Chapter 39: Out-of-Control Superhuman, Lin Yuan's Heavy-Handed Correction
The white vapor trail left in the sky when Homelander Johnflew away had not yet been dispersed by the sea breeze.
It looked like a crazed white snake darting blindly through the gloomy clouds.
Lin Yuan stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, using his thumb to rub off a bird dropping stain on the glass.
He was just about to go and pour out the half-cup of cold coffee on the table.
"Buzz—buzz—buzz!"
The seawater in the giant fish tank suddenly churned violently.
Splashes of water hit the explosion-proof glass with a pattering sound.
Timothy's head vibrated at a high frequency in the water, emitting a shrill sonar alarm.
The sound exploded in Lin Yuan's mind, wet and dripping, filled with a sense of panicked urgency.
"Boss! Something big happened! Seagull says there's a big guy going crazy in the South District slums, for real!"
Timothy's eight tentacles were suctioned tightly against the glass, his eyes wide open.
"Going crazy? One of Vought's second-rate lackeys drank too much again, didn't they?"
Lin Yuan picked his ear with some impatience, a tiny speck of earwax sticking to his finger.
"It's not from drinking too much! It's too much compound v! The side effects kicked in, dang it!"
Timothy spat out a long string of rapid white bubbles in the water.
"That guy is called 'Bonecrusher,' and his strength is boundless."
"He's smashing cars on the street right now, and he even pulled out a lamppost to use as a baseball bat, for real!"
"Two waves of Vought's SWAT team went, and their riot shields were smashed into scrap metal. Sea Crab says the street is covered in blood, didn't they?"
Lin Yuan frowned.
He tossed the crumpled tissue in his hand into the wastebasket.
Bonecrusher?
He had some impression of him; in the original story, he was a second-rate thug who fought in underground illegal boxing matches. He had strength, but no brains.
"The SWAT team can't hold him off?"
Lin Yuan turned and walked toward his desk, tugging at his gray casual suit.
The collar button had popped open earlier, and some frayed threads were scratching his neck, making it slightly red.
"They can't! Bullets hitting him are like scratching an itch, and he even ripped out a SWAT officer's intestines, it's gruesome!"
Timothy's voice cracked from fear.
"Boss, are we going to deal with it? That place is too dirty, it reeks of crap, for real."
"Deal with it? Why wouldn't I?"
Lin Yuan grinned coldly, revealing a set of bone-white teeth.
"I just established the Civilian Protection Foundation, and I can't waste this living billboard that's been delivered to my doorstep, dang it."
He didn't change into that unmarked black night-ops suit.
This time, he would establish a solid rule in front of all the citizens of New York under the identity of "The Deep."
Lin Yuan's feet lifted slightly off the ground.
A Gravity Field expanded silently, blowing the sun-blocking curtains in front of the floor-to-ceiling window high into the air.
"Whoosh—"
A muffled sonic boom.
His figure dove straight from high altitude into the fog-filled downtown area of New York.
South District, slums.
The air was filled with the pungent smell of gasoline, the sour stench of fermenting garbage, and the heavy scent of blood.
The street was in complete chaos.
A yellow taxi had been overturned in the middle of the road, its four wheels still spinning futilely in the air with a "buzzing" sound.
Bonecrusher was a bald, burly man over two meters tall.
The cheap undershirt he was wearing had long since been ripped apart.
Revealing the bulging, granite-like muscle masses underneath, covered in black, engorged veins.
"Ahhh! All of you f***ing die! Die!"
His eyes were scarlet, and sticky white foam hung from the corners of his mouth as he rampaged through the street like an out-of-control wild boar.
"Bang!"
He kicked a black riot vehicle belonging to Vought Security.
The three-ton vehicle was shoved sideways by two meters, the tires screeching against the asphalt and emitting a pungent smell of burnt rubber.
Two SWAT officers in bulletproof vests hid behind the vehicle, their faces green with terror.
The submachine guns they held were shaking so much they couldn't aim at all.
"Requesting backup! Requesting backup! We need heavy firepower! This monster is crazy!"
One SWAT officer roared into the radio, his voice filled with the fear of death.
In the surrounding old apartment buildings.
Many civilians huddled behind their windows, filming secretly with their phones while trembling, no one daring to make a sound.
Bonecrusher saw the SWAT officers hiding behind the vehicle and let out a beastly, strange laugh.
He strode over.
He wrapped his hands around a thick concrete lamppost on the side of the road.
"Creak—"
His muscles bulged, and chunks of concrete and dust showered down.
He ripped the lamppost, still connected to the power lines, right out of its foundation, electric sparks flashing "pop-pop" at the broken end.
"Die! You bugs!"
He hoisted the concrete pillar, which weighed several hundred jin.
With an overwhelming, ferocious wind, he smashed it down hard toward the riot vehicle.
The SWAT officers closed their eyes in despair.
Just at this critical moment.
"Boom!"
A dull, deafening sound.
The lamppost in Bonecrusher's hand did not hit the vehicle.
Instead, it was stopped dead in mid-air as if it had struck an invisible steel plate.
The immense recoil caused the webbing between Bonecrusher's thumb and index finger to split open, blood sliding down the back of his hand, slick and viscous.
He was stunned.
He shook his numb head and looked closely.
Amidst the dust filling the air.
A tall man in a gray casual suit was blocking the front of the riot vehicle, having appeared out of nowhere.
Lin Yuan.
He didn't even raise his head.
With one hand raised casually in the air, he steadily held up the concrete lamppost that had been swinging down.
The posture was so relaxed, as if he were holding a toothpick, really.
The surrounding air went quiet for a moment.
Even the heavy breathing of the SWAT officers could be clearly heard.
"You... who the f*** are you? Daring to meddle in my business?"
Bonecrusher's eyes were bloodshot, he shook the blood droplets off his hand, and spittle sprayed all over the ground.
Lin Yuan looked up, his gaze indifferent as he looked at him, as if looking at a pile of stinking garbage.
He applied a little force with his right hand.
"Snap!"
The bucket-thick concrete lamppost.
Instantly snapped in two in his hand like a brittle biscuit.
The shattered concrete chunks fell into a puddle, splashing up oily, dirty water.
"The Deep?"
The SWAT officer hiding behind the vehicle recognized Lin Yuan's face and shouted in surprise and joy.
"It's Mr. The Deep! We're saved!"
In the surrounding apartment buildings, those civilians filming secretly also let out suppressed gasps of surprise.
The Deep actually came to the slums to save people himself?
This was the first time in Vought's history.
When Bonecrusher heard the words "The Deep," he paused for a moment, then burst into a wild, arrogant laugh.
"Hahahaha! The Deep? That loser who only knows how to kiss goldfish?"
He tossed the remaining half of the concrete pillar in his hand onto the ground, smashing a green trash can.
"Why aren't you soaking in your swimming pool instead of running here to die, for real!"
While mocking him, he cracked his knuckles.
His bones made a "crack-crack" sound as he strode toward Lin Yuan.
Lin Yuan ignored his taunts.
He even raised his hand to tug at his tie, loosening the collar that had tightened from his earlier movements.
"You've fried your brain with drugs, I don't blame you, really."
Lin Yuan's voice wasn't loud, but with the support of his mental power, it clearly spread throughout the entire street.
"But you made my street so dirty, and you scared my civilians."
"The rules have to change today, got it."
Bonecrusher was completely enraged by his indifferent attitude.
"Rules? I'm going to beat you loser into a pulp right now and let you talk about rules in the sewers!"
He roared.
He exerted force with his feet, stomping a deep hole into the asphalt road surface.
His massive body, like a cannonball fired from a chamber, swung a fist the size of a washbasin, charging straight at Lin Yuan's face.
The power of this punch.
Was enough to punch through an elephant on the spot.
The SWAT officers covered their eyes in fear, not daring to look at the bloody scene that was about to follow.
Lin Yuan remained standing in place, motionless.
He didn't even intend to dodge.
He just quietly watched that fist rapidly enlarge before his eyes.
The wind from the punch blew the few strands of hair on his forehead backward.
Just a ten-thousandth of a second before the fist was about to touch the tip of his nose.
Lin Yuan moved.
He slowly raised his right hand, the movement looking slow and sluggish, as if he were shooing away a fly.
Then, seemingly nonchalantly, he slapped Bonecrusher's steel-like chest.
"Bang—"
An extremely dull, deafening sound that made one's heart skip a beat.
It wasn't the sound of flesh colliding, but the muffled sound of a heavy truck slamming into a mountain at high speed.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
Bonecrusher's ferocious face.
Froze in an instant, his pupils shrinking into tiny black dots.
He felt as if he hadn't collided with a hand, but with an exploding supernova.
"Crack, crack, crack..."
A continuous, shrill series of bone-cracking sounds exploded wildly from inside his chest cavity.
His much-vaunted, immense defensive strength.
Was as fragile as a piece of water-soaked window paper in the face of Lin Yuan's Viltrumite monster strength.
The next second.
This rampaging superhuman.
Didn't even have time to let out a scream, his entire body instantly flying backward like a heavy cannonball fired from a chamber.
The speed was so fast it created a sharp sonic boom.
"Boom!"
He smashed hard into the concrete wall of the old three-story apartment building behind him.
The sky full of bricks and dust instantly engulfed him.
The entire load-bearing wall was smashed by him, creating a huge crack three meters in diameter that spread wildly like a spiderweb.
The shrill sound of steel bars snapping and the "creaking" sound of the building teetering on the edge of collapse mixed together, making one's scalp tingle.
The street was deathly silent.
Only the dull sound of Bonecrusher sliding out of the wall crack and falling into the pile of broken bricks could be heard.
He lay limp in the ruins.
His chest was completely sunken, like a crushed soda can.
Large mouthfuls of black bloody foam poured out of his mouth, his limbs twitching from time to time, and he had completely become a pile of mush.
The monster that had been arrogant just a moment ago.
Was slapped into a cripple by The Deep with a single blow.
The SWAT officers hiding behind the riot vehicle dropped their guns to the ground.
Their mouths were wide open, their eyes almost popping out, looking at Lin Yuan, who stood in the dust, as if looking at a god.
Is... is this still that The Deep who only knows how to do funny PR?
This f***ing guy is a human-shaped nuke!
The civilians upstairs also forgot their fear.
Their phone cameras were trained tightly on Lin Yuan, the screens flooded with exclamation marks.
Lin Yuan stood amidst the mess.
He looked at his right hand.
The palm was stained with a bit of dirty blood and sweat from Bonecrusher's chest, sticky and viscous.
He disgustedly pulled a white tissue from his suit pocket and slowly wiped the blood off his hand, bit by bit.
Then, he tossed the blood-stained tissue ball into the puddle beside him.
The tissue ball soaked up the dirty water and slowly sank.
"Got it."
Lin Yuan looked up, meeting the countless gazes of awe and fear around him.
A cold, cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"This street belongs to me now, got it."
Chapter 40: Crushed by a Single Punch, Violence is the Only Truth
On the concrete wall, large chunks of grey debris fell with a clatter, accompanied by choking clouds of dust.
Bonecrusher, like a ball of crumpled plasticine, was embedded limply in the red brick ruins.
He was spitting out mouthfuls of black blood.
The thick blood dripped down his coarse stubble, staining the concrete slab on the ground a bright, glistening red.
The smell of blood mixed with the scent of dust, assaulting the nose and making one want to retch.
His eyes, previously scarlet and brutal, were now filled with fear and dullness.
He struggled, using two fingers as thick as carrots to claw at the broken bricks on the ground.
His fingernails were torn back, oozing yellow fluid.
He tried to push his body up from the ruins.
But Lin Yuan's tangible Viltrumite mental pressure felt like an invisible mountain.
Pressing down heavily on his back, it kept him from even straightening his knees.
"Creak..."
A wheezing, broken sound came from his throat, like an old bellows being pulled.
Lin Yuan walked over, step by step, treading on broken glass and concrete chunks scattered across the ground.
The soles of his leather boots scraped against the ground, making a teeth-grinding "swish" sound.
He stopped in front of Bonecrusher.
His grey casual suit didn't have a single wrinkle, and his tie rested perfectly straight against his chest.
"You... what do you want to do... I am Vought International's man..."
Looking into Lin Yuan's dark, heavy eyes, Bonecrusher was so terrified that his crotch was soaked.
Yellow urine trickled down the leg of his combat suit, smelling foul.
Inside the surrounding apartment buildings.
Hundreds of smartphone lenses poked out from the windows, locked onto the chaotic street below.
Those civilians, who were usually so oppressed by superhumans that they dared not even lift their heads.
Were now holding their breath, eyes unblinking.
Lin Yuan bent down.
The right hand that had just crushed a concrete lamppost reached out, seemingly casually.
It grabbed the blue carotid artery, as thick as a little finger, on Bonecrusher's neck.
"Get up, don't wriggle on the ground like a maggot, it's really pathetic."
Lin Yuan applied a little force with his arm.
"Snap."
Like picking up a chick.
He lifted this two-meter-tall, three-hundred-pound muscle monster straight out of the ruins with one hand.
Bonecrusher's feet kicked wildly in mid-air.
The steel-toed boots on his feet kicked at the air, making futile whooshing sounds.
He desperately tried to pry open Lin Yuan's fingers with both hands.
But Lin Yuan's fingers were like they were cast from steel, not moving an inch.
"Cough, cough... let go... I can't breathe..."
He rolled his eyes, his tongue lolling out of his mouth unconsciously.
Lin Yuan didn't look at him, but turned his head instead.
Those cold eyes slowly swept across the windows flashing with smartphone cameras.
Finally, they fixed on the two Vought International SWAT officers trembling a few meters away.
His voice wasn't loud, but under the influence of the mental waves he intentionally controlled.
It sounded like a thunderclap, clearly reaching the entire slum street and entering all the microphones of the phones currently livestreaming.
"Superpowers have never been a talisman for you scum to act recklessly, isn't that right?"
Lin Yuan's voice was as cold as if it had been soaked in ice water.
"Anyone who commits a crime on this street and lays a hand on civilians."
"Must pay the price, that's all."
He withdrew his gaze and let it fall back on the face of the Bonecrusher he was holding.
Looking into those eyes devoid of any warmth, Bonecrusher finally realized what kind of monster he had provoked.
"I was wrong... Lord Deep! I won't dare to do it again! Please let me go! I was high on drugs!"
He cried out, his face smeared with snot and blood.
A dignified super-strength superhuman, now more humble than a begging beggar.
"Know you're wrong? It's too late, seriously."
A cold, impossibly arrogant smile curled at the corner of Lin Yuan's mouth.
"Today, your blood will be used to set this rule for everyone."
His left hand still tightly gripped Bonecrusher's neck, suspending him in mid-air.
He slowly clenched his right fist.
His five fingers tightened, and his knuckles made a piercing "crack" sound.
A violent force, enough to subtly distort the surrounding air, condensed crazily on Lin Yuan's right fist.
"No! Don't—!"
Bonecrusher let out the last, desperately shrill scream of his life.
"Bang—!"
Without the slightest hesitation, without any flashy moves.
Lin Yuan's right fist was like a heavy armor-piercing shell fired from a barrel.
Carrying a sharp sonic boom that tore through the air.
It slammed fiercely and unreservedly into the very center of Bonecrusher's chest.
"Crack!"
A bone-chilling sound of bones shattering echoed across the entire street in an instant.
Bonecrusher's high-density muscles and sternum, which he was so proud of and which even anti-materiel sniper rifles couldn't penetrate.
In front of Lin Yuan's pure Viltrumite monster strength.
Were as fragile as a piece of freshly made bean dregs.
Lin Yuan's fist punched straight through his thick chest cavity.
The violent, unparalleled force of the punch penetrated his body and exploded instantly like a miniature bomb inside him.
"Puff—"
A large lump suddenly bulged on Bonecrusher's back, followed by a violent explosion.
A large mass of flesh and blood, mixed with bone shards and organ fragments, sprayed out from his back like a fountain.
On the concrete wall behind him, it smeared into a shocking, reddish-brown bloodstain.
His core organs, which he was so proud of.
Under this punch from Lin Yuan, were completely pulverized into mush.
Physical annihilation, clean and swift.
Lin Yuan released his left hand.
"Plop."
Bonecrusher's massive, incomplete corpse, which had completely lost its life fluctuations.
Like a pile of tattered rotten meat, slammed heavily into a puddle, splashing up a large spray of scarlet water.
Dead as a doornail.
The entire street was deathly silent.
The civilians holding phones to film were shaking, and the images on their screens swayed violently.
The Vought International SWAT officers even forgot to pick up their guns from the ground, their mouths wide open, staring at Lin Yuan as if they were looking at a ghost.
Is... is this still that Deep who talks environmental nonsense on TV every day?
Punched through a super-strength superhuman?
This is a damn human-shaped tyrannosaurus!
Without the ridiculous antics and nonsense from the original.
Only pure, extreme, suffocating iron-blooded violence.
After a brief silence.
Someone upstairs yelled out first.
"Well done! Deep!"
Immediately after.
The entire street, the entire slum, was like a powder keg ignited in an instant.
"Deep! Deep!"
"Superhero! A real hero!"
The deafening cheers and whistles erupted like a tsunami, covering everything.
Those civilians who had been oppressed by Vought International and treated like ants by evil superhumans.
At this moment, looked at Lin Yuan with eyes filled with fanatical awe and faith.
Lin Yuan stood at the edge of the pool of blood, not a single drop of blood spattered on his shoes.
He pulled a white silk handkerchief from his suit pocket and leisurely wiped a speck of flesh from his right hand.
Then, he tossed the handkerchief casually onto Bonecrusher's corpse.
Facing the fanatical cheers filling the street, he lifted his chin slightly as a response.
Turned around.
Under the gaze of countless smartphone lenses, he elegantly strode forward with his long legs, walking towards the end of the fog-filled street.
Leaving the entire New York with a cold, invincible, yet incredibly righteous tall silhouette.
Meanwhile, tens of kilometers away, on the top floor of the Vought International headquarters building.
In the CEO's office, the air pressure was low enough to freeze someone to death.
The air was full of the bitter smell of burnt cigars.
The big boss, Stan Edgar, sat in his wide leather chair.
On his inscrutable face, which was usually devoid of any ripples.
At this moment, his eyes were so gloomy they looked like they could drip water.
On the giant LCD screen on the table, the livestream footage of Lin Yuan crushing Bonecrusher with one punch was playing on a loop.
"He didn't just hide his strength."
Stan Edgar clasped his fingers together, his thumbs pressing hard against the back of his other hand, his nails turning white.
"Furthermore, he is stealing the public opinion from my hands."
He stared at the resolute silhouette of Deep on the screen and whispered.
"Contact Victoria Neuman immediately. Tell her that this chess piece, Deep, might be even more dangerous than John. She has work to do."
Chapter 41: Stan Edgar's Attention, The Deep is Acting Strangely
On the screen.
That bloodied face, stained with a white silk handkerchief, was frozen and magnified.
Bonecrusher's sunken chest was a shocking sight.
Stan Edgar slowly closed the pure gold Parker fountain pen in his hand.
The pen cap let out a crisp "click," which sounded jarringly loud in the deathly silent office.
On his dark-skinned face, no emotional fluctuation could be detected.
Only those hawk-like eyes stared fixedly at the tall back of Lin Yuan as he turned away on the screen.
Standing behind him was Victoria Neuman, wearing a sharp, professional suit.
She had her hands folded over her lower abdomen, quiet as a breathless shadow.
The air was permeated with the bitter scent of the expensive cigar on Stan Edgar.
"Victoria."
Stan Edgar did not turn around; his voice was low and hoarse, exuding the unquestionable authority of a superior.
"Our 'King of the Ocean' seems to have taken the wrong medicine lately, hasn't he?"
Victoria Neuman took a half-step forward.
Her high heels stepped onto the thick carpet without making a muffled sound.
"Are you saying he has been hiding his strength?"
She looked at that shocking punch on the screen, a flash of imperceptible wariness deep in her eyes.
"Not just his strength."
Stan Edgar tapped his pen lightly on the desk.
"Tap, tap."
"Haven't you noticed? His style of conduct, his PR orientation."
"Even every word he says in front of the media is deliberately breaking away from Madelyn's control."
He turned his leather chair around.
Those sharp eyes stared at Victoria Neuman.
"He even paid out of his own pocket today to set up some bullshit civilian protection fund."
"That's not something that idiot who only knows how to kiss dolphins and worries every day about losing followers would do."
Victoria Neuman frowned.
She pinched her palm with her exquisitely manicured nails.
"Do you mean… he found a new backer in private?"
"Or, did someone inject him with some undisclosed, improved version of Compound V?"
"An improved compound? We'd have to ask those useless scientists of ours burning money in the basement, wouldn't we."
Stan Edgar sneered.
"I suspect more that he found some wild path of his own."
"Or perhaps Butcher and that gang of rats in the gutter gave him some benefits, letting him come out to disgust Vought."
He stood up.
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the traffic below that looked as small as ants.
"In this world, superheroes can only have one master: Vought."
"I do not allow any product to upgrade its own system without my signed approval, you know?"
Stan Edgar turned around.
"Go, secretly investigate his recent financial flow, as well as his itinerary for the last two days."
"Whether it's where he drank coffee or which woman he met at which nightclub, investigate everything clearly for me."
Victoria Neuman nodded.
"I understand. I will use the name of the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs to check his private accounts."
"If he really has a problem, do you need me to… take him out?"
She narrowed her eyes slightly, a flash of bloodthirsty red light flickering in her gaze.
"Take him out? No, that would be too wasteful."
Stan Edgar shook his finger.
"He is now the'savior' of all New York; this signboard is even more useful than John right now."
"What I want is to make him put the collar back on and honestly stay in the swimming pool."
He walked to the desk and pressed the red button on the intercom.
"Ashley, get up here, now."
His voice was as cold as ice shards.
Less than a minute later, Ashley scrambled to push open the office door.
Her blonde wig was tilted to one side, and her forehead was covered in sweat.
"Mr… Mr. Edgar! I'm here! The Public Relations Departmentis doing everything possible to handle the trending searches online, please…"
"Shut up."
Stan Edgar interrupted her impatiently.
"Go arrange a private dinner. High-profile."
"Right at my private estate in Long Island, tonight, I want to invite our great hero, The Deep, to dinner alone."
Ashley froze.
Her mouth was open wide enough to fit an egg.
The big boss personally inviting The Deep to dinner? This was a first in the history of The Seven.
"Ye… yes! I'll get right on it! Should I invite Ms. Madelyn as well…"
"I said, alone."
Stan Edgar emphasized his tone, his eyes scraping across Ashley's face like knives.
"In that brain of yours stuffed with wig hair, can you not understand human language?"
Ashley shuddered in fear and quickly covered her mouth.
"I understand! I won't tell anyone! I'll arrange it immediately!"
She backed away a few steps and scrambled out of the office in a panic.
Stan Edgar watched the mahogany door close again.
"Victoria, you go prepare as well."
"Tonight's dinner won't be very pleasant."
He leaned back in his chair again.
His gaze fell once more on the frozen screen, staring at Lin Yuan's cold profile, his eyes as deep as a dry well.
Victoria Neuman took the order and retreated.
The crisp and rhythmic sound of her high heels echoed in the hallway.
…
Evening, the streets of New York.
A thick fog blanketed the entire city in gray.
A black Rolls-Royce minivan was driving smoothly on the highway to Long Island.
Soothing classical music played in the cabin.
Lin Yuan sat in the back row.
He held a freshly poured glass of ice water, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.
He had changed out of his casual suit.
He had put on a black, tailored haute couture tuxedo that fit perfectly.
The Windsor knot at his collar was tied meticulously.
His whole person exuded an untouchable, "stranger-stay-away" aura.
"Boss, Ashley just said on the phone that the old man Stan Edgar wants to invite you to dinner alone tonight."
In the earpiece, Timothy's sticky, wet voice sounded at the right time.
"The seabirds say that the estate is full of armed bodyguards inside and out, even the dog doors are guarded."
Lin Yuan took a sip of ice water.
The water was a bit too cold for his teeth, so he spat out a small, unmelted piece of ice.
"He can't sit still anymore."
"Seeing me stealing the spotlight on the street today, he wants to come and test my bottom line."
Lin Yuan watched the scenery rapidly receding outside the car window.
The light from the streetlamps hit his face, flickering on and off.
"That old man is as cunning as a ghost; tonight is likely a trap."
Timothy was blowing bubbles in the water tank with some worry.
"Boss, should I have Great White Shark standby outside the Long Island coastline, just in case they turn hostile…"
"No need."
Lin Yuan interrupted it.
"In the face of absolute power, those few broken guns aren't even as good as fire pokers."
"I'm going today just to see what new tricks this old fox can pull."
Just then, the custom gray phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated with a "buzz."
The screen lit up; it was an encrypted text message.
No sender number.
Lin Yuan took out the phone and opened it.
"Madelyn just left the headquarters building, looking terrible. She didn't go to John's lounge."
"Ashley was on the phone in the restroom just now, and I overheard it."
"Stan Edgar not only arranged the dinner, he also had the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs secretly freeze all your private accounts."
"Be careful tonight; they might have an ambush. — — Hughie."
Lin Yuan looked at these lines on the screen.
The corners of his mouth slowly curled into an extremely cold, even slightly bloodthirsty and arrogant smile.
"This short assistant is quite quick on his feet."
He deleted the message casually and threw the phone onto the leather seat beside him.
"Boss, what did Assistant Hughie say? Is that old man going to make a move on you?"
Timothy was spinning around anxiously in the earpiece.
"He wants to cut off my money bag and find out my trump cards at the same time."
Lin Yuan squeezed his fingers.
His knuckles made a "crack" sound, which was exceptionally crisp in the quiet cabin.
"Too bad he doesn't know."
"My money has long been completely laundered in Ezekiel's black ledger."
"What he froze are just some coins thrown on the surface to feed the dogs."
Lin Yuan turned his head.
He looked at the vast, brightly lit Long Island estate faintly appearing in the fog ahead.
"Since he insists on hosting dinner."
"Then tonight, I will teach him properly who is the one truly holding the knife and fork at this table."
Lin Yuan finished the remaining ice water in the glass in one gulp.
With a crack, the glass was casually crushed into powder in his hand.
Chapter 42: The Cold-Blooded CEO, Lin Yuan Plays Along
Glass powder trickled down through the gaps in Lin Yuan's fingers, falling onto the expensive floor mat.
After a sharp brake, the black and gold luxury van stopped steadily in front of the blindingly red welcome carpet of the Vought private estate.
The car door was pulled open from the outside, and a cold gust of wind mixed with the scent of sea salt and expensive cigars flooded into the cabin.
Lin Yuan brushed the glass shards off his hands and tugged at the black tie that was choking him slightly.
He lowered his head and climbed out of the cabin, his leather shoes making a sticky, muffled sound as they stepped onto the carpet.
Two bodyguards in black suits, nearly two meters tall and wearing sunglasses, stood like iron towers on either side of the car door.
The unwashed smell of machine oil on them made Lin Yuan frown.
"Mr. Deep, the boss has been waiting for you for a long time. Please."
The bodyguard on the left stretched out his hand expressionlessly, making a gesture to invite him in.
"Alright, lead the way, don't dawdle."
Lin Yuan spat, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and followed them swaggeringly.
The interior of the estate was eerily quiet.
Apart from the "click-clack" of leather shoes on the marble floor, not even a bird's chirp could be heard.
He pushed open the two heavy, solid copper doors.
What came into view was a banquet hall so spacious it could host a soccer game.
The massive crystal chandelier on the ceiling emitted a cold light, making the oil paintings on the surrounding walls look eerie.
In the center of the room, there was only one ridiculously long mahogany dining table.
Stan Edgar sat alone at the very end of the long table.
His hands were crossed on the table, like a black-faced sculpture devoid of any living presence.
He wasn't wearing a suit jacket.
He only wore a pure white shirt, with the collar buttoned up tightly and meticulously.
Seeing Lin Yuan walk in, Stan Edgar didn't even lift an eyelid.
"Sit down, Kevin."
His voice was low and hoarse, carrying a buzzing echo in the empty hall.
Lin Yuan grinned, perfectly nailing the demeanor of a subservient, low-level hero.
He took two quick steps.
He pulled out the chair furthest from Stan Edgar, perched on the very edge of the seat, and sat down awkwardly.
"Oh, Mr. Stan Edgar, calling me here in the middle of the night, you're really killing me."
Lin Yuan rubbed his hands together, his face plastered with a fake, flattered smile.
He even deliberately squeezed out two tiny beads of sweat on his forehead.
"I don't know if you called me here because there's a new PR task to assign?"
Stan Edgar picked up the half-glass of red wine beside him and swirled it gently in his hand.
The bright red wine left sticky trails on the walls of the crystal glass.
"PR? You're the big savior of all New York now; why would I need to arrange tasks for you?"
Stan Edgar's words were sharp, like a rusty knife, slowly scraping against one's bones.
"I heard that today in the South District, you punched a hole right through Bonecrusher's chest cavity?"
He looked up, his falcon-like eyes staring fixedly at Lin Yuan.
"I've never seen you use this kind of strength when you were playing ball with dolphins at the aquarium before."
Lin Yuan sneered inwardly; the old fox was indeed testing his background.
He pretended to be flustered as if his secrets had been exposed, waving his hands repeatedly, nearly knocking over the goblet in front of him.
"Mr. Stan Edgar, please don't joke with me. How could I have that kind of ability!"
Lin Yuan lowered his voice, as if confessing some shameful secret.
"Bonecrusher was just high on drugs and had a heart attack! I just happened to give him a push!"
As he spoke, he used his hands to gesture.
"Besides, I've been getting beaten up in the gym every day lately, I was forced to, had no choice."
"Oh? Forced by whom?"
Stan Edgar put down his wine glass and leaned forward slightly, as if watching a monkey performing tricks.
"Who else could it be, John!"
Lin Yuan gritted his teeth, perfectly portraying a small character who had suffered every grievance and could only seethe with rage in the dark.
"He scares me every day with his heat vision, he doesn't even spare my locker room! I'm afraid one day I'll really be roasted into a fish!"
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a bruise on his forearm that he had deliberately created earlier.
"I hit those sandbags reinforced with steel plates in the basement every day until my hands were almost destroyed, just hoping that one day I could run fast enough not to be killed by him."
Lin Yuan's half-true, half-false complaint, paired with his aggrieved look that made it seem like tears were about to fall, was simply perfect.
After listening, Stan Edgar's mouth twitched slightly, a half-smile appearing.
"Hard training in combat? That does fit your pathetic desire to survive."
He leaned back into his chair, his fingers tapping silently on the table.
"However, how is it that I heard... that you've been getting very close to that charlatan Ezekiel lately? And even transferring funds in secret?"
As soon as these words were spoken, the temperature in the air seemed to drop by a dozen degrees, cold enough to make one shiver.
Stan Edgar's gaze became extremely sinister, like a venomous snake, clamping tightly onto Lin Yuan's throat.
"Those trashy photos of you naked in the red-light district, I've been keeping them in my safe for you, Kevin."
He picked up his wine glass and took a slow, deliberate sip.
"If you think your wings have hardened and you want to break free from the company's control, I can make you infamous at any moment and send you to the sewers to fight rats for bread."
This threat was blunt and vicious, carrying that unique arrogance of a capitalist who views human life as worthless as grass.
Lin Yuan sat in the chair, outwardly terrified, his face turning pale, his breathing stopping for a beat.
His hands gripped the edge of the table tightly, his fingernails digging into the mahogany with a creaking sound.
"N-no such thing! Mr. Stan Edgar! Even if you gave me ten times the courage, I wouldn't dare!"
He defended himself loudly, his voice full of panicked cracks.
"I looked for Ezekiel because I wanted to get some sponsorship money from the church! To fill the hole in the company's PR fund!"
He was sweating profusely, almost ready to kneel down and swear to the heavens.
"I was raised by Vought! Without the company, I'm nothing!"
"I am Vought's person in life, and I will be Vought's ghost in death! Whoever you tell me to bite, I'll bite!"
Watching Lin Yuan's cowardly appearance, as if he were about to wet his pants in fear, the murderous intent in Stan Edgar's eyes finally faded a little.
He understood the psychology of such low-level superhumans too well. Greedy and cowardly; as long as you hold their leverage and give them a little sweetness, they can wag their tails like dogs.
Although The Deep was in the spotlight today, in his bones, he was still just a clown who couldn't be helped up from the mud.
"Alright, stop showing your loyalty in front of me, it's nauseating."
Stan Edgar waved his hand with some disgust. He picked up the bottle of decanted Lafite on the table and poured a shallow glass of red wine into both his own glass and the one in front of Lin Yuan.
The scarlet wine shimmered with a blood-like light under the lamps.
"As long as you behave and avoid conflicts with John in the future," Stan Edgar raised his glass, looking down at Lin Yuan, "whatever you want, the company will satisfy you. Do you understand?"
Lin Yuan stood up, scrambling as if he had been granted an amnesty. He held up the wine glass with both hands, his waist bent until it was almost touching the table.
"Understood! Absolutely understood! Thank you for your cultivation, Mr. Stan Edgar! I toast to you!"
The two crystal wine glasses clinked gently in mid-air, emitting a crisp "clink" sound.
Stan Edgar took a sip of wine with an expressionless face. But the moment Lin Yuan tilted his head to drink, the cowardice and panic in his eyes, hidden in the shadows, were swept away. Replacing them was a hint of cold, boundless, and arrogant mockery.
This old fox really thought a few threats could hold him down? It was simply a pipe dream.
Just as Lin Yuan swallowed the sour red wine, his perverted-level [Super Hearing] instantly pierced through the empty hall.
He keenly captured it. Behind the thick marble Roman column twenty meters behind Stan Edgar came an extremely faint, yet slightly rapid breathing of a woman due to nervousness.
"Hiss... puff..." The sound was very thin. But along with the breathing, there was also a slight "rustling" friction sound of fingernails digging into the marble.
Lin Yuan sneered in his heart. Victoria Neuman. This head-exploding woman was indeed hiding in the dark, like a venomous snake ready to take his life at any moment.
"It seems that the good show in this estate isn't just being performed by Stan Edgar alone."
Lin Yuan placed the empty wine glass on the table and wiped the wine stains from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well... Mr. Stan Edgar, I won't disturb your rest? I'll head back now?"
He continued to pretend to be a submissive coward, asking tentatively.
"Go. Remember what was said tonight." Stan Edgar didn't even lift his eyelids, waving his hand.
Lin Yuan nodded and bowed repeatedly, turning to walk toward the main door. His leather shoes made a dull sound on the marble floor.
"Victoria Neuman, you lackey, you're hiding pretty deep." The moment Lin Yuan walked out of the door, he muttered in the mental link.
"Boss, Great White Shark says that more than half of the bodyguards outside the estate have been withdrawn; they seem to have relaxed their vigilance!" Timothy bubbled excitedly in the headset.
"Relaxed their vigilance? That's because they think they've tightened the collar again." Lin Yuan walked down the steps of the estate, facing the sea breeze.
"Once I've absorbed all the serum at the bottom of the building, these people won't even have the chance to kneel."
"What about that kid Hughie? The warning message he sent just now was quite timely." Lin Yuan sat into the luxury van and asked casually.
"Boss, Assistant Hughie is currently hiding at home shivering!" Timothy's sonar system transmitted the latest movement. "He says there's someone knocking on the door outside, the sound is very loud, like they're smashing the door!"
"Smashing the door?" Lin Yuan leaned back on the leather seat, his brows furrowing slightly. "Go check who is knocking on that loser's door in the middle of the night. If they don't have eyes, just have the crabs cut their Achilles tendons."
Chapter 43: Hughie Goes Undercover at Vought, Lin Yuan's White-Collar Mole
That door that had been pounded on so loudly last night turned out to be a pizza delivery person who had gone to the wrong floor.
Hughie leaned against the door panel, gasping for air for a full five minutes before he could calm his heart, which had been threatening to jump out of his throat.
The next morning, New York remained a gloomy day, with a drizzling rain that was quite annoying.
Hughie was wearing a grey suit that was a bit too big for him.
This was bought with money swiped from Ezekiel's black card.
It was a brand name, alright, but the sleeves were a bit long, covering half the back of his hands; it really was something.
At this moment, he was clutching a thick, heavy stack of blue hard-covered folders.
Pretending to be organizing reports, he walked unsteadily into the Public Relations Department Director's office on the top floor of Vought Tower.
Ashley was not there today.
Rumor had it that because of the "Black Meteor" trending topic last night, she was currently getting scolded in Madelyn's office.
The office was quiet, with only the central air conditioning emitting a faint "humming" sound.
The air was filled with the pungent, cheap lavender perfume that Ashley often used.
It made one want to sneeze.
Hughie swallowed hard and gently placed the folders on that large white desk.
The sweat in his palms had already soaked a small part of the edge of the top document, making it sticky.
He looked back at the closed glass door with a guilty conscience.
The glass was frosted, and only a few shadows occasionally flickered in the hallway outside.
"Hughie, move faster. Don't dawdle like an old lady, seriously."
The miniature earpiece in his ear suddenly transmitted Lin Yuan's deep, husky, modulated voice.
It startled Hughie so much that his shoulders hunched up, and he nearly knocked over the pen holder on the desk.
"Mr... Mr. Deep. I'm looking. There are too many files on this desk, it's all a mess."
Hughie lowered his voice.
He hurriedly flipped through the pile of messy reports and official documents on the desk, the friction of the paper making a crisp "rustling" sound.
"That woman Ashley can't even file an email properly. She stuffs everything into a folder named 'Junk'."
"Then go look in that junk folder! Find Victoria Neuman's name! Don't stall!"
Lin Yuan snorted coldly on the other end of the line, his voice carrying an impatient, smoky tone.
"This head-popper is the vicious dog that old man Stan Edgar keeps in Congress."
"Every time she comes to the company, she definitely has expense and funding dealings with Ashley. Those bills are ironclad proof, alright."
Hughie's hands shook even more violently.
He had seen Congresswoman Victoria Neuman on TV with his own eyes.
She spoke so eloquently, looking like a fighter for justice.
Who would have thought that in private, she was actually a secret operative kept by Vought in Congress, and a supe monster capable of blowing people's heads off?
At the thought of this, Hughie felt his scalp tingle, and cold sweat streamed down his neck.
It soaked the back of his expensive white shirt, sticking to his skin, which was very uncomfortable.
But in his mind, Robin's face, tear-stained and sleeping soundly in the safe house, suddenly flashed before him.
And A-Train's legs, broken into a V-shape and covered in blood and gore.
In this man-eating Vought Tower.
If it weren't for the devil, The Deep, protecting him, he and Robin wouldn't even qualify to be cannon fodder.
"For Robin... I'm going for it!"
Hughie gritted his back teeth, and the muscles in his cheeks bulged.
His gaze finally changed from cowardly to somewhat determined.
He plopped down into Ashley's large leather chair.
The chair's wheels slid on the floor, making a "creaking" sound.
He quickly dragged the mouse and opened the hidden folder named "Junk".
"Password... what was the password again?"
Hughie was so anxious that he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Try the name of her stupid dog, 'Lucy'."
Lin Yuan's voice sounded faintly in the earpiece.
Hughie hurriedly typed those letters on the keyboard. The keyboard made a crisp clattering sound.
"Click." The folder opened in response; who would have thought that this password would actually work!
Inside lay dozens of encrypted emails and PDF documents, packed densely.
Hughie's eyes scanned the filenames frantically like a scanner.
"Got it! Got it! Mr. Deep!"
Hughie's voice cracked with excitement as he opened a PDF file marked "Top Secret".
On the screen was a detailed statement of funds transfer issued by the Vought Finance Department.
It clearly recorded that over the past three years, Vought had secretly injected a full forty million dollars of black money into an account named "Victoria Neuman Campaign Office" through overseas shell companies.
At the very bottom, there was Stan Edgar's signature, written in his flamboyant electronic script.
"Found it! This is ironclad proof of Stan Edgar paying her! And there are also access records of her coming to Vought's underground lab to get the compound!"
Hughie was so excited that his hands were shaking.
He hurriedly fished out the miniature camera, which was only the size of a lighter, from his suit's inner pocket.
"Click." "Click." He took several photos of the screen in succession.
The flash lit up with a faint white light in the dim office.
"Well done, Hughie. Save these things; this is the noose around Victoria Neuman's neck, alright."
Lin Yuan spat with satisfaction on the other end of the line.
"With this, that head-popper will have to obediently become my puppet, right?"
Hughie let out a long breath, feeling as if the heart that had been hanging in his throat had finally settled back into his stomach.
He had just stuffed the camera back into his pocket. The sweat in his palms hadn't even been wiped away yet.
"Bang." The heavy frosted glass door behind him was pushed open from the outside without warning, the doorknob hitting the wall with a dull thud.
Hughie shuddered in fright, and the mouse in his hand slid directly under the desk.
Like a duck with a spring inside, he bolted up from the leather chair. A layer of cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Who... who is it!"
He stuttered a shout, his hands tightly clasped behind his back.
The light at the doorway was a bit blinding. A girl in casual clothes, holding two cups of hot coffee, was standing there.
Her golden curly hair looked a bit frizzy under the lights. She wasn't wearing heavy makeup, looked a bit tired, and had faint dark circles under her eyes.
It was Starlight, Annie.
Annie clearly hadn't expected anyone to be in the office. Her hand holding the coffee trembled slightly, and a few drops of hot coffee spilled out.
They dripped onto the back of her hand, making her hiss in pain.
"S-sorry, I thought Ashley was here."
Annie spoke somewhat awkwardly, her voice a bit dry. She switched the coffee cups to her other hand and rubbed the spot on the back of her hand that had been scalded red.
"I... I just came to the Public Relations Department, wanting to ask about that PR contract from yesterday..."
Hughie was stunned. He looked at the superhero before him, whom he had seen countless times on street posters.
Without the spandex, she looked just like an ordinary girl next door. Even her eyes revealed a kind of innocence and confusion that didn't belong in Vought Tower.
The two made eye contact for a fleeting moment. In the air, only the "whooshing" sound of the air conditioning vent could be heard.
Hughie swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.
A scene suddenly flashed through his mind. That night on the street. The freak in the green spandex seemed to have some inexplicable connection to this girl named Starlight.
And Annie was also curiously sizing up this young boy in an ill-fitting suit, covered in sweat.
She felt that this boy's eyes were completely different from those slick, oily PR staff in the building. They revealed a kind of clear, innocent stupidity—truly something.
The threads of fate, at this moment, due to the forced intervention of Lin Yuan's invisible hands, forcibly re-interwove these two people whose original trajectories were completely different.
Chapter 44: Starlight and Hughie's Reunion, Destinies Intertwined
The air in the office was like solidified glue.
It was so quiet that one could hear the hum of the central air conditioning blowing out cold air.
Hughie froze there.
With his hands behind his back, the cold metal casing of the micro-camera pressed hard against his spine.
Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes, stinging them painfully, but he didn't even dare to blink.
Starlight Annie stood by the door, holding two cups of steaming coffee.
Her clear eyes were fixed on him, filled with confusion.
She wasn't wearing her flashy white and gold costume today.
She just had on a simple beige knit sweater, looking like a girl-next-door who had just woken up.
"You... I feel like I've seen you somewhere before, don't I?"
Annie took a step forward.
The bottom of the coffee cup clinked against the saucer with a soft "ding" sound.
"The night before last, in front of that electronics store on the street corner."
She tilted her head slightly.
"You were with Senior The Deep at the time, that monster whose collision shattered the street lamp post..."
When Hughie heard the words "The Deep," his heart gave a violent jolt.
His stomach churned, and he almost threw up the cheap pizza he'd eaten last night.
"No... no, no, no!"
He waved his hands hurriedly, his voice cracking like a broken erhu from nerves.
"You've got the wrong person! I'm just an intern filing clerk who just reported to the Public Relations Department, alright!"
He stammered as he explained, inching toward the table while he spoke.
He tried to use his body to block the unclosed encrypted folder on the computer screen.
Seeing his guilty, sweaty, and hapless appearance, Annie couldn't help but let out a "pfft" of laughter.
With that laugh, the fatigue at the corners of her eyes seemed to dissipate a little.
"Alright, don't be nervous."
She set the coffee down on a small round table nearby.
"Is Ashley not here? I need to see her about something."
"She... she went to a meeting with Ms. Madelyn. She'll probably be a while, really."
Hughie swallowed hard, forcing his racing heart to calm down.
Looking at Annie's face without heavy makeup, a strange feeling suddenly welled up in his heart.
How could this superhero, who was worshipped by the whole country, look even more tired than he did?
Annie sighed, leaned back on the sofa, and rubbed her sore temples.
"A meeting? Probably just discussing how to make up lies in front of the cameras, right?"
Her voice was very low, as if she were talking to herself.
Yet it fell clearly into Hughie's ears.
Hughie was stunned.
He hadn't expected a Vought superhero to say such seditious things in front of a low-level employee.
"You... you don't like it either when they make you lie?"
Hughie asked, emboldened, the sweat on his palms drying a little.
Annie looked up at him.
There was no arrogance in her gaze, only deep helplessness and confusion.
"Like it?"
She gave a bitter smile.
"Ever since I was little, I dreamed of being a hero who saves the world."
"But after coming here, I realized that a real hero doesn't need this skin, really."
She picked at the cuff of her knit sweater with her fingers, plucking off a small white fuzz ball.
"They only care about ratings, and whether that skimpy costume can sell more merchandise, alright."
Listening to her words, a chord in Hughie's heart was suddenly struck.
He thought of Robin.
He remembered that night on the street, the truth that Vought had ruthlessly covered up.
"They are just a bunch of money-grubbing vampires."
Hughie gritted his teeth, his voice low but filled with gnashing hatred.
"They treat us mortals like ants on the ground, crushing us with a single step without even needing to apologize."
He thought of A-Train's arrogant face and clenched his fists tightly.
Annie looked in surprise at this boy who usually seemed so timid.
She hadn't expected that in this golden building full of lies, she would hear a mortal sharing her same anger.
"Senior The Deep was right."
Annie lowered her head, looking at the milk foam floating in the coffee cup.
"This place isn't as clean as I thought. You can't fully trust anyone, really."
"The Deep?"
When Hughie heard this name, his eyelids twitched violently.
In his mind, Lin Yuan's cold, arrogant face, looking as if he were staring at a dead person, flashed before him.
That monster was actually a good person in Starlight's heart?
Hughie opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
"Crash."
Because of his panic, his elbow accidentally hit a stack of files on the corner of the table.
The files scattered all over the floor, the white papers fluttering like snowflakes onto the wooden floorboards.
"Ouch, bad luck."
Hughie quickly squatted down, scrambling to pick up the files on the ground.
Annie also crouched down to help him organize the scattered papers.
"It's okay, let me help you, alright."
She stacked a few files and handed them to Hughie.
Their hands brushed against each other in mid-air.
Annie's hand was warm, while Hughie's was cold and sweaty.
Hughie pulled his hand back as if electrocuted, his face flushing red to the roots of his neck.
"Th-thank you."
He stammered, not even daring to lift his head.
Seeing his innocent appearance, the corners of Annie's mouth curved up again.
Although this boy was clumsy, compared to those greasy PR managers in the building, he had a rare cleanliness and authenticity about him, right?
Amidst the files scattered on the floor, the two of them inexplicably developed a strange sense of resonance.
It was like two people lost in the dark, accidentally encountering the same faint light.
Meanwhile.
In the shadows at the corner of the Public Relations Department hall.
Lin Yuan, wearing a well-tailored black suit, leaned against the wall.
He had an unlit cigar in his mouth, watching this somewhat heartwarming scene in the office coldly.
"Boss, you're quite the matchmaker, really."
Timothy's sticky, wet voice sounded in the micro-earpiece, filled with schadenfreude.
"These two can actually chat together; even Great White Shark finds it incredible!"
"You don't know jack."
Lin Yuan took the cigar out of his mouth and toyed with it in his hand.
"This is called shared misfortune. The more they feel this building is filthy, the more they will huddle together for warmth, alright."
"I just want them to feel that only by following me can they survive in this place that eats people."
A trace of an extremely cold, even bloodthirsty, smile curled at the corners of Lin Yuan's mouth.
He was playing this hand of cards too smoothly.
The main characters from the original story had now completely become his perfect smokescreen and informants inside Vought.
They thought they were searching for the truth, but they didn't know they were walking step by step into the deeper abyss he had woven, right?
"Alright, I've seen enough of the show."
Lin Yuan straightened up and put the cigar into his pocket.
He brushed the dust off his suit.
In the office.
Hughie had already picked up all the files.
He hid the micro-camera deep in his inner pocket and said goodbye to Annie.
"I... I have to go deliver these files, Ms. Annie, goodbye."
Like a guilty thief, he clutched the files and hurried out of the office.
Annie watched his retreating figure and shook her head with a smile.
She picked up the coffee that had already gone cold on the table, preparing to turn and leave.
"Having a nice chat, Annie?"
A low, emotionless voice rang out behind her without warning.
Annie was startled, and the coffee cup in her hand almost dropped to the floor.
She turned around abruptly.
Lin Yuan had appeared less than a meter behind her before she knew it.
He was like a weightless ghost, without even a sound of footsteps.
His deep black eyes stared fixedly at her, and the oppressive feeling instantly descended like a mountain.
"Senior... The Deep."
Annie stammered, her previously relaxed nerves instantly tensing up again.
"I... I just came to find Ashley and happened to run into that new filing clerk..."
"No need to explain. I don't care what you talk to mortals about, really."
Lin Yuan interrupted her indifferently and reached out to take the cold cup of coffee from her hand.
He glanced at the foam in the cup with disgust and tossed it directly into the trash can nearby.
"Bang."
"Go wash your face and put on your costume, Annie."
Lin Yuan looked at her, his tone cold and unquestionable.
"At two o'clock this afternoon, go to the third conference room on the top floor, alright."
"There's a top-secret meeting regarding The Seven, and that old hag Madelyn is about to go crazy."
Annie was stunned.
"A top-secret meeting? Do I have to go too? I'm just a newbie..."
"You're the face of my side now. If you don't go, how am I supposed to shut those old shareholders up, right?"
Lin Yuan reached out and patted Annie's somewhat stiff shoulders heavily twice.
The force was a bit heavy, making Annie's bones ache faintly.
"Straighten your back. Later at the meeting, only speak when I tell you to, understand?"
Annie took a deep breath, suppressing the panic in her heart.
"I understand, Senior. I'll do as you say."
"Alright, go prepare. The show is about to begin, really."
Lin Yuan didn't look at her again and turned to walk toward the elevator.
Leaving Annie with a tall, cold, yet strangely reassuring silhouette.
Chapter 45: Queen Maeve's Breakdown, Homelander's Torture
2:00 PM.
The two heavy, copper-rimmed doors of Top Secret Conference Room No. 3 were locked tight from the inside with a definitive "click."
Not a sliver of light from the hallway could penetrate inside.
The air conditioning in the conference room was set as cold as an ice cellar.
The chilly air blasting from the vents made one's very bones ache.
Queen Maeve sat slumped in the corner of the long conference table like a pile of mud.
Her once dashing dark red battle suit was now wrinkled and stained with patches of uncleaned vomit.
Her complexion was as pale as a sheet of rice paper pulled fresh from water.
She gripped a glass vodka bottle in her hand, only half a bottle left.
The veins on the back of her hand bulged one by one.
Her knuckles were deathly pale from overexertion.
"Gulp..."
She tilted her head back and poured the last of the spicy, strong liquor, along with the ice cubes, down her throat.
The liquid ran down the corner of her mouth, dripping onto her red breastplate and leaving a watery trail.
Her eyes were swollen like two walnuts, filled with bloodshot veins.
Clearly, she hadn't slept much last night, having spent the time battling that damned insomnia and fear.
Beside her, that once expensive leather executive chair was now a horrific sight.
The solid steel backrest had been brutally twisted into a pretzel by brute force.
The black leather cushion was ripped to shreds, exposing the yellow foam debris inside.
That was the masterpiece Homelander had created when he first entered, venting his manic rage.
"Look at you, looking like a corpse, Maeve."
Homelander John stood at the other end of the long table.
The blue Stars and Stripes cape on his back fluttered slightly in the air conditioning.
He leaned forward, hands pressed against the tabletop.
His azure blue eyes were densely covered in bloodshot veins, his gaze like a mad dog ready to snap someone's neck at any moment.
"Did you watch the video online? Huh?"
John slammed the table hard.
"Bang!"
The solid wood table let out a loud bang, causing the crystal glasses on it to clatter.
"There's some piece of trash, faster than that cripple Reggie! And he's flying in the sky!"
He gritted his back teeth, the muscles on his cheeks twitching violently.
"And you!"
John suddenly extended a finger in a red glove, pointing fiercely at Maeve in the corner.
"Don't think I don't know who you're contacting in private."
Maeve's body shuddered violently.
She nearly lost her grip on the empty bottle, which almost fell to the floor.
"I didn't... John, I swear I didn't..."
Her voice was hoarse, carrying a hint of weeping she couldn't hide.
"No? Then why has your lovely girlfriend Elena suddenly decided to move?"
John pulled his lips into an extremely cruel sneer.
"The security system at that new apartment in Long Island is not bad."
"Too bad, I 'dropped by' to see her last night. She was sleeping so soundly."
As soon as these words came out, a "boom" went off in Maeve's head, as if a thunderclap had exploded right there.
She stood up abruptly from the chair, her eyes wide open.
"Don't you touch her! John! I beg you! This has nothing to do with her!"
She roared out of control, tears finally bursting from her eyes, carving two tracks down her dirty face.
"Shh—don't be so loud."
John raised his index finger to his lips, making a shushing gesture.
He slowly walked around the long table, approaching Maeve step by step.
His leather boots made a dull "thud" on the thick carpet.
"As long as you behave and follow Ashley's script in front of the media tomorrow."
"Admit that you were drunk last night, flying around in the sky, and caused that damned sonic boom cloud."
John walked up to Maeve.
They were close enough that she could smell that perverted, milky stench on him.
"If tomorrow's news isn't what I want."
John lowered his head, leaning into Maeve's ear, his voice as soft as if he were whispering sweet nothings.
"I guarantee you'll find Elena's bones, piece by piece, in your bed."
Maeve completely broke down.
The last bit of persistence in her mental defenses was shattered by these words.
Her legs went weak, and with a "thud," she slumped back onto the chair.
She covered her face with her hands, desperate sobs leaking through her fingers, repressed and miserable.
In front of this tyrant, the Amazonian warrior strength she was so proud of was nothing but a joke.
Across the long table, Lin Yuan sat quietly in a swivel chair.
He wore a crisp grey suit with a subtle pattern, without a single wrinkle.
He was toying with a black fountain pen, spinning it nonchalantly.
The pen cap made a slight "clack, clack" sound as it hit the tabletop.
He watched all of this with cold eyes, taking in Maeve's despair and pain.
This woman had long been tortured into a shell of a human.
But precisely because of that, she was the most useful blade.
A sharp blade filled with deep-seated hatred for Vought and Homelander.
Starlight Annie sat next to Lin Yuan.
She wore that slightly tight platinum battle suit, her hands tightly wrung together.
She looked at Maeve's miserable state, then at the arrogant Homelander.
Terrified, her face pale, she didn't dare to breathe out loud.
She subconsciously leaned closer to Lin Yuan, seeking a sense of security.
"Alright, have you cried enough!"
John seemed annoyed by Maeve's crying.
He suddenly raised his hand, gesturing to slap Maeve across her tear-stained face.
If that slap had landed, half of Maeve's jaw would have been shattered.
Just at this critical moment, Lin Yuan stopped spinning his pen.
He didn't even lift his eyelids, just lightly tapped his left toe on the carpet under the table.
"Hum—"
An invisible yet incredibly massive Vitruvian Gravity Fieldinstantly erupted silently from him as the center, skimming along the floor.
The Gravity Field was like an invisible giant hand, cutting precisely into the gap of air between Homelander and Maeve.
John's slap, whistling with wind, was about to hit Maeve's face.
Suddenly, he felt his wrist crash into a mass of extremely sticky glue.
Not only did his speed drop sharply, but his entire arm was also being held fast by a terrifying downward pull.
"Hmm?"
John's expression changed.
He subconsciously tried to pull his hand back, but found he couldn't move it at all.
That force was invisible and intangible, yet as heavy as a solid iron mountain.
It completely neutralized the oppressive feeling he had been exerting on Maeve.
He looked around in shock and suspicion.
Why did this damn oppressive feeling feel exactly the same as what that loser The Deep gave him on the rooftop that day!
But when he turned to look, The Deep was looking down, pretending to be a coward who hadn't seen anything, focusing on picking at the label on a pen cap.
And Starlight next to him was so scared she was almost shrinking under the table.
"Fuck!"
John cursed irritably.
He thought he was too stressed lately and having hallucinations.
He violently threw his hand away, retracting the slap.
"Tomorrow morning, do as I say! Otherwise, suffer the consequences!"
He threw a vicious threat at Maeve.
He turned around, his red cape swirling, and strode toward the conference room door.
"Click."
The door lock was violently twisted open, and John walked out without looking back.
The door slammed shut behind him with a "bang," and the lights in the hallway flickered and vanished.
The conference room returned to dead silence.
Only the whirring of the central air conditioning and Maeve's suppressed sobbing remained.
Annie let out a sigh of relief, feeling her back soaked with cold sweat.
She looked at Maeve with concern, wanting to go up and comfort her, but was gently pressed on the back of her hand by Lin Yuan under the table.
Lin Yuan gave her a look, his gaze calm, without a ripple.
Annie understood, bit her lip, hugged her files, and walked out of the conference room silently, even gently closing the door behind her.
Now, only Lin Yuan and Maeve, who was slumped in the chair, remained in the room.
Lin Yuan stood up, his leather shoes clicking on the carpet as he walked toward the corner step by step.
Maeve was still covering her face and crying, tears flowing down through her fingers, snot smeared on the back of her hand, messy and unsightly.
Hearing footsteps, she thought John had returned.
She shuddered in fear, quickly lowered her hands, and shrank deep into the chair in terror.
Lin Yuan walked up to her and stopped, looking down at this once-proud Amazonian warrior.
He took a clean white silk handkerchief from the inside pocket of his suit and handed it over.
Maeve was stunned for a moment, staring blankly at the handkerchief.
She didn't take it, just stared at Lin Yuan with the wary gaze one gives a stranger.
"You... what do you want? You're here to watch me make a fool of myself too?"
Her voice was as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing together.
Lin Yuan ignored her sarcasm and casually tossed the handkerchief onto the tabletop in front of Maeve.
"Wipe your snot, it's truly pathetic."
He leaned down, hands pressed on the tabletop, and leaned closer to Maeve.
A faint scent of mint mixed with the man's steady aura, dispelling the unpleasant stench of alcohol around them.
"Do you want to completely get rid of this giant baby's torture?"
Lin Yuan lowered his voice.
The voice was audible only to the two of them, yet it felt like a thunderclap exploding in Maeve's head.
Maeve suddenly raised her head, her bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at Lin Yuan's eyes, which were as deep as black holes.
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