Chapter 106: Boy Band — Old Boys
Fourth underground floor, special cryogenic containment zone.
The refrigeration motors hummed, and the cold air drilled straight into one's collar.
Lin An pulled up a plastic chair, sat outside the bulletproof glass wall, and slowly peeled an orange.
On the inside of the glass, Soldier Boy was fixed to the wall with titanium alloy chains.
The burly man was covered in ice crystals and shivering, yet his mouth never stopped spewing profanities, greeting everyone from Lin An's ancestors eighteen generations back to the laboratory's glass test tubes.
"This old guy has been cursing for half a day, and his vocabulary is quite rich."
Lin An chewed on the orange and raised his hand to tap on the glass.
Steve and Logan stood behind Lin An to the side. The two exchanged a glance, both seeing guilt in each other's eyes.
Cold sweat broke out on Steve's back.
Why did this tyrant suddenly call them to the freezer together?
Could it be that he discovered that the day before yesterday, he had accidentally liked a post on Twittersaying that Homelander wasn't as handsome as Captain America?
Logan rubbed the seam of his pants uneasily with two fingers.
It's over.
It must be that yesterday, when he secretly stuffed a cigarette butt into Homelander's office drawer, Hughiechecked the surveillance footage and found out.
This lunatic is trying to make an example of us today, to freeze us together with that old madman inside.
Steve moved half a step forward and cleared his throat: "Boss, my recent personal promotional cooperation has been very high. I cancelled that like a long time ago..."
Logan also hurriedly chimed in: "I'll quit cigars, really. I'll never smoke in the company building again."
Lin An rolled his eyes.
These two living fossils, who added up to nearly three hundred years old, were in the late stages of paranoia.
"Who cares about your trivial nonsense."
Lin An pressed the red button on the console.
The pressure valve let out a "hiss," the heavy alloy door lifted upwards, and a large cloud of cold mist surged out.
Benjamin inside shivered, raised his head, and his bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Lin An.
He grinned and spat on the ground, "Let me out! Don't you know how to respect your elders? I am your father!"
Lin An stood up and twisted his neck.
Damn it, you still dare to act like a father in front of me?
A red light flashed across his eyes.
Hiss—
Two high-heat beams precisely sliced over Benjamin's head, and that unruly brown curly hair was instantly scorched into a patchy bald spot, with the scalp charred black.
The burnt smell of barbecue permeated the freezer.
"Ah—!" Benjamin screamed, "You ill-bred bas..."
Before he could finish, Lin An's figure had already solidified in front of him.
He grabbed Benjamin's neck with one hand and, like pulling a radish, ripped him and the two-ton alloy chains straight off the wall, pinning him to the ground with a backhand.
Fists fell.
One punch, two punches, three punches.
Benjamin's skin, which could withstand a nuclear bomb, was no tougher than printer paper in front of a supernova-level body.
The bridge of his nose broke upon impact, and two front teeth flew out mixed with blood foam.
Steve and Logan watched from behind, their eyelids twitching.
Lin An got tired of hitting him, stood up, and wiped the blood off the back of his hand onto his pant leg.
"Are you sober now?"
He squatted down and patted Benjamin's cheek, which was swollen like a pig's head, "You outdated antique who lived from the last century to now, you don't have a shred of commercial value, and you still dare to act like a father in front of me?"
Benjamin spat out a mouthful of blood and panted heavily.
He was beaten into submission.
"What exactly do you want to let me out?" Benjamin asked through gritted teeth.
"Seeing as you're pathetic, I'll give you a chance at re-employment."
Lin An took out a thick contract and threw it directly onto Benjamin's face.
"Sign it and work for Vought International. As long as you can prove your value, I guarantee you won't have to go back into the freezer to freeze."
Benjamin grabbed the contract, gritted his teeth, and finally bit his finger to press a bloody handprint on the last page.
Fuck, whatever the contract is, it's better than being an icicle for the rest of his life.
He was, after all, a first-generation Superhero. Once he got out and escaped this lunatic's sight, there would be plenty of ways to run.
Lin An was amused.
This old guy was quite sensible.
He stood up, clapped his hands, and turned to look at Steve and Logan, who were still in a daze.
"Very good. The personnel are all here."
Lin An pointed at Benjamin, who had just climbed up from the ground, and then pointed at Steve and Logan.
"From today on, you three will officially form an idol boy band. I've already thought of the group name—'Old Boys'."
The freezer was silent for a full ten seconds.
Steve's eyes widened instantly.
An idol boy band?
Him?
Captain America?
Logan looked bewildered.
Having lived for over a hundred years, this was the first time he had heard such an absurd arrangement.
Benjamin had just stood firm when his legs went weak and he almost fell again.
"Boy band? I'm a soldier! You want me to go on stage and shake my ass for a bunch of idiots?"
"Otherwise what? Keep you in the company as a mascot and pay you for doing nothing?" Lin An said righteously.
"What makes the most money these days? Male sex appeal! You three add up to over three hundred years old, focusing on a battle-damaged tough guy style."
"The Superheroes in the Marvel Universe only know how to save the World every day; they have no sense of entertainment."
"Even Odin would have to buy a front-row ticket for this contrast."
"I'm not doing it!" Logan shook his hands, and six Adamantium claws "swished" out.
"I'd rather go back to the forest and chop wood; you can kill me, but I won't go and be some damn idol!"
"That's not up to you. I've already thought of your role: the wild one."
Lin An pointed at Logan, "Young girls these days eat up your kind of unkempt, sloppy uncle style. Grow your beard longer, and when you dance, remember to pull your collar and show your chest hair."
Logan's stomach churned, and he felt like even his claws were trembling.
Steve looked troubled: "Boss, this... is undignified. My persona is the righteous, serious American spirit; this doesn't fit the company's market positioning."
"You are the ascetic, old-cadre type."
Lin An cut him off directly.
"Wear a three-piece suit and put on gold-rimmed glasses. When you dance, you need to show that feeling of being unwilling, yet forced to twist your hips. Audiences love watching a high-and-mighty flower being dragged down from the pedestal, understand?"
Benjamin cursed loudly: "Test-tube freak, are you crazy! Do you understand how majestic I was when I fought the Nazis back then? You want me to go and sell my looks?"
"The grumpy father figure is you."
Lin An arranged everything clearly for the three of them, "You are responsible for shouting a few lines at the camera during the chorus, and then violently tearing your shirt."
Without waiting for the three to resist, Lin An took out the contract that had just been signed.
He flipped to page 38 and pointed at the ant-sized text at the bottom.
"Your contracts are all the same. Come on, read it." Lin Anshoved the paper into Steve's face.
Steve narrowed his eyes and struggled to recognize it.
"Party B... must unconditionally cooperate with all commercial affairs arranged by Vought International; the final interpretation right belongs to Party A."
Steve was silenced.
The traps in a capitalist's contract are impossible to guard against.
Logan brandished his claws: "This is contract fraud."
"Oh? So you want to violate the treaty? It seems everyone has some opinions."
Lin An loosened his wrists and walked towards the three with a grimace.
Ten minutes later.
There were three large pits on the floor of the freezer.
Three of Logan's Adamantium claws were bent, Steve's uniform had become tattered rags, and Benjamin was lying on the ground panting like a dog.
The three tough guys, who added up to several hundred years old, knelt in a row, bruised and swollen.
"Now, are there any other objections to the Old Boys project?"
Lin An sat back in his chair and cracked open a can of soda.
The three shook their heads in unison, panicked.
This lunatic's fists were the greatest objection eliminator.
"Very good, wouldn't it have been easier to cooperate earlier? You had to force me to use force. How many people would envy your salary? It's just selling a bit of sex appeal. These days, it's all about laughing at the poor, not the prostitutes."
Lin An said earnestly.
The three were speechless and did not refute.
Seeing that the three were obedient, Lin An nodded satisfactorily and clapped his hands. "Starlight, come in."
Outside the door, Starlight, wearing her suit, walked in step by step, clutching a tablet.
She had heard all the screaming from outside just now and didn't want to take on this wicked, life-shortening job at all.
"The three of them are yours." Lin An pointed at the three bruised rough men on the ground, "You are their dance instructor."
Starlight felt her scalp go numb.
Teaching Captain America, Wolverine, and Soldier Boy to dance?
This was more fatal than letting her go one-on-one with Magneto.
Lin An stood up, walked to Starlight, and tapped the tablet in her hand with his knuckles.
"I checked the latest TikTok hot list; that suggestive leg-sweep dance is very popular, and the traffic is very high."
Lin An issued a death order.
"Within three days, you must get the three of them to learn it. The movements must be neat, and the expressions must be on point. The live debut is in three days; if you mess it up, your annual performance bonus will be deducted."
Starlight lowered her head and clicked on the reference video on the tablet.
On the screen, several young boys in tight shorts were frantically twisting their hips at the camera, their thighs sweeping back and forth, accompanied by brainwashing electronic music...
It was too flirtatious to look at.
Starlight looked at the video, then turned to look at the three hundred-year-old tough guys kneeling on the ground, full of stubble and muscles.
She imagined the scene of Steve sweeping his legs in a three-piece suit, Logan pulling his collar and twisting his hips, and Benjamin roaring while tearing his shirt...
A chill shot straight from her tailbone to the top of her head.
She would rather have the end of the World come right now.
"Um..." Starlight swallowed hard.
"Captain, Mr. Logan, and this... elder... shall we... shall we start with some basic stretching?"
Chapter 107: Tough Guy Boy Band, Dancing Online
Vought Tower, top-floor dance training room.
Deafening electronic music was assaulting everyone's eardrums at an unreasonable volume.
Do-do-do-do—
The rhythm was simple, the drumbeat brainwashing, and the melody reeked of cheap sleaze.
"Lift your legs higher! Mr. Logan, is that stretching? That's more like an elderly person strolling in the park!" Starlight shouted, holding a yoga stick, sounding lethargic.
On the floor, three men with a combined age of over three hundred were being pinned down and forced to do leg stretches in extremely bizarre positions.
Natasha, wearing a black tight-fitting training suit, expressionlessly stepped on Logan's back, using professional techniques usually reserved for handling enemy Agents to force his leg toward his head.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Logan's face turned liver-colored, veins bulging on his forehead, and he couldn't utter any other syllable besides this word. "My back is going to break!"
"Shut up," Natasha said coldly. "John is watching from the monitoring room. Do you want him to come down personally and help you with a physical stretch?"
Logan shut up instantly.
On the other side, Steve Rogers had his shoulders pressed by Starlight, his legs split into a full split, and cold sweat seeped from his golden hair, dripping onto the floor.
He gritted his teeth, his handsome face full of pain.
This was harder to endure than being frozen in the Arctic Ocean for seventy years.
He would rather go another hundred rounds with Red Skull.
Only Soldier Boy Benjamin, this original old rogue, although also pressed into grimacing, had an inexplicable sense of competitiveness in his eyes.
He was even secretly observing the progress of the other two, attempting to defeat them in flexibility.
Lin An sat in the monitoring room with his legs crossed, drinking cola while admiring this World-famous painting on the screen.
Torturing this group of legendary heroes was much more interesting than simply killing them.
"Alright, warm-up is over." Lin An's lazy voice spread throughout the training room via the broadcast. "Change clothes, get ready for the next segment."
Ten minutes later.
The three men changed into the "performance outfits" personally designated by Lin An.
Steve wore a tailored navy blue three-piece suit, paired with gold-rimmed glasses, his hair combed meticulously. He stood in front of the mirror, looking at his outfit that was serious to the point of being rigid, and breathed a slight sigh of relief.
At least it maintained some decency.
Logan had his shirt stripped off, wearing only a tank top and ripped jeans, his wild chest hair and abdominal muscles fully visible.
Soldier Boy wore a special military uniform, with three buttons of his tight shirt required to be undone, revealing his bronze chest, looking incredibly seductive.
"Music!" Lin An's voice sounded again.
It was that brainwashing do-do-do again.
Starlight braced herself and stood in front of the three, tapping the tablet in her hand. On the screen, a greasy young idol was frantically gyrating his hips at the camera.
"Watch closely, the first move, hip thrusts." Starlight demonstrated with a deadpan expression. "It needs to be... powerful, and at the same time, your eyes need to be hazy."
Logan felt his stomach churning.
Steve's cheeks turned bright red instantly.
"Keep up with the beat!" Lin An's voice carried a hint of impatience.
A charred hole suddenly appeared in the corner of the wall, burned by Heat Vision.
The three men stiffened.
Steve moved first. He closed his eyes, as if heading to the execution ground, and stiffly, humiliatingly, thrust his hips.
The movement was like a robot with rusted joints, full of mechanical and tragic feeling.
Logan cursed as he followed along, wiggling his thick, barrel-like waist, his eyes fierce enough to kill.
"Wrong! Steve! You are an ascetic old cadre; you need to act out the frustration of being forced to work! Not like you're sacrificing yourself!"
"Logan! You are the wild one! When you thrust your hips, you need to have aggression! Not constipation!"
Lin An was frantically micro-managing from the monitoring room with a megaphone.
The most outrageous one was Soldier Boy.
This old guy was unexpectedly talented. Not only was his hip-thrusting range the largest, but he even instinctively winked at himself in the mirror, his mouth curling into a smile he thought was cool.
He was involution-ing! This old guy, in order to grab the center position, had actually started working hard in secret!
"Next move, leg sweep, then follow with a wink." Starlight's voice already carried a sobbing tone.
Steve felt his worldview collapsing. A wink? What was that? Blinking? Why would you blink at others?
Logan turned his face directly to the corner, with an "I'd rather die than do it" attitude.
Ssss—
Another charred hole appeared by his feet.
Logan resignedly turned around, facing the mirror, and extremely arduously squeezed his right eye. That expression was less like flirting and more like a facial nerve spasm.
Soldier Boy had completely entered the zone. He did a cool leg sweep, then suddenly winked at the camera, while sticking out his tongue to lick his lips.
Greasy.
But full of damn confidence.
Natasha leaned against the wall, her lips twitching uncontrollably. She felt that her many years of career as an Agent had been for nothing; what she saw today was more explosive than all the classified documents of HYDRAcombined.
Just then, the door to the training room was pushed open.
Carol Danvers walked in, holding a document. She was here today in the capacity of "Vought InternationalTemporary Ideological and Political Consultant" to inspect the integration of the new members.
As soon as she entered, she was stunned by the scene before her.
Intense music, three tough guys, either shirtless or in uniform, were frantically twisting their bodies in front of the mirror.
And the focus of her gaze fell right on the most engrossed one, Soldier Boy.
To show off his explosive power, Soldier Boy was performing a move of violently tearing his shirt.
With a "rip" sound, his military uniform top, which already had few buttons fastened, was torn into strips of cloth by himself!
Immediately after, he raised his hands above his head, making a big heart shape in front of his chest, and at the same time, blew a kiss towards the direction of the mirror.
Sweat slid down his well-defined abdominal muscles, and his eyes were filled with a desire for the center position and a determination to win it.
In the training room, the music stopped abruptly.
Everyone stopped.
Carol stood at the door, the document in her hand falling to the floor with a "plop."
She looked at Soldier Boy's muscular physique and that greasy yet strangely powerful heart gesture, her Adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably.
She... swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
In the monitoring room.
Lin An used the camera to faithfully record this historic moment, including all of Carol's reactions after entering the door.
He looked at Carol's slightly open mouth and bobbing Adam's apple on the screen, a big question mark slowly emerging in his mind.
No way, Auntie?
You can actually have a reaction to this?
You wouldn't... want to be my stepmother, would you?
Lin An shivered at his own outrageous thought.
"Ahem." Carol quickly regained her composure, picked up the document from the floor, and used a cold, business-like tone to cover up her previous lapse. "I was just... here to submit a report on promoting gender equality within the company."
After saying that, she turned and left, her footsteps even somewhat hurried.
Lin An watched her back, rubbing his chin.
He didn't think much more about it.
He looked down at the video on his phone and pressed the send button with satisfaction.
[Vought Dragon Squad Loving Family]
[Group Owner] I Don't Eat Beef: [Video]
[Group Owner] I Don't Eat Beef: @All Members, enjoy the training routine of the company's newest boy band, "Old Boys."
The moment the video was sent, the group chat exploded.
Vought's First Loyal Deep: Hahahahahahahaha! Captain! Captain, you have this day too! I'm going to record this and watch it every day!
Maeve:...I need to wash my eyes.
New York Playboy: WTF?! Steve?! He can actually hip thrust?! Lin An, you animal, what did you do to him!
Single King Thor: Oh! This gentleman in the suit dances so well! Full of power! Is this the court dance of Midgard?
Professor X Good Guy:...
Professor X Good Guy: Eric, come and look.
Great Mutant Leader:?
A few seconds later.
Great Mutant Leader: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
Great Mutant Leader: Charles! My old friend! Compared to them, our segment is simply a cinematic classic! It's art!
In the safe house, Eric watched Steve's flushed face on the phone screen, laughing until tears came out.
He felt the humiliation and fear of being dominated by Homelander were completely released and sublimated at this moment.
It turns out there are people in the World worse off than me!
And it's Captain America!
Erik Lehnsherr felt like he could do it again.
Chapter 108: TikTok Debut Opening
Three days later.
Vought Tower top floor office.
"Send it out."
Lin An propped his feet on the pure gold desk.
He tossed a bright red apple in his hand without even raising his eyelids.
Madelyn tapped her fingertips lightly on the keyboard and pressed Enter.
The official Vought TikTok account, with a full billion followers, updated a post immediately.
Following that, the Dragon Team, the Mutant team, and even the personal account of Captain Marvel Carol, who had just signed her contract, were all forced to repost it simultaneously.
The title was simple and brutal.
[Tonight at eight, Vought's top-tier boy band "Old Boys" makes their hardcore debut! Come relive the wildness across the century! Don't miss the livestream!]
The attached image was a three-person promotional photo with high visual impact.
In the center, Soldier Boy Benjamin.
A custom retro military uniform, with shirt buttons undone down to his stomach.
His bronze chest muscles were smeared with highlighter and baby oil.
He even had a wickedly evil smile on the corner of his mouth that he deemed devastatingly charming.
On the left was Steve Rogers.
A bespoke navy blue three-piece suit, with his hair combed meticulously with half a pound of hair gel.
A pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
His eyes revealed an extreme coldness, as if he were lifeless yet forced to work against his will.
On the right was Logan.
He wore only a torn black tank top on his upper body, his wild chest hair carefully groomed.
He had an unlit cigar in his mouth.
Those eyes were so fierce they looked like they would jump out of the screen to hack someone the next second.
For the first ten minutes after the picture was posted, there wasn't a single comment on the entire internet.
Every netizen who swiped onto this post had their brain crash collectively.
Subsequently, the server almost started smoking.
"Holy sh*t, holy sh*t, holy sh*t! Am I f*cking blind?! Is that Captain America?!"
"Isn't that bearded guy with the claws Wolverine? Why did he trim his chest hair into the shape of a heart?! My eyes!"
"That old soldier in the green suit in the middle is so seductive! This greasy texture, this overflowing hormonally-charged old guy vibe, is this really something I can watch without paying?"
"These three combined must be four hundred years old, right? What kind of 'Old Geezer' combo is this!"
"The one in front calling it an 'Old Geezer' combo, you don't know sh*t! This is the 'Battle-Damaged Hardcore' style! *Sighs*, Steve wearing glasses is too ascetic, I really want to rip his suit open!"
Old Boys' official account had been registered for less than a day, and the follower count skyrocketed.
It broke through the three million mark directly!
And it was still frantically climbing at a rate of 100,000 per minute.
On the TikTok trending list, the hashtag #TheOldBoysBoyBand# took off like a Rocket.
In just three hours, it broke into the top ten of the trending list and kept charging ahead.
It sat firmly in the fourth position on the trending list.
One step further, and it would be #EC Sunset Red Ruin Romance#, which had topped the list for a week.
Meanwhile, on the second basement level of Vought Tower.
"Continue!"
Magneto Eric stared fixedly at the trending list on his phone screen, his eyes red.
He hadn't dared to take off his sunglasses and mask when going out for the past few days, and had even considered going to South Korea for plastic surgery.
It was all thanks to that damn #EC Sunset Red# trending term.
Just going out to buy a hot dog, he could hear little girls passing by discussing who was on top between him and Charles.
Now, the opportunity to divert the firepower had arrived!
"Raven!" Eric turned his head abruptly, his eyes red like a gambler who had lost his mind.
"Charge more! Buy promoted traffic! Buy trending spots! Buy bots!"
"Divert all the traffic to those three idiots for me!"
Mystique Raven leaned against the door frame, holding a latte in her hand.
She rolled her eyes without even changing her posture.
"Didn't you hear me? We must let the netizens' attention shift to those three morons!"
"As long as they get popular, everyone will forget the pathetic incident of Charles and me hugging and crying in the ruins!"
Magneto gritted his teeth, and the coffee cup in his hand developed several cracks.
"Throw another fifty thousand dollars at it! Now!"
"Eric." Raven blew on the hot steam of her coffee.
"Your balance is already insufficient."
"Don't forget you still haven't paid back the money for the three high-angle cameras you smashed while filming 'X-Men' last month."
Raven added the final blow mercilessly.
Eric looked at his own shriveled wallet.
Then he looked at "Old Boys" on the trending list, which was one spot away from exposing his dark history.
That was Captain America shaking his ass online!
Such a once-in-a-lifetime show would definitely completely wash away his shame.
"Lend me some." Magneto's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse.
"No way." Raven turned and walked away, "Figure it out yourself, old man."
"Damn it!"
Eric grabbed the landline on the table, his chest heaving violently.
His trembling fingers dialed a number.
"Beep... Beep..."
The call connected.
"Eric?" Professor X's gentle voice, laced with fatigue, came through.
"I'm in a meeting, Scott is reporting on the progress of New York's post-disaster reconstruction. Do you have something urgent?"
Magneto bit his back molars, his old face turning red.
He had never been this humiliated in his entire life.
But to avoid being treated as the object of fujoshi fantasies, he went all out.
"Charles... lend me some money."
"..."
Charles on the other end was silent for two seconds.
"What are you doing?"
"Buying traffic for Old Boys." Eric stared at the screen, "I want to send them to the top of the trending list."
Charles on the other end of the phone was completely speechless.
What kind of crazy person was this.
...
Three o'clock in the afternoon.
Vought Tower top floor dance studio.
The brainwashing electronic dance music stopped abruptly.
"Clap. Clap. Clap."
Lin An sat on the swivel chair, clapping slowly and deliberately.
On the floor, Steve, Logan, and Benjamin were holding the final, highly tense pose.
Steve pushed up his reflective gold-rimmed glasses in humiliation.
Logan pulled at his collar irritably.
Benjamin had his arms wide open, his face covered in sweat, panting like an old ox that had just finished plowing the fields.
That last sequence of hip thrusts followed by a sweeping leg kick had been danced with an indescribable violent aesthetic.
Interwoven with it was an extreme sense of greasiness.
"Perfect. Simply art."
Lin An stood up, grabbed a bottle of ice water from the side, and unscrewed it.
"This movement, this timing, even Odin would have to fly over from Asgard to shower you with Rocket gifts after seeing this."
Steve sat on the floor, his suit already soaked through with sweat.
He covered his face with both hands, not wanting to say a word.
If he had his Vibranium shield in hand, he would definitely knock himself unconscious right now.
Logan lit a cigar, took a fierce puff, and exhaled a ring of thick smoke.
"I've lived for one hundred and thirty years, participated in two World Wars, had bullets pierce my chest, and had half my life blown away."
Logan's hand holding the cigar was shaking.
"I swear, these three days are the darkest days of my life."
"Cut it out, don't act like a wronged little wife."
Lin An walked over and kicked Logan's shoe with his toe.
"I'm not exploiting you, I'm empowering you, reshaping your commercial barriers."
"Life is like rape; since you can't resist, you might as well enjoy it."
Lin An pointed to the blonde man on the ground.
"Look at your Captain, didn't he integrate quite well?"
Steve buried his head deeper.
F*ck your integration.
"Alright, stop with the funeral expression." Lin An knocked on the whiteboard behind him.
"Eight o'clock tonight, the third-floor studio will broadcast on time. Perform well."
Lin An turned to look at Benjamin, who was still fixing his hairstyle in the mirror.
"Especially you, old thing."
"Vought doesn't keep idlers. Your salary depends entirely on the share of livestream tips."
Lin An leaned in close to him.
"If the fans don't send gifts, tomorrow you'll only be able to grab expired hot dogs from homeless people under the bridge."
Benjamin snorted coldly.
He flipped his shiny, slick hair with extreme arrogance.
"Shut up, you test-tube freak. When I was entertaining the troops on the front lines back in the day, the screams from the audience could blow the roof off."
"Dealing with this group of sheltered netizens? I just need to twist a little, and they'll have to take all the money in their pockets and throw it at my face."
"Then I shall wait and see." Lin An smiled.
In the corner, Starlight, who was responsible for guidance, and Natasha, who was the part-time supervisor, exchanged a look.
"I feel like my eyes are no longer clean."
Starlight looked expressionlessly at the first-generation Superhero who was frantically practicing his Wink in the mirror.
"I want to quit and go back to my hometown to farm."
"Endure it." Natasha sighed.
"After staying in this company for a long time, you will find that the boss's bottom line is... infinite."
Eight o'clock in the evening.
Vought Tower high-ceiling hall.
It had been temporarily transformed into a huge stage with a strong cyberpunk style.
Dazzling laser lights were scanning wildly.
The bass was shaking the floor.
Backstage.
"Check the audio and camera positions one last time." Madelyn gave quick instructions into the walkie-talkie.
"Switch the network line to maximum bandwidth, we're going live immediately."
Lin An sat in the VIP viewing area on the side, crossing his legs.
He held a glass of red wine, full of anticipation.
Beside him, Tony Stark was holding the latest Stark phone.
The camera was aimed firmly at the stage, and Tony was smiling like a weasel about to steal a chicken.
"Lin An, this is definitely the most beautiful thing you've ever done!"
Tony rubbed his hands excitedly.
"The old popsicle has a day like this too!"
"I'm going to record this and play it on a loop on the building's exterior screen for a whole year!"
Lin An sipped his red wine: "Tony, watching for free won't do; you have to cover half of tonight's tip KPI."
"No problem!"
"Stark Industries lacks nothing, except money!"
Tony grandly deposited one million dollars into the platform, ready to frantically shower them with big Rocketgifts.
Chapter 109: Old Boys' Leg-Sweeping Dance
The moment the livestream started, the server almost smoked.
The numbers in the top right corner of the screen jumped like crazy; in less than ten seconds, the number of viewers surpassed two million.
Lin An walked to the center of the stage with a microphone in hand, his strides long and confident. Behind him stood three centenarians with ashen faces, standing as if they were about to face a heroic death.
"Family! Welcome to Old Boys boy band livestream!"
"Tonight, this is a global premiere, an exclusive broadcast! Use your golden hands to like and share!"
The comments instantly flooded the entire screen, making it impossible to see any faces.
"Holy crap, holy crap, it's really Homelander!"
"Ahhhhh, Captain America is so handsome, I want to have his babies!"
"Who is that old guy in the green clothes? His muscles are so full, slurp slurp..."
Lin An turned around, raised a hand, and the spotlight flashed onto the three people behind him.
"Come on, let me grandly introduce our Vought's newest top-tier boy band—Old Boys!"
Lin An held the mic, starting to shout enthusiastically like a shady used car salesman.
"First, standing to the left of our center position is an old friend everyone knows. Having survived seventy years of being frozen while remaining standing, possessing the perfect peach-butt—the American Sweetheart, Captain!"
Steve Rogers, wearing that ascetic-style suit, pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose bridge. The veins on the back of his hands were about to pop out.
He gritted his teeth and said nothing.
He felt that the torture from HYDRA back in the day was like a five-star hotel spa compared to this.
"Next, this person standing to the right of the center position."
Lin An shoved the microphone in front of Logan, "He's lived for 130 years, his temper is harder than his claws, the wild and uninhibited representative of the Beast school—The Little Wolverine!"
Logan had an unlit cigar in his mouth, and the patch of chest hair shaved into a heart shape on his chest shone brilliantly under the spotlight.
He glared viciously at the camera and let out a low growl.
"Finally, our absolute center for tonight." Lin An walked over to Benjamin and patted his bronze-colored chest muscles, which were slathered in baby oil.
"The true originator of the tough guy, exuding mature charm all over—Soldier Boy!"
Benjamin flipped his hair in an extremely seductive way and winked at the camera.
That look was so oily it could fry two plates of food.
"Whoever you like, folks, shower them with gifts! Every bit of your support is the motivation for their hard performance tonight!"
As soon as Lin An finished speaking, the gift effects in the livestream room exploded.
Sports cars, yachts, Rockets—the colorful effects filled the screen completely.
Lin An was watching the revenue skyrocketing in the background and the popularity points surging in the system, and he was overjoyed.
But out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught a comment.
System prompt: User [The One Who Maintains UniversePeace] sent Carnival x 100!
System prompt: User [The One Who Maintains UniversePeace] sent Spaceship x 50!
The gifts were practically continuous, leaving Lin An a bit stunned.
What's going on? He looked at the name. Which unlucky person came up with such a chuunibyou-filled username?
The key is, these old guys haven't even wiggled their butts yet, and they're already tipping like crazy? And they are all designated for Benjamin.
Lin An rubbed his chin. Are the tastes of rich women these days so retro? They like these old geezers?
"Alright, enough small talk." Lin An snapped his fingers, "Music, start!"
In the speakers, that brainwashing "doo-doo-doo" electronic dance track instantly resounded through the entire hall.
The deafening drum beats hit everyone's heart.
Steve took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Logan cursed.
Benjamin's eyes lit up, as if he had returned to the peak moment of his youth, receiving the cheers of thousands of girls on stage.
First move: Chest touch.
Steve was like a malfunctioning robot, his hands stiffly placed on his suit jacket, sliding down an inch as if it weren't his own body.
Logan grabbed his wild chest hair, his expression fierce as if he were tearing out an enemy's internal organs.
Only Benjamin. This old guy narrowed his eyes, his hands gliding silkily over his baby-oiled chest muscles, even moving with the drum beats, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
The whole internet was boiling.
Next: Hip shaking, pelvic thrusting.
Steve humiliatedly thrust his pelvis, his gold-rimmed glasses almost falling off. That sense of suppressed frustration from being forced to perform was simply perfect.
Logan frantically shook his barrel waist.
Benjamin performed an exaggerated pelvic thrust, the range of motion shockingly large. Combined with that tough-guy face, it had an extremely eerie explosive power.
Then, leg sweep.
Three old men, totaling nearly 400 years of age, swept their legs in unison on stage.
Finally, freeze.
Steve pushed his glasses, his face cold. Logan tugged at his collar, his eyes fierce. Benjamin raised his hands over his head, made a huge heart shape, and winked extremely hard at the camera.
Snap. Freeze.
Silence for two seconds.
Then. Tony Stark, sitting off-stage, laughed so hard he rolled right off his chair.
"Hahahaha!" Tony pounded the floor, tears streaming, "I can't do it, I'm going to laugh until I'm oxygen-deprived! Jarvis! Give me oxygen!!"
Vought Tower monitoring room. The Deep sprayed soda all over the screen, laughing and rolling on the floor while clutching his stomach.
Queen Maeve covered her face, her shoulders shaking wildly.
Magneto Erik watched the screen, laughing so hard his dentures were about to fly out.
"Charles! Did you see that! Hahahaha!"
The internet comments were completely crazy now.
"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, is this something I can watch without paying?!"
"Help, my eyes! But why don't I want to leave?!"
"Uncle Benjamin is so good at this! That heart directly pierced my heart!"
"Is this the power of capital? It can make the old popsicle dance a suggestive dance!"
On stage, Lin An held the microphone, looking at the popularity points that had already exceeded 30 million in the background, smiling like a qualified capitalist.
"Thanks for the support, folks!" Lin An walked to the camera, "Come on, everyone, follow our number one fan!"
Lin An paused and threw out the main event.
"According to the rules of our livestream room, tonight's number one fan can make a request. Whoever you want to see perform whatever, just name it!"
As soon as these words came out, Tony Stark's eyes lit up instantly.
There's such a good thing?! Choose a program?
Tony immediately crawled up from the floor and opened the recharge interface.
"Old popsicle, if I don't make you wear a Hawaiian grass skirt and dance the hula in public today, my name isn't Tony Stark!"
Tony tapped his finger frantically. 500,000 USD. Smashed it right in.
The screen was full of super Rocket effects taking off.
Tony looked at the screen triumphantly, preparing to type in his request.
Result. System pop-up: Sorry, you are currently ranked second and cannot exercise the number one fan privilege.
Tony was stunned. What the hell? 500,000 USD smashed in, and I'm not number one?!
He immediately opened the contribution list. Ranked first, surprisingly, was that extremely cheesy name [The One Who Maintains Universe Peace].
And it was ahead of him by a full 1,000,000 USD in tips!
"Who the f*** is this?!" Tony was furious. Are there people richer and more idle than Stark Industries these days?
At this moment. On the ruins of a Kree warship countless light-years away from Earth.
Carol Danvers sat on a piece of wreckage sparking with fire, still wearing that Captain Marvel suit.
Her eyes were fixed on Benjamin, who was panting heavily and whose chest muscles were shining on the screen.
Her Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably again.
She typed rapidly on the screen.
In the Vought livestream room. A comment with cool golden special effects slowly floated across the center of the screen.
[The One Who Maintains Universe Peace]: I want to see Soldier Boy rip his shirt!
As soon as this comment appeared, the entire livestream room fell eerily silent for a moment.
Immediately after, even crazier comments swept in like a tsunami.
"Number one fan is mighty!"
"Rip it! Rip it for me!"
"If you don't rip it, you're not a man!"
On stage. Lin An looked at that glittering golden comment, his mouth twitching twice.
Case solved. This must be that old woman, Carol.
A woman over fifty, seeing this kind of tough-guy style suggestive performance, really has zero resistance.
"Ahem." Lin An picked up the microphone and turned to look at Benjamin, who was still striking poses for the camera.
"Benjamin." Lin An pointed at the comment on the big screen with a faint smile, "The number one fan has spoken. Your patron specifically requested to see you rip your shirt."
Benjamin was stunned. Then. On that weathered face of the old rogue, a flicker of extremely confident, evil laughter appeared.
"No problem."
Benjamin strode to the very front of the stage.
Steve looked at him in shock from behind, as if looking at an alien.
"Benjamin, are you crazy?"
Logan rolled his eyes. "This old thing is hopeless."
Benjamin ignored them completely.
He took a deep breath, his chest muscles bulging high.
He grabbed the collar of the already open retro military-style shirt with both hands.
His eyes stared directly at the camera, carrying 30% mockery, 30% coldness, and 40% nonchalance.
With a loud ripping sound.
The high-quality custom shirt was torn in half by him from the middle!
Shreds of cloth hung on his shoulders, revealing the highlighted eight-pack abs and thick arm muscles underneath.
"Ah——!!!"
It was as if you could hear the screams of countless female fans in the livestream room.
The gift effects paralyzed the server once again.
On the interstellar ruins. Carol looked at the wild scene on the screen, feeling her cheeks burning a little.
She coughed, quickly exited the livestream room, and stuffed her phone into her pocket.
Then she turned her head, looking coldly at the shivering alien soldiers around her.
"What are you looking at?" Carol smashed the alloy armor next to her with one punch, "Haven't you seen someone maintaining peace in the Universe?"
Earth. Lin An was on stage looking at the wildly jumping system panel.
Ding! Shocked the whole internet, gained 10 million popularity points!
He walked to Benjamin with a smile and patted his shoulder.
"Well done, old man."
Lin An picked up the microphone.
"Folks, tonight's livestream ends here! If you want to see more of Old Boys' wild daily life, remember to follow the official Vought account!"
"We'll see you next time!"
The screen went black.
Leaving billions of netizens across the internet, on this sleepless night, frantically reminiscing about that Earth-shattering rip of the shirt.
Chapter 110 Gangnam Style
"Steve, Logan, wipe those long faces off as if your wives just died."
In the top floor training room of Vought Tower, Benjaminleaned against the barre, holding a cup of Vought-exclusive protein shake, pointing at his two teammates with a beaming face.
Steve's temple was twitching wildly, and Logan directly unsheathed half of his Adamantium claws.
If this were seventy years ago, these two would have already pinned Benjamin to the ground and beaten the crap out of him.
But Benjamin wasn't afraid at all.
This old rogue took out his phone, opened the TikTok background interface with extreme proficiency, and shoved it right under their noses.
"See clearly? Three days, three million followers! And this!"
Benjamin used a finger in a half-cut tactical glove to heavily poke at the long string of numbers with dollar signs on the screen, "This is the share from last night's premiere! Six hundred thousand USD! I've already withdrawn it to buy a limited edition Land Rover."
He looked at his two teammates with heartbroken expressions, as if looking at two unteachable primitive men.
"I've fought so many years of wars, ate ice shards in Siberia, and was treated as a lab rat in the laboratory for blood draws, for what?"
Benjamin slapped his thigh, frustrated by their lack of ambition, "Now, you just need to wink at the camera and wiggle your butt, and you can earn enough in one night to buy a mercenary group. What era is this? Why are you still fighting and killing?"
"You call that selling your looks, you old pervert." Logan bit his cigar, his face as black as a pot bottom.
"Vulgar!" Benjamin smoothed his slicked-back hair, which was coated with half a pound of hair gel.
"That is the fans' love. Listen, the company has booked the schedule for Madison Square Garden in New York. A concert for ten thousand people! If you don't want to be roasted into a suckling pig by that lunatic Homelander, hurry up and practice that damn horse dance for me!"
Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He felt that the badge on his chest, representing freedom and justice, was being repeatedly rubbed by money and shame.
But he had no choice. In just one night, hundreds of thousands of cold, hard dollars were already lying quietly in his phone.
That was a huge sum of money he had never even dared to imagine.
One week later.
New York, Madison Square Garden.
The super venue, capable of accommodating twenty thousand people, was packed to capacity.
The deafening sound waves were almost enough to flip the dome.
But the scene was extremely bizarre.
Looking around, sitting in the audience were not young, fanatical, star-struck girls, but a uniform group of mature women, middle-aged ladies, and wealthy women aged forty and up.
They had elaborate permed waves, pearl necklaces or large gold chains that could blind someone hanging around their necks, and they waved colorful glow sticks in their hands, emitting deafening screams.
"Benjamin! I want to have your babies!" An elderly rich woman, at least seventy years old and leaning on a diamond-encrusted cane, shouted hoarsely in the front row, casually throwing a black card onto the stage.
Lin An sat in the backstage control room, legs crossed on the console, holding a cup of iced cola.
He looked at the scene of demons dancing outside and slapped his thighs in amusement.
This was the show effect he wanted.
This group of wealthy, lonely, and empty elderly women were the true 'leeks'.
"Boss, all units are ready." Madelyn reported from the side, "The global synchronized live broadcast channel has been opened."
"Start. Let these old folks feel the poison of modern pop culture."
Lin An snapped his fingers.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Dozens of cold fireworks, ten meters high, instantly erupted around the stage.
The entire venue plunged into darkness, and immediately after, extremely piercing laser spotlights focused on the center of the stage with a swish.
The lift platform rose slowly.
The addictive, cheap, and extremely brainwashing electronic drumbeat exploded.
It was that globally popular song, "Gangnam Style".
"Oppa Gangnam Style!"
Following a soulful shout, three muscle men with a combined age of over four hundred years, wearing custom tight dance costumes, crossed their hands in perfect unison under the gaze of ten thousand people, spread their legs, and began to dance the horse dance crazily.
The entire audience of middle-aged women instantly fell into a frenzy.
Steve wore his signature gold-rimmed glasses, and his navy blue suit was stretched tight by his wild movements.
He closed his eyes and bit his back teeth, every jump and flick of his hands carrying a tragic sorrow of a warrior facing death.
Logan was shirtless, a large gold chain dangling in his thick chest hair.
He twisted along with the beat irritably, his eyes looking as fierce as if he wanted to slaughter the entire audience.
And Benjamin was simply a natural king of the stage.
He wore that vintage military uniform with the neckline open to his navel, and he was in his element amidst the dynamic, brainwashing hit song.
After the horse dance finished, the musical style suddenly changed, cutting into a heavy bass rhythm with a suggestive nature.
Benjamin slid to the very front of the stage, holding the microphone stand with one hand, and delivered a powerful, continuous hip thrust towards the group of crazy rich women.
With every hip thrust, his eight-pack abs, coated in highlighter and baby oil, shone brightly under the lights.
He even blew a kiss in a very flirtatious manner to the elderly rich woman with the cane in the front row.
"Ah——!!"
The elderly rich woman fainted directly, and the medical staff on the side rushed up to pinch her philtrum.
The entire venue was completely out of control.
Pink, black, and lace underwear flew across the sky like snowflakes from the stands, raining down on the stage.
Steve was almost slapped in the face by a large-sized bra several times.
The barrage of the global live broadcast was already lagging to the point of showing ghost images, and the internet had split into two distinct factions.
The young people were wailing.
"Kill me! Someone kill me! That's Captain America! What is he doing?!"
"My childhood is shattered! Why is Wolverine hip-thrusting! Why is that veteran smiling so greasily!"
"Vought International fuck you! Give me back my Superhero!"
On the other side, wealthy ladies and aunties all over the world launched a fierce battle of tipping in the live broadcast room.
System prompt: [Texas Oil Widow] sent Super Yacht x100!
System prompt: [Manhattan Landlady Auntie] sent Spaceship x500!
The atmosphere on stage was pushed to the highest climax.
The ladies in the audience roared in unison, their voices perfectly synchronized: "Tear off your clothes! Tear off your clothes! Tear off your clothes!"
Benjamin was waiting for this moment.
He pushed Steve away, walked to the edge of the stage, and grabbed his shirt collar with both hands.
Amidst a deafening scream, the muscles in his arms bulged.
"Rip!"
The custom military shirt was torn into two halves by him, revealing a copper-colored upper body that was as perfect as a sculpture.
Benjamin wildly threw the piece of cloth, still carrying sweat and body heat, forcefully towards the phalanx of rich women below.
The middle-aged ladies pounced on it like zombies out of a cage.
In order to grab that half-piece of torn clothing, several wealthy ladies with a net worth of over 100 million started pulling each other's hair on the spot.
Just at this moment.
An extremely strange and powerful suction force suddenly erupted in the corner of the venue.
The half-piece of shirt remnant that was still floating in mid-air, as if pulled by some invisible force field, swished and changed direction, flying accurately into a dark VIP box on the second floor.
In the shadows of the corner of the box, a hand wearing a red tactical glove caught the rag steadily.
Captain Marvel Carol Danvers was wearing casual clothes, a baseball cap, and a large black mask covering her face.
She looked left and right with a guilty conscience, confirming that no one noticed her, and then obsessively brought the half-piece of clothing stained with Benjamin's sweat to her nose.
"Sss——"
Carol took a deep breath, her eyes hazy, like a wild cat that had sniffed catnip.
The cosmic-level energy of her Binary form was actually being used by her to snatch a sweaty shirt from an old man.
Backstage control room.
Lin An didn't notice Carol's perverted behavior at all.
He was staring at the crazily jumping system panel in front of him, happy as a bandit who had just robbed a bank.
Ding! Shocked one billion people globally, gained 20 million popularity points!
Ding! Extreme absurd impact, popularity points doubled critical hit!
"Hahaha hahahaha!" Lin An looked at the popularity points that had instantly broken through the 60 million mark, laughing until tears came out.
These old folks were truly walking money-printing machines. At this speed, it wouldn't take a few days before he could upgrade to something big.
Meanwhile.
Somewhere in outer space, in the cold deep space hundreds of light-years from the edge of the Sun.
Space distorted violently.
A huge dark, giant flagship, surrounded by a dense crowd of frigates, boomed out of a quantum wormhole.
"Coordinates locked, Planet C-53."
The cold mechanical voice echoed in the ship's cabin.
"Countdown to jump, one minute."
Chapter 112: KPI Assessment, New York Brawl!
The concert atmosphere reached its peak during the clothes-tearing segment.
Just as Benjamin prepared to blow another farewell kiss to push this absurd frenzy to the extreme.
Boom—!!!
A deep blue beam of space light, like a God's spear, violently tore through the night sky over New York.
The intense light dissipated.
A figure wearing green armor and a golden horned helmet stood proudly in the strong wind, holding a scepter embedded with a blue gem.
Loki had returned.
He brought Thanos's army and endless fury back to the Planet that had once humiliated him.
"Midgard..." Loki spread his arms, a sickly and arrogant smile on his face, looking down at the bustling city beneath his feet, "Your King has returned!"
He had returned.
Bringing the Chitauri army bestowed upon him by Thanosto conquer this Planet he had long coveted.
"Tremble, mor..."
Loki spread his arms, like a king about to ascend the throne, looking down at the bustling city below, ready to welcome the fear and screams of mortals.
He was about to become the King of this Planet.
However, when his gaze swept over the loudest area in the city, the smile on his face... gradually froze.
What was that?
The dome of Madison Square Garden had cracked open a huge hole due to the earlier vibration.
Loki could clearly see the scene inside.
On a huge stage, blinding lights flashed wildly.
Three muscular men wearing only tight pants were dancing a bizarre, synchronized horse-riding dance to extremely brainwashing music.
Below the stage, tens of thousands of middle-aged women waved glow sticks, emitting screams like a tsunami.
What made his pupils shake even more were the details.
A man in a blue suit and gold-rimmed glasses was being chased and whipped on the buttocks by a burly man next to him, whose chest hair was shaved into a heart shape, using a pair of pink lace underwear.
And the man standing in the center, bare-chested, had already been stripped down to his underwear by several crazy aunties who rushed up from the crowd!
Loki was completely stunned.
Is this... is this f*cking Earth?
What kind of mental pollution had the carbon-based organisms on this Planet experienced during his absence?
He subconsciously checked the spatial coordinates.
That's right! Planet C-53, Solar System, Earth!
"Forget it, just a bunch of lunatics."
Loki rubbed his face, restoring his arrogant, high-and-mighty expression.
He raised his scepter, pushing his divine power to the limit.
"Tremble! Mortals!"
Loki's voice, amplified by his divine power, resounded throughout New York, "Your King has descended!"
He laughed wildly and opened a massive cosmic wormhole.
Woo—!!!
The Chitauri alien army, like a swarm of locusts, let out deafening roars and poured out of the wormhole in dense swarms.
A Leviathan mechanical beast, the size of a giant whale, charged out first. Its hideous metal head smashed through the roof of a building, and its massive body, carrying the force of destruction, slammed heavily onto the street outside the venue.
Boom!
The ground shook and mountains swayed.
Loki spread his arms, closed his eyes, and with an intoxicated look, prepared to welcome the wailing and fleeing of the entire city.
However.
The scene of civilians screaming and fleeing that he had expected did not happen at all.
Several New York aunties, who hadn't managed to get concert tickets and were filming videos outside the venue, saw the roaring mechanical beast in front of them. Instead of running, they excitedly moved closer.
"My God! These special effects are too realistic, right?" An auntie said, recording a short video while complaining excitedly, "Look at this metal texture, this destructive power! It must be Vought International filming the second part of 'Vought Universe', right?"
"Definitely! This investment must be at least ten billion!"
The smile on Loki's face froze completely.
Special effects? Filming a movie?
"Mortals! Kneel!" Loki roared in exasperation, "I am a God! What you are about to face is death!"
A young man wearing a baseball cap waved his hand impatiently at him.
"What's so great about a God?" The young man shouted back, "That God named Thor got a bad review from me yesterday because his food delivery was late! The alien Police are still at our community committee, mediating the square dance turf dispute for Aunt Susan next door!"
"Get lost, don't block us from filming short videos! This is exclusive material!"
The Chitauri vanguard soldiers were all confused.
Holding energy weapons, they looked at the Earthlings in front of them who were not running but instead holding phones and crazily taking pictures of them, and for a moment, they didn't know whether they should fire.
How were the carbon-based organisms on this Planet... not afraid of death?
Loki felt that his dignity and majesty had suffered unprecedented insults.
He was shaking with anger at the reaction of these Earthlings, his face twisted.
Completely broken, Loki pointed his scepter at the nearby Vought Tower and roared hysterically with all his might:
"Homelander! Get out here and die!"
The roar resounded through New York.
In the backstage broadcast room of Madison Square Garden.
Lin An sat with his legs crossed, holding a glass of red wine, watching the alien fleet filling the sky and the exasperated Loki on the surveillance screen with great interest.
In the VIP box, Carol, who was peeping at Benjamin's abs with binoculars, was the first to react. She flew out of the box instantly, her Binary form energy erupting to form a massive golden shield, enveloping the entire concert venue.
The aunties inside the venue saw the golden energy shield above their heads and screamed even more crazily.
"Oh my God! It's Captain Marvel! Is this a special easter egg for the concert?"
"Vought International spoils fans so much! I'm crying!"
Lin An looked at the crazy fans on the screen, then at the chaotic battlefield outside, and a satisfied smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
What great material.
The ratings for this quarter are secured.
He picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the all-call button.
The voice clearly reached the ears of all the Superheroes present, including the Dragon Team.
"Everyone, stop watching."
Lin An took a sip of red wine, his tone as calm as if he were announcing that it was afternoon tea time.
"The final KPI assessment for this quarter is here."
"One alien infantryman counts as ten points. One airship counts as one hundred points. That big bug outside also counts as one hundred points."
"After this assessment, the first place will receive a bonus of ten million U.S. dollars, plus a month of paid leave."
"Second and third place will get one million U.S. dollars and one week of leave."
"As for those who fail to meet the basic KPI..." Lin Anpaused, a demonic smile in his voice, "In the next play, you will partner with The Deep to play a pair of Aquamen who break through worldly prejudices and kiss in the deep sea."
Once these words were spoken.
Steve and Logan's movements instantly froze.
Act gay with The Deep?
Just thinking about that scene was ten thousand times more terrifying than being crushed into meat paste by the Chitauri army!
"Tony." Lin An's voice sounded again.
"What?" Tony was putting on his portable Iron Man Suit, looking speechless.
He knew it; this guy would definitely turn an alien invasion into a company annual meeting.
"Have Jarvis activate the point statistics system, live broadcast, synchronized globally."
Lin An stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the apocalyptic scene outside. A fanatical smile, like that of a capitalist seeing a new business opportunity, appeared on his face.
"Let the carnival begin, my employees."
Tony rolled his eyes but still gave the order to Jarvis.
"Jarvis, connect to the Vought broadcast satellite and activate the battlefield damage assessment and point statistics mode."
"Understood, sir."
The next second.
Hum—
The red and gold Iron Man Suit instantly covered Tony's entire body. He turned into a streak of light and was the first to rush out of the venue.
Steve and Logan looked at each other, both seeing extreme fear in the other's eyes.
Without a word, the two rushed out of the stage like madmen.
Screw dancing, nobody was going to make them film a kissing scene with The Deep!
"Fuck, damn Homelander! Raven! Charles! Hurry up and help me!" Eric roared in the VIP box, the powerful magnetic force already sweeping several cars outside the venue into mid-air.
A war of national defense concerning the survival of Earth.
Just like that, it turned into the most competitive KPI battle in history, fought for bonuses and to avoid sexual harassment.