◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews.
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones. or 500 Collections
◇ You can read 40 chapter ahead on P@treon . if you're interested: patreon.com/Heroicverse
------------------------------------------------
Besides that, the other thing causing a public uproar was: what exactly was the serum the Avengers and Vought's heroes had injected when facing those powerful alien warriors?
Vought told the media outright that the answer lay inside "Vought Super Energy Drink".
Rumors flooded in; some even claimed the so-called twenty-minute version was only a degraded formula.
"Show your talent and get a golden ticket, and Vought will give you the real serum, turning you into an undisputed superhero!"
Since then, the air in every New York alley has carried a cloyingly sweet scent.
It's the smell of Vought Super Energy Drink.
"This is insane…"
On the Vought factory line, Dr. Connor watched the bottles of blue liquid roll past and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"We've diluted the T-VEX stock a hundred-thousand-fold! A hundred-thousand!" Dr. Connor said to Ashley beside him. "At this concentration it's weaker than Red Bull—it's just sugar water! You might as well sell syrup!"
"But they're buying it, Doctor, and we're an honest company—the ingredient list has to list T-VEX stock."
Ashley's eyes turned to dollar signs as she stared at the sales report.
"Look: last week's sales beat Coca-Cola's entire previous quarter."
On-screen, news showed the buying frenzy breaking out everywhere.
In supermarkets people came to blows over a crate of Vought drink; in sewers blue liquid was dumped just to get the golden ticket inside the bottle.
"Golden ticket!"
"I want a golden ticket! I want to go to Vought Tower! I want to be Superman—even if only for twenty minutes!"
A scruffy middle-aged man shouted at the camera in tears.
Vought's marketing was simple and brutal; with sales this crazy, one ticket per million bottles had become too generous.
So among a billion bottles, Vought hid only five "golden tickets".
This Thanksgiving, the five lucky ticket-holders will be invited to tour Vought Headquarters and receive an authentic shot of T-VEX.
It's twenty minutes of godlike power—a chance for mortals to touch heaven.
A temptation strong enough to shatter many people's sanity.
"We're selling hope, Doctor."
Anthony appeared above the conveyor, gazing at the busy robot arms.
"The World's too dull; everyone wants to be the lead, even for a second."
He plucked a freshly bottled drink, twisted the cap, and took a swig.
"Mm… too sweet." He frowned. "Next batch, less sugar, more caffeine—get them even more pumped."
"Yes, sir."
…Washington, D.C.
The fireplace in the Oval Office roared; the atmosphere was cozy.
President Matthew Ellis personally poured Anthony a cup of black tea—an honor rarely bestowed in White House history.
Anthony sat on the sofa, cradling the President's prized tea, as relaxed as if he were home.
"Anthony, do you know? My approval rating is thirty points higher than that fool Thomas!" Ellis tapped the report, grinning ear to ear. "Voters loved your 'Last Line of Defense' footage; they think my administration's the toughest ever."
The door opened; Ashley hurried in with an encrypted satellite phone, looking flustered.
"Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen." Ashley glanced at the President, then turned to Anthony.
"Mr. Starr, it's General Ross."
"What do they want?" Anthony asked, already knowing.
"They've sent a purchase proposal." Ashley's voice wasn't loud, yet it rang clear in the quiet office.
"The Military wants five hundred doses of T-VEX to form a special unit. They'll pay top dollar and even give Vought regulatory green lights."
President Ellis's face changed.
If the Military bypassed him and struck a deal with Vought, what cards would he still hold? He needed that force to secure his own position—not to let the hawks run wild with it.
Anthony glanced at Ellis, a faint, almost invisible smile tugging at his lips.
Without taking the handset, he reached out and pressed the speaker button.
"This is Homelander."
General Ross's gravelly voice came through: "Homelander! Thaddeus Ross here. We need to talk about that serum. I know you've got stock—don't pull scarcity marketing on me. The Military can give you any resource you want, as long as you—"
"General Ross."
Anthony cut in, calm and steady.
"I think you've misunderstood."
"T-VEX has no inventory."
"What?!" Ross's voice jumped an octave. "Are you joking? We saw on TV—"
"That was the final batch." Anthony looked at President Ellis and spoke slowly. "Given T-VEX's uniqueness and strategic value, Vought has decided…"
"All T-VEX output is now classified top-secret."
"We will not sell to the Military, nor release it to the public market."
Ross fell silent for a moment, then roared: "You're hoarding it?! Starr, this is a national-security asset! I have the authority to requisition—"
"We have only one buyer."
Anthony interrupted once more.
"Vought Labs can produce merely ten doses a month, and the entire quota has been transferred to the White House."
"President Matthew Ellis has full discretion."
Ross was stunned.
So was President Ellis.
He jerked his head up, staring at Anthony—shock in his eyes turning to wild joy.
"So, General," Anthony said into the speaker, "if you want the serum, file your request to Mr. President. We'll ship only with his signature."
Beep—
Anthony hung up.
The office went silent for two seconds.
Then President Ellis burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! That old man Ross—his face must be crimson right now!"
Ellis looked at Anthony, gratitude and a thrill of power shining in his eyes.
Ten doses.
Not many, yet only he now held the key to manufacturing "super-soldiers".
The Military wants some? Beg me.
Congress wants some? Beg me.
Anthony had handed him a scepter.
"Anthony." Ellis stood, walked around the desk, and clasped Anthony's hand tightly. "You're not just a hero—you're a true patriot."
"I simply want to be sure this power rests in the right hands," Anthony replied, smiling. "Yours, Mr. President."
"Rest assured." Ellis returned the favor by laying his chips on the table at once.
"I've reviewed the Superhero Registration Act your people submitted."
The President walked back, lifted the thick dossier, and flipped straight to the last page.
"Some clauses are indeed bold—like granting Vought heroes 'qualified immunity'…"
Qualified immunity—the so-called license to kill—meant collateral damage, even fatalities inflicted by Vought heroes during missions, would be legally deemed "justified tactical conduct," immune from criminal prosecution.
"Congress will push back hard; it effectively authorizes Vought as a legally sanctioned violent organ." Ellis eyed Anthony.
"Resistance is meant to be broken," Anthony said mildly.
"Just like the Dark Elves' fleet."
"Well said."
Ellis picked up his pen and signed his name on the document.
"I'll invoke executive privilege to fast-track this bill."
Next week I'll address Capitol Hill, and I want you standing beside me when I do."
"My honor, Mr. President."