Chapter 29

[Homelander POV]

I look around at the people in the hall and sigh quietly. There is silence as everyone waits for me to speak.

The light from the lights illuminates my figure. I am dressed in a blue superhero suit and have a relatively uncomfortable cape draped behind me.

My face shows regret as I occasionally glance at the glass casket where the body of the "Translucent" supposedly lies.

The real body, or rather the remains, is currently on the sixty-seventh floor in the laboratory.

Vought was not about to forgo potential discoveries that the corpse of a superhero might yield.

I tried not to reveal my true emotions, but my face was slightly twisted in disgust.

However, the live show had already begun, and the cameras had been rolling for some time.

"I want to inform the American people that Black Noir carried out a special operation and neutralized the supervillain known as Naqib."

I finally say, raising my head.

The audience in the hall began to clap but stopped when I raised my hand for silence.

"Unfortunately, this does not mean there will be no more victims. The evidence is right in front of us, sad as it is. Today, we mourn the fallen member of The Seven—The Translucent."

I slowly scan the faces of the people at this performance while observing their emotions.

The son of Translucent is among those who sincerely grieve, and some came only to see me and the rest of the team.

Well, what can I say?

This is because the customer paid a lot of money for the ticket.

They paid quite a bit of money to attend this absurd show which was absurdly mistaken for a memorial.

The only people who were able to escape this were the deceased's family members.

"The Translucent was brutally killed by the supervillain of the cartel known as El Diablo. Translucent spoke to me before he died and said, "Homelander, if something happens, tell my son Maverick that I love him." And he added that I should find these supervillains and stop them!"

I said while observing the audience's reaction as he approached the casket.

"And I promise you, Maverick, and all the sons and daughters of our great nation, that I will stop them. For you, for America..."

I touched the casket with my hand with a look of sorrow on my face.

"And for a dear, old friend. Farewell, my brother, and thank you."

I hung my head and closed my eyes, waiting for the stage lights to dim and the music to start.

After that, I left the stage while drawing attention to Starlight who began singing a soulful song that was sure to touch the audience.

This was helped by her beautiful voice which she had honed in singing contests since she was a child.

Annie later told me that her mother had taken her to many places.

The song would be heavily promoted to ensure it would be featured on every radio station.

Madelyn hopes for a "Grammy" which she wants to use to cement her success.

After the performance, Annie and I went to the ordinary people who had gathered behind the barrier, waiting for Homelander and Starlight.

They didn't have enough money to get inside.

I approached them with a smile, signing autographs for a few lucky fans, and even hugged a tearful Translucent fan.

There were cameras around the whole time, and I was showing my acting skills. There is no such thing as luck; everything is planned and paid for ahead of time.

Vought is planning to take full advantage of the surge in merchandise sales and make a substantial profit.

The forecasts are extremely high.

After finishing with the fans, Starlight and I took each other's hands and approached David, the reporter.

He was the only reporter at the event, as it was decided upstairs that this would be best.

David worked for Vought News, so it was only natural that nothing frivolous or embarrassing would appear on TV.

"Homelander, Starlight."

David nodded and brought the microphone to us.

"How are things holding up in the tower?"

"I won't lie, it's really tough for us."

"But here he is."

Starlight joined the conversation.

"He gathered us and said we are more than just a team. We are one family and need to stick together."

"Thanks for the warm words, Starlight."

"Thank you. I don't even know what we would have done without you."

She replied, just as we had rehearsed.

"Isn't she a sweetheart?"

I asked him, putting my arm around her waist.

Then, there were questions about various topics and praise for Annie's song.

There were also questions about the whereabouts of A-Train, who hadn't appeared in public for two weeks.

Fortunately, Reggie's health was improving.

He had even started training and running.

He would soon be pulling entire trains like he did a few years ago. I was confident in his success at getting back into shape.

After the interview, we headed to the car, which took us to the Vought Tower.

Starlight bid me goodbye to rest, and I went to Madelyn.

All those rehearsals, the way everything was arranged, and the cosmetic changes to the text took a lot of time.

It began in the late afternoon and finished at ten o'clock in the morning, or right now.

I can go almost a week without sleep without much trouble, but Annie is much less resilient in that regard.

"Good morning. You look wonderful today, Madelyn."

I said to her, standing right in front of me as the elevator doors opened.

"Good morning, Homelander."

She replied with a smile, stepping into the cabin and pressing one of the buttons.

"We need to go down."

"Why?"

I ask her, recalling that she had frequently sought Homelander's opinion before... and not just his.

I suspect this is one of those moments when I'm being gently nudged to contribute my part to the collective effort.

It's very much in Stillwell's style.

"We are deciding how to market our collaboration with the U.S. military. A focus group will assist us. I think you'll find it interesting."

"I see."

I reply with little enthusiasm, and she clearly notices but doesn't comment.

The elevator stops at the required floor, and we exit the cabin.

After less than a minute, we walk down the hall and into a room with glass walls that let us see and hear what's happening in the room next door.

There are men and women aged roughly between thirty and forty inside.

An employee from the company is in front of them, and their job is to present them with various words and slogans and ask them how they feel about them.

"So, how about this slogan?"

She points to "superterrorist" on the board.

"Terrible."

One of the women responded, raising her hand.

"Why?"

"It's very frightening, and it makes me want to hide. It causes me anxiety."

"I see, and 'supervillain'?"

"That sounds more optimistic. It's more exotic."

The woman nods.

"Just as I predicted."

Madelyn smiled and turned to me.

"And you didn't agree with me."

"Still, the term "super-terrorist" sounds more official and not as silly."

I counter her.

"We're not in a damn comic book to call criminals villains. It's like a child's playground."

"Have you forgotten which audience we're targeting, John?"

Madelyn responds gently, remembering my name.

"Teenagers don't like to face reality; they prefer something light and inconspicuous. They don't want to think about the reality you're proposing."

"Fine."

I sigh, not understanding why I'm even here if my opinion isn't going to be considered.

"But I don't see any teenagers among them."

"Because these are the ones who will be giving money to those teenagers for movies and various merchandise."

Madelyn smirks.

"Now, let's move on to the posters."

The woman points to two prepared posters.

"Which do you prefer? "Save America"?"

It looks like the people in the focus group didn't like this poster very much because no one raised their hands.

Too patriotic?

"I see. And what about... "Save the World"?"

The woman is surprised to see everyone raising their hands.

"Interesting, from whom?"

"From the supervillains."

Madelyn confidently responds to my words.

"The Seven will save the World from them!"

"As you say. Just so you know, as far as I'm aware, there are only six of us in the team right now."

I remind her of the current circumstances.

"I remember that Homelander."

Madelyn nodded, sighing softly.

"And the problem is almost resolved."

"Really? And where's the list of candidates?"

I'm surprised by what she's said.

"This time, there won't be a list of contenders."

She replies, adding for emphasis.

"That's what Stan Edgar wanted."

"Oh, since Stan Edgar wanted it, should I also bring him Frisbee like a dumb little dog?"

I look at her irritably.

"Don't exaggerate. If you're not satisfied with the candidate, I'll provide you with a list of other candidates."

She decides to find a compromise in this situation.

"But I assure you, you'll like her."

"So it's a superheroine?"

I'm intrigued by her words.

This is getting interesting.

"That's right. She's very strong, and she can fly."

She lists the advantages of the potential new recruit.

"So, are you in?"

"I'm in, but I'll take a look at her. When can I see her?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"Understood. Well, I won't keep you."

"We're almost done."

Madelyn smiles.

"Make sure to rest up before tomorrow's shoot; I'll send you the script."

"Definitely."

I force a smile at her.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

I sigh with relief as I leave the room and head to the elevator.

Those ten minutes tired me more than ten hours of work on the memorial for Translucent.

This definitely isn't my thing.

I wonder what Rebecca has prepared for lunch?

It's better to find out personally.

I smile at my thoughts, anticipating a hearty and delicious homemade meal.

It's better to hurry before I start drooling from anticipation.

...

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