"I know I've dropped a lot lately, but it's my exams — one week to go. After that, the normal daily updates will be back."
Homelander approached the window after finishing up, opening it wide.
"Clean yourself up. I'm sure you can handle it."
"Don't give me that look. You don't expect me to wipe you clean, do you?"
Stormfront, lying on the hospital bed, could now barely produce sound—extremely hoarse, yet vaguely intelligible upon close listening: "As a real man, you should've just thrown yourself onto me."
"My dear, you're really wasting this opportunity." She slipped her hand beneath the sheets.
Her intentions were simple—she wished to use Homelander's superior genetics to create an 'Aryan' version of Homelander himself. Especially after seeing Ryan, she became even more determined in her belief. Homelander's genetic makeup was undeniably exceptional; even when combined with ordinary humans, it produced such perfect superhumans.
Imagine combining it with hers—it would surely birth an elite race surpassing the Aryan standard.
"Sorry, not interested right now," Homelander shrugged. He grabbed a bottle of mineral water, took a few sips, then complained, "These recent troubles have been giving me headaches. Billy's like a sewer rat—you lift the manhole cover, see his tail for a second, then he vanishes again.
Still, compared to him, I'm more curious about the guy who attacked you that night. He might still be alive, hiding somewhere licking his wounds."
"He... he was Asian, and had a very special ability—I think he possessed at least four different powers."
Stormfront, having stuffed something into herself, used her remaining right hand to push off the bed frame and leaned against the headboard. She glanced sideways at the IV bag of Compound V beside her before painfully removing the needle and reinserting it into her neck.
"You sure you want to do this? Vogelbaum said your body has reached its limit. Overdosing on Compound V won't help your condition."
"I know my limits better than anyone." As the blue liquid flowed into her system, only slight pain showed on her face—just a brief furrowing of her brow, though technically she no longer had eyebrows.
"Fine."
Homelander didn't mind Stormfront using Compound V to recover quickly, much like Trainwreck did. However, such methods often left side effects—like heart damage, for example. Perhaps Stormfront would become like Trainwreck—forever dependent on Compound V.
"Invisible tentacles, a chest capable of emitting blue lasers, flight via controlled air currents, and arms transforming into bird-like wings radiating extreme heat." Stormfront's voice gradually steadied from initial tremors, her eyes burning with murderous intent toward that person. If he hadn't appeared suddenly, she wouldn't have sustained such severe injuries!
"Sounds like a fictional Hollywood character. Those guys love stuffing weird villains into their movies—octopus-legged freaks, glowing red skeletons, and so on. But usually, these creeps end up dying at the hands of heroes like me. After all, everyone loves seeing good triumph over evil."
Homelander spoke carelessly.
In his view, someone who couldn't even withstand his laser attacks was practically powerless.
"Baby, I think you should take this seriously. His strength isn't weak—at least..."
Before Stormfront could finish speaking, Homelander cut her off.
"You sound like a scared little girl. Think about it—he only showed up when you were already injured. That says enough."
Stormfront closed her mouth without another word.
At that moment, rhythmic knocking echoed from outside the door. Bang! Bang-bang!!
"Come in."
Homelander casually tossed the half-finished water bottle into the nearby trash bin. "Nice weather today."
Xia Shang entered the ward wearing a light beige suit, holding the latest edition of the New York Daily News.
"Good afternoon, Homelander and Ms. Stormfront."
"I suppose Mr. Jervis, as Vice President of Vought Corporation, wouldn't visit out of mere goodwill," Stormfront already held disdain toward Jervis, which worsened significantly after the attack incident.
However, Xia Shang ignored her attitude and handed over the newspaper. "Regarding the public opinion involving you and Homelander, it's already made the headlines. Several days ago, there was a black protester at the event—the one causing trouble. Do you remember him? His name is Patch, living in the West Philadelphia slums."
"He's dead?" Homelander slightly frowned.
"Exactly. Cause of death: cardiogenic shock due to suffocation. Despite the hospital's best efforts, bone fragments from his severely damaged neck pierced blood vessels, leading to unsuccessful resuscitation." Xia Shang spoke in a flat tone, as if discussing something utterly trivial.
"Just another dead black guy—nothing important. Don't tell me you can't even handle something like this."
"At first, everything went smoothly. We sent our lawyers to negotiate with his family, offering $100,000 for silence. Though initially unsatisfied with the amount, our lawyer explained that since Patch deliberately disrupted the event trying to incite riots, even if killed, Homelander would likely only be charged with negligent homicide—if any criminal liability at all.
Eventually, they agreed to settle privately. But yesterday, Patch's family filed a lawsuit with the court and exposed everything to the media. The story immediately caused widespread uproar. Recently, racial discrimination topics have grown increasingly sensitive. Now, Patch's case has become the spark igniting massive spontaneous demonstrations by the black community, chanting slogans like 'We Still Can't Breathe.'"
This incident brought Xia Shang over 500 Fantasy Points, making him realize Stormfront still possessed considerable exploitable value. Killing her directly would yield at most around a thousand points, but her ability to stir chaos could generate far more Fantasy Points—clearly showing where priorities lay.
[Fantasy Points: 2520 (acquired from: Stormfront…730, Deep One…1220, Ryan…210...)]
Originally approaching three thousand points, his recent journey through Demon Slayer consumed a thousand, leaving him still far from his ten-thousand-point goal.
"Was it Billy again?" Homelander felt Billy and his group resembled annoying flies—one wave of your hand, they fly away, but once you stop, they buzz back around your face. Extremely irritating.
Unexpectedly, Xia Shang shook his head.
"Not them this time. Probably another group. Who exactly, remains unknown for now."
End of Chapter