"At least someone here isn't a complete idiot."
Even though the idea wasn't anything groundbreaking, Russell still nodded in approval.
At the very least, Edgar understood the importance of staying vigilant in times of peace.
"With the combined strength of the Butcher, Hughie, and Soldier Boy after injecting temporary Compound V, they can briefly suppress Homelander.If we exclude the uncontrollable Soldier Boy, then maybe with six or seven more temporary superhumans at the Butcher and Hughie's level, Homelander wouldn't even have a chance to escape before getting taken down."
With that thought in mind, Russell asked calmly, "How long does it take to manufacture temporary Compound V?"
"If we ignore the serious health-damaging side effects, the finished product for temporary Compound V would take about a year and a half to two years," Edgar replied.
Thump. Thump.
"Too slow."
Russell tapped the table, clearly displeased with the timeline.
Even though he knew from the original plot that the temporary Compound V never reached mass production until after Edgar was removed, it still felt far too slow.
"If we invest without restraint and expand the lab by hiring more personnel and increasing resources, we might be able to finish it within three to five months," Edgar offered, gritting his teeth.
Vought had always been a biotech company, and Compound V research had always been a top priority with maximum resource allocation. But since there had never been much pressure, the research had progressed at a relaxed pace.
The main issue was that scientific research couldn't be rushed.
It wasn't as simple as throwing in ten times the money or manpower and expecting ten times the progress—there would always be a limit.
"Do it."
Russell nodded.
He knew this was probably the fastest pace achievable. Even if redirecting resources to this project disrupted Vought's other departments, he didn't care.
After all, Vought now belonged to him.
And once temporary Compound V was successfully developed, the returns would far outweigh any costs.
"Sir, you've met with everyone on the board, but there's still one woman in Vought's management with a special background…"
Edgar hesitated instead of turning to leave.
"A woman... Stormfront?"
Russell immediately understood who he was talking about.
Stormfront—Vought's founder's wife. An old relic who had survived since the last century, obsessed with Aryan supremacy.
"Stormfront is the eldest surviving member of the Vought family. However, due to her stubbornness, paranoia, and abusive upbringing methods, her children eventually turned against her and collectively forced her off the board.
She no longer holds any shares and is said to have been in hiding in Germany for years," Edgar explained.
The Vought family no longer cared where Stormfront was and would be happier if she stayed hidden forever. No one really knew her current whereabouts.
"If her influence within Vought relied solely on whatever emotional ties her children once had, and even they didn't want to see her anymore, let alone now…"
After a long day of traveling and controlling countless minds, Russell rubbed his temple in mild fatigue.
Edgar nodded in agreement. He only brought her up to remind his master that someone like that still existed in Vought's orbit.
"But... look into her. Find out where she is and report back to me."
"Yes, sir."
Russell knew this woman wouldn't stay quiet. In the future storyline, she would return with delusional plans to emotionally manipulate Homelander and build an Aryan superhuman army to conquer the world.
But now that Vought belonged to him, he wouldn't allow any of that nonsense.
Oh right—speaking of which...
Russell narrowed his eyes as a thought struck him.
"It seems Homelander has been secretly leaking Compound V to support terrorist groups, all to highlight the importance of his existence and gain more fans."
If superhuman villains appeared, some of the regular "actors" in the superhero community wouldn't be able to handle them. Homelander, despite also putting on a show, still had the stats to easily eliminate these threats and appear as the irreplaceable hero.
"On top of that, his Oedipal complex has him scheming to push a bill allowing superheroes into the national defense system—just to earn the admiration of the aging Vought VP, Madelyn Stillwell."
Russell let out a cold snort.
A two-birds-one-stone move. Quite the cunning plan.
But now? All of that was his property.
In fact, superheroes entering the national defense system would greatly benefit Vought.
However, without Compound V, there would be no superhumans in this world. And the Compound V formula was more important than anything else—any leak must be ruthlessly eliminated.
In the grand conference room of the Seven, the streets of New York buzzed below the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Morning sunlight spilled across the gold-trimmed meeting table—it looked like the start of a beautiful day.
At the weekly meeting, Queen Maeve, Black Noir, Deep, Starlight, and the wheelchair-bound A-Train were all present.
Madelyn Stillwell strode in quickly on high heels, her form-fitting black suit accentuating her sharp figure. She clutched a stack of unsigned documents and glanced at the caped figure standing at the window like a disapproving parent.
"Homelander," she said with a trace of irritation, "I have seventeen contracts waiting for review. This better not be about some petty nonsense."
Homelander stood with his back to them, sunlight glinting off the golden eagle on his shoulder. He didn't respond immediately but slowly turned around, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
"Deep," he called softly, as if summoning an obedient dog.
The Deep gulped and nervously fidgeted with the sleeve of his green scaly costume. Still, he got up and pulled a metal box out from beneath the table.
"Uh... this..." he stammered, glancing uneasily between Madelyn and Homelander.
Maeve and the others looked puzzled. No one knew what Homelander was up to or what was inside the box.
"Open it," Homelander commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
"Let them see what's become of Translucent."
The Deep hesitated, took a deep breath, and lifted the lid—
A foul stench filled the room.
Inside, all that remained of Translucent was a deflated, blood-smeared skin suit. The rest of his flesh and organs had been completely dissolved by acid, like some horrific creation of a deranged serial killer.
Madelyn's pupils contracted violently. She stumbled back, nearly knocking over a water glass, as the files in her hands slipped and scattered to the floor.
Though she was Vought's vice president and commanded authority over even the superheroes, she spent most of her time in an office and had never witnessed such a gruesome sight.
"Oh my God..." Starlight shot up from her chair, hands clamped over her mouth as nausea churned in her stomach.
Maeve's brows furrowed. Shock flickered in her eyes, but she quickly regained her cold composure.
A-Train sat in his wheelchair—his legs still in casts and wrapped in bandages. He turned pale at the sight of the skin and couldn't help but think of the attack he'd suffered days ago. His hand went instinctively to his throbbing legs, and an image flashed in his mind:
A devilish figure in a cold, expressionless mask.
"Someone dared attack a member of the Seven... was it him? Did he do this?"
.....
[300PS= 1Bonus chapter]
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