The Boys: I Became The Soldier Boy

Chapter 51: Chapter 51: The Old Man Who Admitted His Mistakes

Chapter 51: The Old Man Who Admitted His Mistakes

Dr. Vogelbaum’s estate was nestled in a secluded valley in Upstate New York, far away from the city, far away from Vought International, and far away from everything he had created with his own hands. The ivy on both sides of the wrought-iron gates was meticulously trimmed, and the gravel on the driveway was laid out with absolute precision. It was the dignified exterior of a retired old man.

When Benjamin and Homelander landed at the estate’s entrance, Vogelbaum was standing beneath the porch. He didn’t hide, and of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to call the police, let alone attempt to flee. Vogelbaum merely let out a soft sigh, as if he had been waiting for this day for a very long time.

He naturally knew everything that had occurred at Vought. Edgar was dead, Madelyn was dead, and the board had been massacred; he knew better than anyone that he would likely be next. It was only a matter of time before Homelander came knocking on his door.

"Just ask," Vogelbaum said slowly. "I’ll tell you the truth."

He glanced at Homelander’s expression. For the moment, Homelander’s emotions seemed relatively stable. He knew that if he pushed Homelander over the edge, the peaceful retirement he had so meticulously cultivated here would be completely ruined.

Vogelbaum led the two through a corridor lined with oak flooring and into his study. The study featured an entire wall of books, and several faded medals rested on the mantle above the fireplace. He pulled a manila envelope from a desk drawer and placed it on the table. Inside the envelope were Becca and Ryan’s addresses.

Homelander stared at the envelope for a long time before lifting his head to ask, "Why did you do it? The deception, the lies... for eight whole years..."

Vogelbaum fell silent for a long moment.

"To protect you," he said slowly, his voice aged and calm. "Isn’t that what we do at Vought? Protect our most valuable asset..."

The moment the words left his mouth, Benjamin’s fist flew forward. He controlled his strength—after all, the man was just a regular mortal. But when his knuckles slammed into Vogelbaum’s face, the fragile, aging body was still launched backward as if its skeleton had been ripped out, crashing into the bookshelf and sending half a row of hardcovers tumbling to the floor.

Vogelbaum collapsed onto his side, nearly all his teeth shattered and knocked loose, spilling out from the corner of his mouth along with a stream of blood. His breathing was ragged and weak, his chest heaving with great difficulty on the floorboards.

"My son is not a fucking asset!" Benjamin said coldly, pulling back his fist. He looked down at the half-dead old man on the floor, zero pity in his eyes. Serves him right. Even beating him to death wouldn’t matter.

"This punch isn’t just because you tricked me with some bullshit genetic experiment. It’s because you insulted my son. An asset? My son is not a fucking asset, and he’s not a goddamn product. He’s a human being. A living, breathing person. He’s a human first, and a Supe second. Fuck you!"

Homelander stood behind Benjamin, his lips parting slightly.

From the time he was a child, countless people had told him that he was an asset, a product, Vought’s most valuable IP, the most successful specimen in the laboratory, and the highest-numbered test subject in the incubation tanks. Madelyn told him he was Vought’s future. Edgar told him he was their most precious product. Vogelbaum told him he was an asset that needed protection. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Even he had started to believe it a little.

Now, his father stood right in front of him, telling the very old man who had manufactured him: He is not an asset. He is a human being.

It took Vogelbaum a long moment to collect his wits. Supporting himself with a trembling hand on the floorboards, he leaned back against the crooked bookshelf, blood still dripping from his mouth. He wanted to say something—whether to make an excuse or beg for mercy—but Benjamin had already turned around and snatched the manila envelope into his hand.

"The address is inside?"

Vogelbaum nodded, blood from his chin dripping onto the front of his shirt. He stared at Homelander. "John, listen to me. I am so deeply sorry. You should have grown up in a loving home, surrounded by family, not raised by doctors in a freezing laboratory. Now that I am old, I repent for what I did in my youth. When I think about what I did to you, and what you might do to others in the future, I just... I’m sorry... And to you, Benjamin, I am sorry."

Homelander shook his head. "I don’t need a single word of your bullshit apology."

"I truly am sorry."

"What the fuck do you want? Saying you’re sorry now, what the hell are you playing at?" Homelander shot back. "You expect to get my forgiveness? Now?"

By the end, Homelander’s lips were actually trembling, whether from the sudden flood of childhood memories or because the old man apologizing in front of him had finally admitted his mistakes. But regardless, Homelander knew deep down that it was all far too late. Way too late. If he had been raised by Benjamin since he was a kid, things would never have turned out like this. Never... Homelander’s emotions were highly volatile.

"Hypocritical, goddamn old bastard," Benjamin barked.

"I admit it was my fault. Do whatever the hell you want with me... I don’t need anything anymore. Now, I’m just an old man who knows he messed up," Vogelbaum muttered to himself.

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A/N: Want to know what happens next? You can read up to 20 Chapters ahead on my p@tr~on:

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