"Impossible!"
That hand remained steady and unmoved. The raging flames—capable of melting steel in seconds—were as harmless as warm water. Mark could hardly believe his eyes.
Russell, holding Mark by the neck, cast a disdainful glance at the man whose clothes had been entirely burned away.
Unwilling to carry around a naked, flaming man, Russell knocked him out with a squeeze of his hand and casually tossed him onto a nearby garbage heap.
"D-Don't come any closer!"
The blonde girl, Cate, had already taken off her gloves. Feigning fear, she backed away like a damsel in distress, playing the role of an easily frightened, helpless girl.
"Your acting is terrible."
Russell saw right through her. She was clearly waiting for him to get close so she could use her mind control powers through touch. But Russell had no interest in testing how well the Soldier Boy template resisted psychic manipulation. His figure flickered and disappeared.
"Where did he go?"
The alley appeared empty, but a cold chill crept up Cate's spine. A wave of unease surged through her. Stiffly turning her head, she saw a hand chop descend upon her.
Thud!
Cate's eyes rolled back, and her body slumped limply to the alley floor.
[Template "Cate Dunlap" acquired]
Target for this mission: complete.
Satisfied, Russell retracted his hand.
These three were Vought's Gen V spinoff characters—exceptional students at Godolkin University, a superhero academy under Vought's umbrella.
One could manipulate magnetism, but even piloting a helicopter strained him—a dollar-store version of Magneto at best.
Another, nicknamed "Golden Boy," possessed a powerful physique and pyrokinesis. His instructors claimed he could potentially succeed Homelander.
But judging by his performance just now—what a letdown.
Golden Boy might be among the strongest superhumans just below the likes of Homelander, Soldier Boy, and Queen Maeve, but he still wasn't enough.
As for the last one, Cate Dunlap, she possessed rare and formidable psychic powers—able to control others' minds through physical contact.
[Conquest Points: 11,430]
[Solidifying Template "Cate Dunlap" requires 8,900 Conquest Points. Proceed?]
[Yes.]
With all three of them unconscious in the alley, Russell turned to leave, a faint smile on his lips. He didn't hesitate to solidify the template—it was key to his next plan.
Other than laser vision and flight speed, in nearly every aspect, he was already equal to—or better than—Vought's prized product: Homelander.
If he walked into Vought today, demonstrated his abilities, and applied to join the Seven, he'd be accepted easily.
But Russell wasn't going to do it that way. He would enter Vought under a different identity—as one of their own superheroes.
Or rather… as the man in charge of Vought.
At a mountaintop villa, Stan Edgar slowly opened his eyes in the faint light of dawn.
He always woke like clockwork, but today, a piercing intuition shattered his lingering drowsiness—someone was watching him.
In the shadows cast by the curtain, a figure sat on a chair beside the bed. A handsome young man in a gray hoodie, fingers interlocked over his knees, sat silently. Who knows how long he had been there?
Edgar's fingers slid toward the emergency button beneath his pillow, but his voice was calm—calmer than upon waking.
"Young man, I presume you're not here to deliver breakfast."
Russell smiled—not threatening, more like appreciative.
"You really are always so composed, so in control, Mr. Edgar."
"Too bad… that's the only thing impressive about you."
Stan Edgar always carried a composed and commanding air—enough to intimidate even Homelander. People assumed he had some powerful secret weapon to keep Homelander in check.
That illusion shattered when Homelander ousted him with the board's help and threw him in prison. People finally realized all he had was that unreadable poker face—and nothing more.
"This isn't exactly how someone comes to pitch themselves for a job," Edgar said flatly.
"You think I'm here just to show off and win a contract as some super-powered recruit?" Russell asked.
"Isn't that what this is?" Edgar replied, unimpressed.
"No need to stall—your bodyguards have already been dealt with."
Russell rose to his feet.
"Now, take me to Vought's board of directors."
"You think you can threaten me?"
"It's not a threat. It's a command." Russell grabbed Edgar by the neck and lifted him off the bed. His eyes flashed with a cold glow.
Once set down, Edgar touched his throat and respectfully lowered his head.
"Yes, Master."
"Call me Sir. Now tell me—what card does Vought have up its sleeve to keep Homelander in check?"
From then on, every time Russell met a board member—after putting them under mind control—he asked them the same question.
He expected some hidden method that wasn't revealed in the original plot.
But the answers were astonishingly consistent.
"Sir, ever since he was a child in the lab, we hired the world's top psychological experts to design his upbringing and experiences.
We made sure he grew up insecure, emotionally fragile, and desperately needy for attention and affection—so that he would always crave the spotlight and the fanbase Vought crafted for him."
"He has godlike powers, but in daily life he's completely infantilized—forever dependent on Vought as his caretaker."
"What if Homelander goes rogue?"
"Homelander can't go rogue, Sir."
"I said—what if?"
"Sir, he won't. As a child, he—" In a luxurious study, the last board member, a bloated, sleep-deprived man with dark circles from indulgent nights, looked confused.
He was about to repeat the exact same line Russell had heard many times already—like a broken robot.
It was as if he truly didn't understand why his master kept asking such an impossible question.
"A bunch of idiots."
Russell couldn't stand it anymore. He hurled a heavy book at the man's face and kicked him out.
"They spent all their time trying to control Homelander—without preparing for the possibility of him breaking free.
No wonder when Edgar was taken down, Vought turned into Homelander's personal playground."
"You're absolutely right, Sir. The Vought board is nothing more than a bunch of parasites leeching off the company founded by the original Vought," Edgar stepped forward and said with a cold smile, lowering his head in agreement—as if this was something he had long believed.
"They only sit on the board because they inherited the Vought bloodline—not because they're smart or talented."
"And you? What would you do if Homelander went rogue?" Russell asked sharply.
Edgar, who had also lost to Homelander, replied calmly.
"Vought Labs has been developing Compound V-Temp. It grants temporary superpowers and can be safely injected into adults.
Its effects are predicted to last only 24 hours—ensuring we never create a permanently unstable, destructive subject."
Even under mind control, Edgar's dismissive tone remained unchanged when speaking of Homelander as a company product.
"Sir, once Compound V-Temp is mass-produced, we can screen candidates globally and form an elite superhuman task force.
If Homelander loses control, we can deploy this team to neutralize and recover him."
.....
[300PS= 1Bonus chapter]
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