The moon was bright and stars were sparse in the suburbs of New York.
Inside an abandoned auto repair shop warehouse, Butcher and his crew were lining a small room with zinc foil. A large black leather suitcase sat in the middle of the floor.
"You're having us put this up... to block Homelander's X-ray vision?" Butcher jumped off the ladder and pulled the zipper with a grin. "I'm going to see what this surprise is."
Wade sat in a rolling chair, spinning in place. "You and Frenchie will like it. The others, maybe not so much."
The moment the lid opened, a scent mixed with blood and disinfectant wafted out. It was wrapped in a thick layer of zinc foil.
Butcher tore away the layer, revealing a pale, battered figure that had been through hell.
Hughie took one look, felt his stomach churn, and turned away to retch. "It stinks... hurk—!"
The man's limbs were withered and hung limp; only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive.
Most chilling were the two large sections of skin plates on his back that had been completely torn open, as if he had endured some inhumane torture.
"Holy... shit..." MM leaned against the wall, frowning.
The playfulness vanished from Butcher's face as he pulled the man out of the suitcase. His gaze fixed on the stiff face: "Translucent."
The warehouse fell into a dead silence, with only the sound of Hughie's painful retching echoing.
"How did you do it? Doesn't he have diamond-hard skin?" Frenchie poked his head out with excitement, whistling, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Vought is going crazy looking for him." Butcher stared at Wade, speechless. "You turned him into this mess and then just dumped him on us?"
"Don't worry, the tracker on him has been removed. He's of zero value to me now. Consider this my... sincerity." Wade's expression was calm, his tone flat. "I'm sure you'll find a use for him."
Butcher rubbed his hands together, smiling brilliantly. "I love this gift!"
He knew this wasn't just a signal of cooperation, but a display and test of strength... the guy in front of him was not only extraordinary and mysterious but even more unscrupulous than they were.
"If you don't like what you're about to see, get out. It's my playtime now!" Butcher took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
No one left the room except for Hughie, who felt deeply uncomfortable and walked out alone.
The warehouse turned into a living hell.
The hatred accumulated in Butcher's heart rushed out like a flood through a broken dam. He raised the iron hammer high.
Over the next while, dull thuds and suppressed whimpers formed a low-pitched symphony.
Hughie fled outside, covering his ears tightly with his hands, curled up in a corner and trembling. He joined the team to pursue justice, not to participate in pure slaughter.
Inside the room, Frenchie stood excitedly to the side, holding various cutting tools and clicking his tongue in wonder.
MM leaned against the wall, watching coldly. "Butcher, watch your strength. Don't waste the 'materials'."
Half an hour later, everything finally stopped.
Butcher was soaked in sweat and blood, holding several scraps of material.
They were several complete skin plates with a matte texture, still dripping thick liquid from the edges.
Wade sat with his legs crossed and reminded them, "Forget about using those for invisibility; at most, they can be used as bulletproof vests with diamond-strength."
"That's enough." Butcher shook them out like showing off a trophy. "Without his turtle shell, this Translucent isn't much after all!"
He turned to the wide-eyed Frenchie. "Madman, process this stuff and make us a new set of clothes."
"Oui—" Frenchie stroked the tough leather. "Perfect material. This will be a work of art!"
Only then did MM step forward, nudging the motionless remains on the floor with his foot. "Vented enough? How do we handle this?"
Butcher dropped the hammer and wiped the blood from his face. "Pack up our big star. When the sun rises tomorrow, I want everyone in the city to see... our warm regards on the lawn of Central Park."
MM pondered for a moment and shook his head. "Public areas are full of people and surveillance. No matter how we plan the route, they'll find us. Unless... there's someone who isn't afraid of being recognized."
Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at Wade, who was sitting in a chair playing with his phone.
Wade didn't even look up, speaking calmly, "Southeast corner of Central Park. 10 PM. Under a surveillance camera, a passerby will discover the suitcase and call the police."
"The witnesses will describe to the media that they clearly saw Vought Corporation CEO Madelyn Stillwell drop the suitcase off herself before driving away."
A brief silence fell over the warehouse.
MM paced back and forth, clapping his hands together several times. "What a brilliant idea!! The House and the Senate will never hand over defense affairs to a crazy company that dumps its own employees' bodies... regardless of whether it's true or not!"
"F**k me!" Butcher burst into a wild laugh after the brief shock. "You're a goddamn devil... I like it. Let's do it."
"Then I'll add a timed ejection device to the suitcase. Once it's activated, it'll go 'bang' and burst open upon touch." Frenchie grinned. "Let Vought's PR department be busy as hell!!"
...The bright moon hung in the sky. In the Scarsdale villa district, Villa No. 58 was still lit.
Wade landed on the balcony and manipulated the airflow to open the locked door. Sensing the carbon dioxide concentration along the way, he arrived at the study.
Pushing the door open, he saw Mena wearing a black lace nightgown and purple-framed glasses, frowning at a table scattered with files.
Her split screen showed Vought Corporation's financial report analysis and a draft summary of the National Defense Authorization Act.
"Once they get a line to military procurement, our Targeted Medicine will never have a chance." She didn't look up, tugging at her hair anxiously. "What should we do? Should we leak all the dirt we have right now?"
Wade walked around the room. An elegant fragrance entered his nostrils, and he felt the tense nerves in his brain relax involuntarily.
He walked behind Mena and massaged her stiff neck and shoulders. "It's fine. I've arranged for someone to handle it. Just wait for the news tomorrow."
"Tsk... now is not the time to relax." Mena looked up, keenly catching the lingering ferocity between his brows. "Little cutie, what did you do? Don't be impulsive!"
"I did what you were planning to do—sent a gift to Vought Corporation's pipe dream of entering defense affairs." Wade picked her up by the waist and walked toward the bedroom. "Don't worry, it won't be traced back to me."
"Wait, my glasses..."
"Don't take them off."
In the warmth of their embrace and the blending of their breaths, Wade felt that the blood, screams, conspiracies, and calculations... were truly shut out.
He closed his eyes, wanting to find a moment of peace here.
"..."
Two hours later, in the bedroom.
Mena lay on her side, fast asleep. Wade, who was resting with his eyes closed, looked at the clock on the wall and quietly got up.
'It's time. If I head back now, I'll be just in time to visit "The Woods" laboratory!'
He flew out of the window, his form rippling like water and quickly vanishing into the air.
The night wind howled as an invisible figure tore through the clouds, speeding toward Godolkin University.
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