Chapter 278: Punklorde Mentality 『 Part Four 』
Teyvat—
Inside a restaurant within the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, Natlan.
"Oh my god! Are these two actually fighting?"
Ajaw hovered in mid-air, clutching a skewer of sizzling, oil-dripping beast meat with both hands, watching the two figures clashing like fire and water on the sky screen with unbridled excitement.
"If you ask me, arguing never solves anything. They should just throw hands! Whoever wins gets to be the boss of the Simulated Universe!"
Kinich reached out, grabbed Ajaw by the leg, and tossed him behind his back.
"Stop shouting. That Madam Herta is an Emanator of 『 Erudition 』. Ajaw, you should know by now that watching a battle between Emanators requires taking proper protective measures first, right?"
The last time Phantylia crushed a star, most of the spectators in Natlan went blind, dragons included. Ajaw had screamed the loudest; if the 『 Abundance 』 power radiating from the Ambrosial Arbor hadn't healed his eyes later, he likely wouldn't have known a moment's peace for the rest of his life.
Since then, a consensus had formed in Natlan: whenever an Emanator fights, no matter the scale, one must at least wear high-intensity protective goggles.
"Emanator? Doesn't that make it even more thrilling?"
Ajaw somersaulted in the air, spinning in circles with exaggerated flair.
"But her insults are pathetic, aren't they? A majestic Emanator, and that's the best she can do? That's it? If it were me, this is how I'd roast Screwllum!"
He cleared his throat, mimicking Herta's puffed-up demeanor:
"Screwllum, shut your filthy, rotting trap, you gloomy moron! You, stingy hunk of scrap metal who can't even bear to change his own lubricant! If I didn't pity you for being a mechanical dimwit with jammed gears, I, Herta, would have twirled—twirled you to death!"
Kinich seemed long accustomed to this, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"For all that talk, your insults aren't exactly scathing either."
"HAH??! Kinich, you stubborn sava—"
Just as Ajaw was about to unleash a torrent of profanity, Kinich grabbed him and threw him into a cage for a time-out, confiscating his portion of roast meat in the process.
—
「 "Herta, I have no intention of questioning you, nor do I deny the efforts you have poured into the Simulated Universe. However, I wish to grant knowledge more space to grow freely—"
"Enough!" Herta interrupted him furiously. "If you don't want to do it, then quit. Go explain it to the other two yourself… Oh, and take your technology with you. I don't want it."
Herta stormed out of the office in a huff, but slammed on the brakes right at the doorway.
"Screwllum, we've known each other for so long, but this is the first time…" She slowly turned her face to the side, the jawline of her puppet body cutting a sharp arc. "The first time I've felt that you really are just a piece of cold iron."
Upon seeing Stelle arrive, Screwllum promptly offered his apologies. When asked for the reason, he simply stated calmly that it was an academic disagreement between them; disagreements often lead to stubbornness, and stubbornness impedes the formation of knowledge.
"Are you worried about her mental state?"
"I am more concerned about the mental state of the researchers." Stelle glanced at Leonard, who was trembling behind her.
"Thank you for your humor; it is beneficial for the tense atmosphere." Screwllum shook his head. "Organic life's emotions are like tides; it was I who failed to observe the direction of the moon. Let Herta be alone for a while. It will be conducive to our subsequent discussions."
Stelle briefly explained the sequence of events to Screwllum. After a simple retrieval process, he stated that the "Punklorde Mentality" was not an ordinary Curio, but a love letter written to this universe by a Galaxy Ranger.
On Punklorde, "Aether Cartridges" are chips used by hackers to edit reality, as well as records of their lives and proof of their existence. The one contained within the Space Station belonged to a legend among them. The cartridge's owner was a Galaxy Ranger who had traversed the galaxy and roamed the four corners of the universe for a long time. The cartridge recorded significant information and was also part of the Simulated Universe's massive calculation data.
If one wished to continue the investigation, entering the Simulated Universe was the best method. Considering that the Simulated Universe was about to be shut down by him, this was the only opportunity to investigate. 」
「 ..... 」
〜Vought Cinematic Universe, The Boys Worldline〜
"Finally shutting down that damn thing."
In the conference room on the top floor of Vought Tower, Homelander watched Screwllum's statement, a flicker of satisfaction passing through his blue eyes.
The entities appearing within it—those Star Gods that transcended Earth, transcended cognition itself—had already caused widespread panic across the globe.
Overnight, various factions and organizations had sprung up like mushrooms after rain. There were the "Masked Fools" claiming to worship Aha, and the "Architects" following Qlipoth. In short, there were too many…
Crucially, these organizations not only failed to help his approval ratings, but they also advocated against Supes, turning instead to the worship of Star Gods—making his already declining approval ratings even worse.
Suddenly, Ashley pushed open the conference room doors, inviting him to join her in the training room on the lower levels. She had a candidate for the "Knight of Beauty" she had scouted.
"Hm."
The two descended in the elevator. After pushing open a sealed door, the cacophony of training immediately rushed out. The training room was brightly lit, with various Supes testing their abilities—some moving at high speeds, some demonstrating super hearing, others lifting barbells weighing several tons. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and metal.
"You,"
Ashley pointed to a conspicuous figure.
"Come here."
The man turned around, his armor gleaming coldly under the overhead lights. He was slender, with long, fiery red hair that looked like burning flames, and a face so handsome it seemed almost unreal. His medieval-style silver armor fitted his form perfectly, and he held an ornately decorated spear in his hand.
"Mr. Homelander,"
His voice was low and elegant, carrying a trace of imperceptible excitement.
"It is truly my greatest honor to meet you."
"And you, my friend, you are the real hero."
Homelander flashed a perfect smile, reaching out to pat his shoulder pauldron, the metal making a crisp clinking sound.
"Not bad,"
He said, his blue eyes narrowing slightly.
"Ashley, introduce him."
"Right."
Seeing Homelander display such a rare expression of pleasure, Ashley finally felt the heart suspended in her throat lower a little.
"His ability is plant manipulation; he can make plant roots and vines grow within a five-meter radius. We rushed him through plastic surgery, and that red hair is freshly dyed."
"Most importantly, this knight is part of the LGBTQ+ community, which will help us boost favorability significantly among young people. His parents are a black gay couple, which also carries considerable appeal with the 50-plus demographic."
—