Supervisor of Vought International.
Bypassing all high-level management and reporting directly to Homelander.
That wasn't even the main thing. What really made Butcher's gaze lock firmly was the compensation and benefits section.
Base monthly salary: $30,000.
Eligible for Vought International internal stock option dividends.
At the very bottom was a line of bolded fine print: Family members are entitled to fully covered medical insurance at top-tier private hospitals.
Butcher's Adam's apple bobbed violently.
The tough, death-defying attitude he had just displayed vanished instantly in the face of these numbers and conditions.
Before this, to gather explosives and piece together that broken mech, he had not only emptied all his savings but also taken out high-interest loans from gangs.
He and Frenchie spent their days hiding in leaky Underground Rooms or moldy scrapyards, living like rats in the gutter.
He used to be a desperado ready to take Homelanderdown with him at any moment; he had a worthless life and didn't care at all.
But things were different now.
Becca was back.
He couldn't let Becca continue sleeping in that Underground Room with him where sewage backed up every time it rained.
He had to give her a good life, heal the psychological trauma she had suffered over these eight years, and give her a decent home.
All of this required money, a lot of money.
And the enemy he had hated for eight years was now offering him everything he needed, along with the power to punish Superheroes, all packaged and delivered to him.
Butcher was silent for a full minute.
He slammed the folder shut, the movement so abrupt that even Frenchie next to him was startled.
"This money..." Butcher began, his voice incredibly dry and with a hint of gnashing teeth, "will count as compensation for Becca. Don't think a few stinking dollars can buy me off. I'll still investigate everything I need to."
It's done.
Lin An leaned back in his chair, his grin stretching almost to his ears.
As long as you take this money and sign this paper, you will be the sharpest knife in my hand.
Lin An knew exactly what these Superheroes were like. A-Train could get high and run into people, The Deep could get aroused by a dolphin, and Translucent spent his days hiding in women's restrooms like a pervert.
The system wanted traffic and popularity points. When his artists showed off outside, he, the boss, could get a share of the popularity earnings proportionally. This sounded great.
However, it also stipulated that if his artists caused malicious public negative events that damaged the company's reputation, popularity points would be deducted proportionally.
Lin An's mind was currently focused on orchestrating big events, stealing the spotlight, and accumulating popularity. If this bunch of man-children under his command messed around outside and caused his popularity points to plummet, who could he cry to?
Therefore, he had to find an extremely vicious guard dog to help him keep a close eye on these Superheroes.
Hughie was a good candidate, but he was too soft and lacked the strength. So he was only suitable for performance assessment.
When dealing with stubborn old timers who wouldn't listen to reason, someone like Butcher was needed.
You won't listen? Butcher would dig up your dirtiest secrets, kick down your door, and hold a gun to your head to teach you a lesson.
"Frenchie," Lin An turned his gaze to the short Frenchman. "The entire 75th floor is yours. You're the Head of the Technical R&D Department. Your salary is the same as Butcher's. Your primary mission is to remove those nasty side effects that cause mental instability from Compound V."
Frenchie nodded vigorously.
An entire floor of top-tier laboratories, plus the World's most mysterious Compound V for him to study—compared to his previous life, this was heaven.
"Absolutely no problem, Boss." Frenchie agreed readily, his accent even becoming more enthusiastic.
Lin An nodded in satisfaction.
He pressed the intercom on his desk.
"Madelyn, have Hughie come up."
Before long, the office door was pushed open again.
Hughie walked in wearing a well-tailored dark blue suit.
This suit was clearly new; he wasn't quite used to wearing it, tugging at his tie from time to time.
But the spirit on his face was completely different; he was no longer the timid employee from the electronics store.
He held a tablet in his hand, densely packed with the latest schedule for The Seven.
"Boss, you wanted to see me?" Hughie walked to the desk, his tone filled with undisguised reverence.
Since learning that A-Train had truly been sentenced to life imprisonment, Hughie was now completely devoted to Lin An.
He felt he was participating in a great cause—purifying the Superhero circle.
Lin An pointed to Butcher beside him.
"Hughie, let me introduce you. This is Butcher, the company's newly appointed Disciplinary Supervisor. From today on, he is your new colleague."
Lin An stood up and walked between the two.
"Hughie, you are the supervisor for The Seven, mainly responsible for their public image management and performance monitoring, making sure those guys clock in on time and do more decent things. And Butcher is responsible for digging into their dirty laundry behind the scenes. You two—one in the light, one in the dark. You'll be working together a lot in the future."
Hughie turned his head to look at the man with the full beard and fierce eyes in front of him.
He was actually a bit intimidated by Butcher's gangster-boss aura, but thinking that everyone was working toward the common goal of restraining Superheroes, Hughieimmediately adjusted his mood.
He flashed a friendly smile and reached out his hand.
"Hello, Mr. Butcher. I'm Hughie Campbell. Please guide me in the future; I hope we can work together happily." Hughie's attitude was sincere and polite.
Butcher looked down at the hand that was extended.
This kid looked like a wimp who had never even killed a chicken; Vought International was actually letting an ordinary person like this manage those monsters who could fly and move mountains?
However, you don't hit a smiling face.
Butcher kept a cold face, extended his large hand covered in calluses and scars, and shook Hughie's hand.
"Just call me Butcher," he said, shaking it casually as a greeting.
Lin An stood by, watching this historic moment.
In the original series, the first time these two met was in the electronics store, and after they worked together to capture Translucent, Hughie was forced to join The Boys. To kill Homelander and fight against Vought International, the two fought tooth and nail.
But now, they were colleagues at Vought International—it was fucking magical.
The Boys disbanded on the spot and were reorganized into the Vought International Disciplinary Investigation Team?
The joys of a capitalist are truly beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
"Alright, that's enough introductions. Hughie, take them to handle the onboarding procedures, and by the way, take Butcher to see his office." Lin An sat back in his chair and waved his hand to dismiss them.
"Yes, Boss." Hughie nodded respectfully.
Butcher didn't say anything more; he picked up the employment contract from the table and turned to walk out. When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at Lin An.
There was still wariness and scrutiny in his eyes, but it lacked the death-knot hatred that had originally been there.
[Ding! Host has completely rewritten the core plot of The Boys, receiving a popularity reward of 1 million!]
Chapter 38: Punishing Translucent, The Million-Dollar Blind Box for the Battle Royale Airdrop
The system notification echoed in Lin An's mind, sounding even more melodious than the World's finest symphony.
"System, you've really broadened your path! My hard work in manipulating the market didn't go to waste!"
Lin An looked at the glittering string of numbers on the system panel, leaned back in his boss's chair, and contentedly lit a cigar.
He was only five million away from the ten-million mark required to redeem the [Kryptonian Bloodline].
As long as he could get Superman's panel, even if it was just the most basic Kryptonian genes, combined with this body of Homelander, he would finally have a true sense of security in this Marvel Universe, which was filled with perverts and cheaters.
...
One week later.
Vought Tower, 60th-floor public office area.
Over the past few days, Hughie and Butcher had completely finished the handover.
One was in charge of performance attendance, and the other was in charge of conduct and discipline; they had officially set up the makeshift team for the "Vought Disciplinary Committee."
At this moment, Butcher was striding down the corridor covered in thick carpet.
He was wearing a brand-new black trench coat today, stepping in hard-soled leather boots that made dull thuds against the floor.
The top-level access black card around his neck swayed with his movements.
"Butcher, wait for me." Hughie, clutching a tablet computer, panted as he followed from behind.
Working with this British thug who exuded killing intent made Hughie feel like his heart condition was about to flare up.
In the past few days, the way Butcher looked at those superhumans was exactly like a Butcher looking at fat pigs on a cutting board.
"Did you find him?" Butcher didn't even turn his head.
"Uh... I checked this morning's attendance records and the schedule from the Public Relations Department." Hughieswiped quickly on the tablet, a thin layer of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"Translucent didn't go to clock in for his patrol. PR said he canceled two commercial shoots. He... he has been missing for four hours. Even the last signal from his tracking bracelet shows him in the company."
Hughie swallowed hard; since he started the job, what he worried about most was these members of The Seven not listening.
Previously, with Lin An suppressing them, this group was relatively restrained, but old habits die hard; as soon as things relaxed, this mess appeared.
"Four hours? Missing?" Butcher stopped, turned his head, and a vicious smile appeared on his bearded face.
He knew exactly what these drug-addicted bastards were like.
A pervert with invisibility powers and an invulnerable body doesn't show up for four hours—did he go to church for mass?
"Check which floor in this building has the highest concentration of female employees?" Butcher asked in a gruff voice.
Hughie paused for a moment, then quickly tapped his tablet. "The 72nd floor, the centralized office area for Administration and Public Relations. There... there are over a hundred young female employees. Why?"
"Let's go." Butcher turned directly toward the elevator. "Today, I'm going to teach you a lesson on how to set rules for these perverts."
72nd floor, women's locker room.
In the spacious and bright restroom, several female employees wearing tight skirts and high heels were applying makeup and changing clothes in front of the mirror.
No one noticed that in the shadows in the far corner, the air had a slight, unnatural distortion.
Translucent was naked, squatting in the blind spot under the air vent.
He felt absolutely great.
This was life.
Although he had been severely warned by the boss a while ago and had behaved for a while, he simply couldn't help himself.
As long as he didn't cause a big commotion, could Hughiecatch an invisible person like him?
Just as he was enjoying the scenery before him.
Bang!
The solid wood restroom door was violently kicked open; the lock shattered, and wood splinters flew everywhere.
The female employees let out ear-piercing screams, and those changing clothes quickly pulled up their clothes to cover themselves.
Butcher burst in like a black bear, his black trench coat whipping up a gust of wind behind him.
Hughie followed behind, terrified, quickly covering his eyes and apologizing repeatedly.
"Vought Disciplinary Committee enforcing the law, unauthorized personnel get out." Butcher said coldly to the few terrified female employees.
The women screamed and ran out of the changing room, knocking aside the people outside who were watching the commotion.
"I know you're in here, you bastard." Butcher backhanded the half-broken door shut, then pulled a silver metal spray can from his trench coat pocket.
That was the latest black technology kindly sponsored by Tony Stark—a highly targeted Stark high-frequency infrared imaging spray.
In the corner, Translucent panicked.
Who is this bearded guy? From the Security Department?
But relying on his carbon-fiber-like skin, he didn't move at all.
He didn't believe a normal person could do anything to him.
Butcher didn't waste any words; he aimed the spray can directly at several blind spots in the restroom where someone might be hiding and pressed down.
Pshhh—
A large cloud of pungent red spray instantly filled the air.
This spray contained special adhesive nanoparticles that would emit intense infrared fluorescence the moment they touched any solid surface.
"Fuck!" A furious curse suddenly came from the corner.
A humanoid silhouette covered in red fluorescent powder instantly appeared in the air.
"Caught you, you randy dog." Butcher grinned, revealing his Stark white teeth.
"Who the fuck are you? Daring to spray me with this piece of junk!" Translucent was forced to materialize and roared furiously.
He straightened up and swung his fist toward Butcher. "I'm part of The Seven! I'm the face of Vought International! Are you tired of living?"
Hughie screamed from the side: "Butcher, watch out! Even armor-piercing rounds can't penetrate his skin!"
"Armor-piercing rounds can't penetrate?" Butcher didn't retreat but advanced, and the moment that red fist was about to strike his cheek, he dodged sharply to the side.
Years of muscle memory from fighting for his life allowed him to slide to Translucent's side.
Immediately after, Butcher pulled a pitch-black metal baton from his trench coat.
Zzzzt—
The tip of the baton instantly erupted with blinding blue electric arcs.
This wasn't an ordinary stun baton; it was an industrial-grade high-voltage pulse generator custom-made by Stark Industries, specifically designed to paralyze the circuits of heavy mechs.
Butcher didn't even look at Translucent's upper body; his arm muscles bulged, and he thrust the sizzling high-voltage stun baton with extreme precision and ruthlessness into Translucent's unprotected rear orifice.
"Fuck! Aaaaaahhh—!!!"
A piercing, miserable scream instantly shattered the ceiling of the 72nd floor.
Translucent's skin was indeed incredibly hard, but his internal intestines and mucous membranes couldn't withstand it.
Tens of thousands of volts of pulsed current went directly through the most vulnerable passage, instantly piercing through his internal organs.
Translucent's body twitched violently, his eyes rolled back, and white foam gushed from his mouth.
He collapsed stiffly onto the restroom tiles, passing out completely before he could even scream a full plea for mercy. His lower body was still emitting charred black smoke, giving off a nauseating smell of roasted meat.
Hughie stood at the door, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
Is this how the Disciplinary Committee works?
Butcher ignored Hughie's shock.
He crouched down, grabbed Translucent's ankle, and walked out.
He had to let that Homelander upstairs see just how useful he, Billy Butcher, could be now that he was getting paid.
Ten minutes later.
Vought Tower top floor, CEO's office.
The heavy door was pushed open. Butcher dragged the charred, occasionally twitching Translucent inside with one hand.
Dragging a long, burnt-smelling trail across the carpet.
Bang.
Butcher let go and threw Translucent in front of the large desk.
Lin An was leaning back in his boss's chair, drinking milk.
Seeing this scene, not only did he not get angry, but he raised an eyebrow, a curve of interest tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Boss, this is today's attendance violator." Hughie followed in, biting the bullet, pointing at Translucent on the floor to explain, "Translucent... he spent four hours in the women's locker room."
Butcher, hands in his trench coat pockets, head held high, stared straight at Lin An with his bloodshot eyes.
"I've dragged him out. Just as you said, legally rubbing their faces in the dirt." Butcher's voice carried a hint of skepticism. "Now, it's your turn to make a decision. How do you plan to deal with this piece of trash who only knows how to peep?"
He was testing him.
Testing whether this sanctimonious Homelander would actually dare to touch his own company's cash cow.
If Lin An was just putting on a show, scolding Translucentand letting him go, then he would resign and leave immediately.
Lin An put down his cup and stood up from his boss's chair.
He walked around the desk to the front of Translucent, who was covered in red powder and emitting charred smoke.
Translucent finally woke up, stimulated by the static electricity on the carpet.
He clutched his butt in pain, and as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw his boss looking down at him.
"Boss... save me!" Translucent cried out. "This crazy bearded man stabbed me with an electric baton! I'm a member of The Seven! I'm an asset of Vought International!"
"An asset?" Lin An lifted his right foot, clad in a red and blue boot, and mercilessly stomped on Translucent's face, crushing his pleas for mercy back into his throat.
"Did you treat what I said earlier as farting? Whoever dares to break my rules must accept punishment!"
"No! I was wrong! Don't kill me!" Translucent's face was deformed from the stomping, his eyes widened in terror as he struggled desperately, but that foot pinned him down so he couldn't move at all.
"Kill you? That's too cheap. Since you like hiding so much, and like playing hide-and-seek so much..." Lin An turned his head to look at Hughie, who was standing to the side.
"Hughie, contact Tony Stark. Tell him that for the Deserted Island Battle Royale program, I've prepared a special surprise blind box for him." A cruel curve pulled at the corner of Lin An's mouth, the cold-bloodedness of a capitalist displayed vividly at this moment.
"Pack up this piece of trash, and before the program starts, airdrop him directly onto that island in the Pacific Ocean."
Lin An moved his foot away and looked down coldly at the shivering Translucent on the ground. "Tell all the contestants that there's an appetizer added. Whoever can find this invisible idiot on the island, regardless of whether they make it to the end, gets a reward of one million U.S. dollars."
A chill ran down Hughie's spine.
Throwing a pervert with no offensive capabilities into a pile of superhumans who would risk their lives for money—wouldn't he just become a slaughtered chick?
"No! You can't do this! I'll die! Boss, I was wrong!" Translucent completely broke down, ignoring the severe pain in his lower body, kneeling on the ground and kowtowing frantically.
"Take him away and lock him up." Lin An waved his hand in disgust.
A flash of shock crossed Butcher's eyes.
He had originally thought Lin An would at most fire this bastard, but he hadn't expected the methods to be even more ruthless than his own.
Recycling waste, squeezing out the last bit of surplus value.
Chapter 39: The Meat Grinder for the Greedy and Meeting Ryan
Tony's Villa laboratory.
Tony tapped a few times on the virtual keyboard, and a topographical map of a massive deserted island in the Pacific Ocean was projected into mid-air.
"This is the island you specifically requested. The engineering team from Stark Industries has already arrived on-site, but progress is slower than expected."
Tony pointed to a red zone in the center of the island.
"The geological structure here is anomalous; there is a massive area of high-intensity magnetic field interference underground. My drones lose connection the moment they fly in."
Lin An stared at the red zone, a cold sneer curling the corner of his mouth.
Magnetic field interference? Does this even need thinking about? It must be that old bastard Magneto who went there to scout ahead.
"Don't worry about it." Lin An waved his hand casually, dispersing the red holographic projection. "Have the engineering team bypass that area. As long as the peripheral surveillance cameras and signal towers are built, that's all that matters."
Tony's brows instantly knitted into a tight knot.
"Don't worry about it? Buddy, even though your show is billed as a Battle Royale, our agreed-upon premise is'safety mechanisms'!" Tony tapped heavily on the edge of the holographic table. "Every contestant has a surrender button on their wristband. Press the button, the energy shield deploys, and my rescue drones will extract them within thirty seconds. This is the bottom line!"
Tony stared at Lin An, his tone serious.
"But now that old madman Magneto has snuck in! That red zone is a death trap. If he goes on a rampage in there, it won't be a competitive reality show anymore; it will be a slaughter."
"Tony, do you have some misunderstanding about my capabilities?"
Lin An rested his hands on the holographic table and leaned forward, his blue eyes exuding a suffocating sense of oppression.
"With me here, there won't be any accidents."
Tony's expression softened slightly, but he remained full of doubt.
"Then what if someone doesn't even get the chance to call for surrender? Magneto doesn't need a casting time to kill someone."
"That is their own choice."
Lin An stood up straight, his tone becoming cold and matter-of-fact.
"Every contestant who signed up signed a death waiver for Vought International. For that one hundred million dollar prize, and to show their faces in front of the whole World, they voluntarily walked into this meat grinder. If there really are those naive fools who can't read the situation and insist on confronting Magneto just for attention, only to be twisted into a pretzel..."
Lin An spread his hands, a smile devoid of warmth curling his lips.
"Who can they blame? Adults must pay for their own greed. I only provided them with a stage, not a full-time babysitting service."
Tony fell silent.
He picked up that cup of terrible-tasting vegetable juice and took a fierce gulp.
Lin An's words were harsh, even reeking of a capitalist's cold-bloodedness, but there were no holes in his logic.
There are too many lunatics in this World who want to reach the top in one leap.
Even if they know it's a suicide mission, as long as the prize money is high enough, there will still be people lining up to die.
"Fine." Tony scratched his hair irritably. "As long as the surrender rules are still in place, I will continue to perfect the rescue mechanism. But if the situation truly spirals out of control, I will immediately cut off all live broadcast signals."
"Deal." Lin An agreed readily.
Cut the signal? My system wouldn't allow that.
"One more thing." Tony pulled up another file. "Someone from the Military wants to intervene. General Ross just called me this morning; he wants to insert a special forces unit inside, under the guise of 'maintaining order'."
"Ross?"
Lin An scoffed.
That old geezer has nothing but Super Soldier Serum on his mind; he must be eyeing the participating Mutants, wanting to take advantage of the chaos to capture a few for dissection and research.
"Let him send them."
Lin An leaned back onto the sofa and crossed his legs.
"Tell him that Vought International welcomes the Military's cooperation. But I set the rules. Anyone who goes in must also sign a death waiver. If his pride-and-joy special forces unit gets torn to shreds by Mutants on the island, don't blame me for not warning him."
"You are playing with fire, buddy." Tony sighed.
"If I don't play with fire, how can I hype the ratings to the maximum?" Lin An stood up and straightened his shirt collar. "Alright, leave the technical stuff to you; I'm going to see the kid."
Tony shook his head.
"Locking Magneto, the Military, and a bunch of reckless super-powered individuals all in one cage—if this pot of porridge explodes, even you won't be able to contain it."
"Contain it?"
Lin An laughed, the laughter echoing in the empty laboratory, carrying absolute arrogance.
"As long as there is traffic, on this Planet, there is no situation I cannot contain."
Tony was just about to tease him, but suddenly realized something and looked shocked.
"Kid? Buddy, you have a child?"
Lin An shrugged. "A small accident."
...
Emerging from Tony's laboratory, Lin An felt completely refreshed.
The pre-hype for the Battle Royale show was fermenting crazily across the global network, and the popularity points on his system panel were skyrocketing every second.
Everything was under control.
Lin An raised his wrist and glanced at his watch.
The time was just right.
Ten minutes later.
New York, Fifth Avenue, the largest Toys "R" Us in the U.S.
Wearing sunglasses and a high-end casual suit, Lin Anwalked straight towards the central collectible display cabinet, amidst the frequent side-glances of the parents with children around him.
"This one, this one, and that pile over there. Yes, bring out that Death Star set that takes up the most space, and that limited-edition Batmobile."
Lin An pointed with his index finger repeatedly, his posture as casual as if he were picking out cabbage at a vegetable market.
"Sir, these are all out-of-print collectibles..." The sales clerk swallowed, eyes gleaming with greed; these sets added up to at least ten thousand U.S. dollars.
"Swipe the card, wrap them up, and put them directly in my car."
A pitch-black Vought International black card was slapped directly onto the glass counter.
He said he'd buy the full set of LEGOs for his cheap son; if even one piece was missing, he'd consider himself the loser.
The little guy was a superhuman born with Homelander's genes. Being a father for the first time, Lin An did indeed feel a strange flutter in his heart.
Today was the big day for closing the net.
New York, Upper East Side, a private café cleared out by Vought International.
Lin An pushed open the heavy glass door.
There was no background music playing; it was so quiet that one could only hear the crisp sound of ice cubes hitting glass cups.
Just half a step inside, a sob with a heavy nasal tone reached him.
"Mom..."
In a secluded booth by the window, Ryan's eyes were bloodshot.
His two small hands were clutching Becca's hem tightly, his knuckles turning white.
Becca's eyes were bloodshot; she had clearly just finished crying.
She had only just reunited with Butcher, and today she had to personally hand over her own flesh and blood to Homelander, the man who had once filled her with fear down to her marrow.
To preserve Butcher's pathetic self-esteem and paranoid hatred, she had to cruelly cut a line between her husband and her son.
If she hadn't seen Homelander's changes with her own eyes, she would never have been able to take this step.
"Mom, do you have a new dad now, so you don't want me anymore?"
Ryan looked up with his tear-stained little face, tears falling drop by drop.