Free Web NovelChapter 49: Chapter 49: A-Train’s Return
Chapter 49: A-Train’s Return
Content from Vought’s press conference swept across every screen globally within twenty-four hours.
"Superheroes are all pumped full of drugs." This sentence became the headline for major media outlets, font bolded, size maxed out, accompanied by a photo of Ashley, Homelander, and Soldier Boy sitting on the press conference stage.
CNN brought on three genetic ethics experts and a retired FDA official for a full two-hour special program. The Fox News anchor used "the biggest scam of the century" as their opening line, then spent forty minutes ripping into the deceased Edgar.
On social media, the term Compound V sat at the very top of Twitter’s trending topics for an entire day, its traffic completely eclipsing the presidential election and the World Cup draw. In every street corner and all over the internet, almost everyone was discussing the exact same thing.
"Goddamn Vought, lying to us for so long! Holy shit, those superheroes are actually just junkies pumping drugs? Oh my god, this is insane!"
"Vought is so fucking despicable. First they frame a veteran hero and sell Soldier Boy out to the Russians to be tortured for forty years, and then they mass-produce superheroes to trick us into buying merchandise. That limited-edition Homelander poster set in my room cost me two hundred bucks, and now you’re telling me he was just built on drugs in a lab?"
"But those superheroes are victims too. They didn’t know anything themselves. Especially Homelander—look at his expression at the press conference. He looked genuinely shocked, even... even a bit tragic, I think. Maybe he went through all kinds of laboratory experiments and injections, which is why he’s so powerful."
"Poor Homelander, poor superheroes."
"To be fair, those parents are even worse, selling out their own kids to Vought for a paycheck just to get them pumped with drugs..."
"But is the world going to be full of Supe-Terrorists now? Will Homelander protect us?"
"Of course he will, he’s our superhero!"
"With Soldier Boy and Homelander, father and son, they’ll definitely manage Vought well! I believe in them!"
"Oh, come on, for all we know they’re secretly manufacturing Compound V themselves behind the scenes, just shifting the blame onto a dead Edgar. Anyone can talk PR bullshit. Vought sheds its skin, but it’s still Vought."
Similar discussions were happening in every state, every city, and in front of every single screen.
Naturally, Vought’s stock price took an inevitable hit. While it wasn’t cut in half, a twenty to thirty percent drop was more than enough to terrify any publicly traded company. The shareholders couldn’t sit still, and investors blew up the phones of Vought’s finance department. A few minority shareholders even publicly called for an emergency shareholder meeting.
However, the ones who actually cared about the stock price weren’t Benjamin or Homelander. To them, they were themselves, and Vought was Vought. Besides, they didn’t belong to Vought; rather, Vought belonged to them.
Benjamin sat in his office with his feet propped up on the desk, holding a cup of iced cola. A tablet was spread out on the desktop, its screen displaying the real-time chart of Vought’s stock price, with the red line sliding downward. He cast a glance at it, took a sip of his cola, and went back to reviewing a document sent to him by The Legend regarding the liquidation of Crimson Countess’s assets and those of the other Supes who had ambushed him back then.
---<>---
Out in the corridor, Ashley jogged past in her high heels, clutching three stacks of documents in her arms, her hair half-unraveled and dark circles hanging bruisingly beneath her eyes. She cared that the stock price had taken a heavy dip, but what she cared about even more was whether Vought could survive. After all, she was Vought’s new CEO now.
"The PR department’s media statement is already on its seventh draft!" she barked as she burst into her office, yelling at two assistants who were also sporting heavy dark circles. "CNN’s follow-up coverage—they wanted the detailed breakdown of the Compound V victims list, did we hand it over? Fuck, I am literally working myself to death!"
An assistant silently pushed a cup of stone-cold coffee over to her hand. She picked it up, gulped down a massive mouthful, and kept hammering away at the keyboard. Lately, she hadn’t been getting more than four hours of sleep a day. It wasn’t because anyone was forcing her; she simply couldn’t stop herself. Because her life had never felt as important as it did right now. Every bit of this had been handed to her by Soldier Boy and Homelander; she had to be worthy of the position. Moreover, with Edgar and Madelyn dead and the former board of directors completely wiped out, the remaining mid-level executives within Vought who had escaped the purge were all watching her like hawks. She absolutely could not afford to make a single mistake.
---<>---
At the opposite end of the same floor, inside The Seven’s conference room, Stormfront stood at her assigned seat, taking in her surroundings. Her features were sharp and defined, carrying a natural air of military discipline.
"So this is The Seven’s current lineup?" Stormfront swept a glance across the figures around the long table—Maeve, Starlight, The Deep, and, of course, Homelander.
"A-Train hasn’t arrived yet," Starlight said, looking at Stormfront with a bit of curiosity; Stormfront carried a casual, unbothered presence that was slightly reminiscent of Soldier Boy.
Right then, the conference room door pushed open, and A-Train walked inside. He looked a bit leaner after being confined to a hospital bed for so long; the teeth Benjamin had knocked loose from his face had already been replaced, but a subtle scar still lingered at the corner of his mouth. He stood by the long table for a brief moment before pulling out a chair and sitting down, remaining completely silent.
Stormfront cast a glance at A-Train, a flash of pure disgust cutting through her eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that A-Train was a superhero, if he were just some ordinary person, Stormfront would have absolutely slaughtered him on sight.
Soon, Benjamin strode in through the doorway, his shield strapped to his left arm. Seeing Benjamin enter, everyone around the table sat up straighter, save for Stormfront—with Homelander locking into an impeccably rigid posture. Stormfront, on the other hand, playfully winked at Benjamin.
Benjamin walked over and settled into the head seat, his gaze settling onto the newly returned A-Train, lingering for a long moment. "You’re recovered?"
"Yes, sir," A-Train muttered in a low voice.
"How’s the heart?"
"The doctors said it requires long-term observation." A-Train stared down at his own hands. "I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t listen to you last time."
"You damn well didn’t," Benjamin said. "But then again, you’re the one who almost ended up dead. So I suppose that lesson is a hell of a lot more effective than anything out of my mouth, right?"
"Right."
"Good."
Benjamin leaned forward from his seat. "I am going to say this one last time. I don’t give a shit who you are on The Seven—nobody touches another Compound V shot. Whatever stashes you’ve got hidden away, turn them all in for immediate destruction. Especially you, A-Train. If I catch you getting your hands on any goddamn dose of Compound V from any channel again, I will seriously consider replacing you with Shockwave. This is your absolute last chance." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
"Yes, sir," A-Train nodded. Seated off to the side, The Deep couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker at A-Train’s misfortune.
"And it’s not just Compound V. The same goes for any form of narcotics or gambling—none of it is permitted for any Supe under this company." Benjamin began enforcing Vought’s new superhuman disciplinary guidelines.
Homelander was completely indifferent to this; after all, aside from his fixation on milk, he didn’t possess any major vices, and drinking milk didn’t exactly count as an addiction. He actually quite liked this new rule; Homelander despised drug abuse in general, and the only reason he had turned a blind eye to A-Train’s habit in the past was simply because A-Train kept executing his dirty work.
Having laid down the law, Benjamin gestured for Homelander to take the floor. Homelander was the captain of The Seven, after all, and Benjamin had no intention of hogging all the spotlight. Benjamin primarily managed Homelander and Ashley, leaving Homelander to direct The Seven while Ashley ran the corporate operations.
Homelander gave a slight nod and spoke up: "Alright, the official roster for The Seven as it stands is: Homelander, Maeve, Starlight, The Deep, A-Train, and Stormfront."
He rattled off the names one by one, pausing briefly when he reached Stormfront. "We currently have one vacancy. Black Noir is dead, and Translucent is dead too. However, Translucent’s death will remain confidential for the time being. Deep, Maeve—any leads on the Translucent investigation?"
Maeve shook her head; they had nothing for now.
"Then keep digging," Homelander said. "As for the public, we’ll state that Translucent is currently executing a classified operation, hence his temporary absence from the spotlight. Find the killer, and we’ll re-evaluate once we have hard intel."
---<>---
A/N: Want to know what happens next? You can read up to 20 Chapters ahead on my p@tr~on:
[email protected]/ForgottenDaoist (@ = a, link is in my profile).
