Dominic couldn't be bothered with the various fanatical online reviews of "Homelander". To him, these "internet worship" on Earth were just low-level pleasures of daily life, not even as interesting as the "creation" currently underway before him.
Inside the room, soft morning light shone through the curtains, illuminating Lisa's slightly messy hair. She half-closed her eyes and let out a lazy sigh. Lisa's face held a subtle expression of satisfaction, and her eyes were still a little red. She looked down at the notebook she had just placed on the nightstand and said softly, "I... I'll write today's experience into my latest draft, you'll definitely like it." Her voice carried a hint of playful suggestion, her eyes seeming to search for a trace of surprise on Dominic's face.
Dominic raised an eyebrow, and a cynical smile appeared. He slowly propped himself up, wrapped one arm around Lisa's shoulder, his eyes holding a touch of amused indifference. "Oh, Lisa, writing a draft? I'd bet that 'masterpiece' is just some self-indulgent nonsense." His tone carried that condescending mockery, as if Lisa's words were merely child's scribbles.
Lisa gently bit her lip, looking quite content. She softly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her eyes holding a hint of defiance. "Don't be so cold. Maybe you'll become a real hero in my writing—not just that 'Homelander' from last night, but... my hero." Her tone carried a gentle provocation, but the look in her eyes was completely infatuated.
Dominic smiled slightly, leaned in, and whispered in her ear, "Oh, Lisa, do you really think I'm the kind of person who would care about the image you portray in your writing?" He deliberately drew out his words, his voice full of disdain and mockery. "You know what? What draft you write is your business. As for whether it can impress me—I think you're still overestimating yourself a bit."
Lisa was a little surprised, a trace of shyness appearing on her face, yet mixed with unconcealed longing. She lowered her voice and whispered, "Then... what do you care about?"
Dominic slightly raised the corner of his mouth, his gaze flickering slightly, his eyes like someone looking at a rare ornament. "What do I care about? Lisa, you naturally know the answer," his finger gently slid down her arm, his eyes holding a hint of mischievous amusement, as if every movement carried control. "What I care about is the process—every single second of this game."
Lisa's face turned even redder, her lips slightly parted, as if she wanted to say something, but his words left her speechless. She gently bit her lower lip, with a shy anticipation, her eyes revealing her attachment to him. And Dominic still wore that lazy smile, seemingly completely ignoring the emotion in her eyes, just lightly patted her cheek, his voice carrying a hint of perfunctoriness. "Write your draft. As for whether I'll take a look, that depends on your performance."
Lisa blinked, her expression becoming a little complex. Just as she was about to retort, Dominic leaned in slightly again and said in that deliberately intimate tone, "Alright, Lisa, don't look like you're about to cry. Look, no matter how well you write, it's just a draft; but, you have to understand the 'art' of life." His tone was full of mockery and disdain, as if every word he struck into her heart was just a response to his casual provocation.
He didn't wait for Lisa's answer. Instead, he smiled along with the moment, gently pulled her into his arms, and spoke again with that half-genuine, half-fake smile, "Alright, since you want to understand art, I don't mind giving you a private lesson." He said in a low voice, a hint of playfulness in his eyes, as if in this "lesson", he was the sole protagonist, and she was merely a supporting character arranged for him.
In the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters surveillance room, Director Nick Fury was sitting in his somewhat old leather chair, his gaze fixed intently on the screen. On the screen, Dominic's interview was playing on an endless loop. The Dominic on the screen looked cold and confident, his chin slightly raised, as if the World before him was merely dust beneath his feet. Director Fury's single eye stared intently at the screen, seeming to discover new details in Dominic's conceited smile with each viewing.
Suddenly, a lighthearted voice broke the silence. Phil Coulson poked his head in from the doorway, wearing his usual friendly smile, and quipped, "Director, you've watched it at least ten times, haven't you? I almost thought you were starting to worship this 'Homelander'." He paused for a moment, then tentatively added, "Honestly, his speech has quite the 'hero' vibe, especially the 'Guardian' part... Oh, of course, definitely not as impressive as you, Director."
Nick merely narrowed his eyes upon hearing this. His perpetually serious face showed no ripple, still staring at the "self-important" smiling face on the screen. Suddenly, a sarcastic smile curved at the corner of his mouth, and he let out a faint cold snort. "Worship? I'm not some rookie moved by empty words, Phil." He paused, then slowly leaned back in his chair, his tone carrying a hint of meaningful cold laughter. "However, I do have to admit, this kid has quite the knack for narcissism. Maybe in the future, we can write 'Do Not Disturb' on his face; maybe even enemies wouldn't dare touch him."
Phil couldn't help but let out a light chuckle upon hearing this, but quickly returned to a serious tone. "Director, this kind of 'confidence' is actually quite rare, especially for a powerhouse of his level. But speaking of which, we received a report from a field Agent—some kind of anomalous object was discovered in New Mexico. As for the shape..." He glanced down at the tablet in his hand. "A hammer, fallen from the sky, the surrounding magnetic field is chaotic, and the scene looks quite 'extraordinary'."
Nick raised an eyebrow, his gaze still locked on the screen, but his voice carried a hint of sarcasm. "A hammer? I hope that's not just some construction worker's careless throw, is it?"
Phil's lips curved into a smile, and he said with a slightly helpless tone, "Director, I think this time it's probably not a construction site issue... The Agents over at the hammer have already tried to move it, even using trucks and cranes, but it hasn't budged. It seems the 'hammer' is much more stubborn than we imagined." He paused for a moment, then added teasingly, "However, I can go and double-check to see if someone's 'Homelander' dropped their hammer."
Nick showed a cold smile, his hands clasped on the table, his tone carrying a bit of sarcastic humor. "Tsk, a stubborn hammer, a narcissistic 'Homelander'. Sounds like a good show today, Phil. Have you been a bit too idle lately?"
Phil paused slightly, then gave a gentle nod with a helpless yet polite smile. "Understood, Director. Departing immediately." He turned to leave but couldn't help but glance back at the Director's grim face and said softly, "But honestly, you've watched Dominic quite a few times, it could even be interpreted as a kind of... er... curiosity? Hope he doesn't discover this secret."
Nick's expression instantly darkened a few shades. He just gave Phil a cold glance, his eyes filled with unconcealed "impatience".
Phil understood immediately, wisely stopped talking, cleared his throat, and raised his hand in a less-than-formal salute towards 'his dear Director', adding softly with a slightly awkward smile, "Alright, I'll go handle the 'hammer' matter now." He turned, wanting to leave quickly, but after seeing the Director's increasingly grim face, his heart tightened, and he didn't dare to pause for a moment, leaving the room in hurried steps.
As the door just closed, Nick shook his head, gave a cold glance at Dominic's figure still flashing on the screen, and sighed softly as if talking to himself, "Acting like a savior, hypocritical, disgusting. Enough is enough."
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(End of Chapter)