The Deep, who'd been hit, immediately stiffened and could no longer scream. He flew straight down toward the empty ground below.
A muffled thud came from the pavement in the distance. Starlight mustered her courage and went to the broken window, leaning out to look down.
"I mean, thank you!"
"What are you talking about, Miss Starlight?"
As he twirled the Super Electromagnetic Hand Cannon around his index finger and holstered it at his waist, Jordan looked at the blonde girl beside him with a puzzled expression.
"I didn't do anything."
Starlight chuckled, and for some reason, she felt exceptionally cheerful.
"You're also a member of the Seven? I don't even know your name."
"Well, I joined a little earlier than you. Secretly." Jordan made it up on the spot. "You can call me the Flash, or Joe."
"Okay, Joe. You can call me Starlight, or Annie."
"Okay, Annie. Want to grab a drink?"
"Of course. I was too busy today and didn't have time to eat dinner."
The two looked at each other and couldn't help but smile.
Inside an apartment
Butcher's eyes were bloodshot as he sorted through the information he'd gathered about Compound V.
Suddenly, a pop-up ad appeared in the bottom right corner of the screen.
The advertisement featured a promotional photo of the Seven member the Deep, who smiled kindly and warmly.
"Disgusting bedbugs..."
Butcher spat, his expression one of disgust.
Just as he was about to close the ad window, the words on it piqued his curiosity.
Superheroes' nightlife? You'll miss out if you don't click now! Breaking news you absolutely don't want to miss!!
"Let me see what this green-skinned sissy has done..."
Butcher clicked on it, and a video labeled "unedited" began to play.
The flickering computer screen shone on his face. His fierce expression froze for a moment before he revealed an arrogant and wicked smile.
"It was him! It was definitely him! I knew it!"
The Deep is dead.
Before his death, he'd been exposed in a scandalous and disgraceful video, leaving even seasoned professionals in Vought's talent and relations department at a loss for how to defend him.
This video acted as a fuse, unearthing more scandals buried by time through the efforts of netizens.
The most convincing evidence was that on the day A-Train struck and killed a pedestrian, the police station had not received any reports of bank robbery. The police station's call log was posted online.
In other words, the explanation given by A-Train when he apologized that day—that he'd accidentally lost control while chasing a bank robber—was complete nonsense.
Upon hearing this conclusion, the fans who'd traveled from all over the country overnight to attend A-Train's farewell ceremony felt as if they'd eaten shit.
What the hell have I become a fan of?!
As things escalated, with the help of certain individuals, almost every superhero, from the Seven to those in obscurity, was thoroughly exposed.
The stock price of Vought International plummeted, causing severe turmoil throughout the entire superhero sector.
Upon hearing the news, Ashley remained expressionless, and for the first time, the thought of resigning crossed her mind.
Is it even possible to continue this business?
A member of the Seven's body had just been buried, and now another has died?
Let whoever wants to write the obituary write it. I'm not doing it anymore!
Of course, such thoughts could only linger in her mind.
Ashley, clutching the documents, rushed quickly into Madelyn's office.
As soon as she entered the door, she stopped in her tracks.
Madelyn, sitting at her desk, had a livid face. A man in a blue uniform and a cape with the American flag stood silently by the window with his back to the door.
Across from Madelyn, the head of the technical department was wiping sweat as he explained.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. All the surveillance cameras in the building went out of order last night. We really can't find out who did it."
The middle-aged man with black-rimmed glasses looked helpless. He'd truly tried his best.
However, the other party's technology far exceeded his expectations. The building's surveillance server had no records, making it impossible for them to investigate.
Madelyn then questioned, "What about the videos online? Why weren't they deleted immediately?"
"The publisher used an internal corporate account, and the company's network was disrupted when it was first published. By the time it was restored, it was completely too late."
Madelyn covered her face and remained silent. Unlike everyone else present, she was the only one who knew Jordan's background.
Since Edgar had personally selected the new hero to be included in the Seven, she naturally attributed it to the president's intention.
What does he want?
To ruin the Seven's reputation?
What benefit would this bring to Edgar himself?
What exactly is the reason for this?!
For a moment, Madelyn was completely baffled.
"You can go now..."
After shooing the head of the technical department away, Madelyn turned to Ashley, who'd just entered. "Ashley, tell everyone that the Deep committed suicide to take responsibility. Also, go and bring Starlight to me."
"Understood, ma'am. I'll be right there!"
Ashley felt like she'd been granted a pardon and practically ran out before the technical director.
"Relax. Let me handle this for you."
Homelander had somehow moved behind Madelyn and gently massaged her shoulders.
"Things haven't gotten any worse," Madelyn breathed a sigh of relief, forcing a smile. "Yes, we still have you. Thank you, John."
Homelander was indeed one of the few superheroes who weren't affected by this media storm.
Thanks to his own strength and Vought's idol-making plan, his public image had always been flawless. It was almost impossible to find enough solid evidence to prove any negative information about him online.
Vought's public relations team grasped at this lifeline, re-releasing a large number of heroic deeds, which caused his public approval rating to rise steadily, becoming Vought's last fig leaf.
"You're welcome, Madelyn. I'm the leader of the Seven. Leave it to me."
Homelander subconsciously straightened his chest, a strong sense of responsibility welling up inside him.
Madelyn picked up the phone on the table. "Please connect me to the president, thank you... What, he's not here?"
"Where did he go at this time?!"
A street-side coffee shop in Manhattan
A sharp-eyed middle-aged Black man entered the coffee shop under the escort of bodyguards and sat down at a window seat.
"Hello, Mr. Flash. I think this should be our first official meeting."
"Hello, Mr. Edgar. You look much more approachable than I expected."
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