Chapter 78: Super Tracking
"Oh my God... Ben, I honestly don’t know how you do it," Stormfront said, stepping forward as she looked at the two captives who didn’t show a single trace of resistance. "You don’t have super speed, and you don’t have the ability to fly. But why is it that every ti we’re on a mission, you always manage to find them before I do, and you wrap up the fight so clean and fast? Why the hell is that?"
Hearing this, Benjamin didn’t know what to say. He could hardly tell her he possessed a super tracking ability, could he?
"You deadweights are running way too slow. Where the hell is Holander?" Before long, Holander finally descended at a leisurely pace. Right now, Holander looked a bit worse for wear. His iconic suit was caked in dust and muck from the sewer. Clearly, being buried alive under that rubble by Kenji earlier had forced him to expend so effort just to dig himself out looking like a total ss.
Seeing that Benjamin was not only completely unhard but had also perfectly executed the objective of capturing them alive, Holander froze on the spot, entirely at a loss for words.
Stormfront cast a glance at the Black onlookers, intensely irritated deep down. But with Benjamin standing right there, she had no choice but to restrain herself.
Before long, Queen Maeve, Starlight, A-Train, and The Deep filtered into the area one after another. The Seven were fully assembled. Benjamin looked at the squad before him, supposed to represent the pinnacle of global combat power, yet each one proved more useless than the last. He shook his head in absolute disgust. In the end, it still ca down to a hundred-year-old geezer like him to handle shit personally. The Deep and A-Train were absolute deadweights; A-Train was slightly excusable given his heart condition, which was understandable, but The Deep was just profoundly, utterly useless.
"I honestly don’t even know what the fuck to say to you lot... Fuck, you’re just a pack of un-carryable morons," Benjamin sighed, cursing.
Hearing Benjamin’s reaming, Holander actually flashed a sowhat slighted, hurt expression. He wondered if he had let Benjamin down. He craved Benjamin’s validation, yet here he was, having completely botched things...
Starlight and Maeve exchanged a glance. It felt like they had spent the entire mission doing absolutely nothing, but there was no helping it; after all, they weren’t speedsters either.
"Alright, let’s head back," Benjamin said.
------
A dozen minutes later. A battered black cargo van parked discreetly at the street corner. Butcher, Mother’s Milk, and Frenchie slunk onto the scene. However, taking in the deserted parking lot and the crumpled vehicular scrap tal flipped over by a terrifying force, a profound sense of despair instantly surged in their chests.
"Shit..." Frenchie dropped to his knees, staring at the pool of blood that belonged to Kimiko, his hands clawing at his hair in pure agony. "Kimiko and Kenji were definitively fleeing in this exact direction just monts ago, and now there isn’t a single trace of them. Nothing but paths of absolute destruction... They’ve definitely been taken."
The re thought of that girl—who might have been as feral as a wild beast but possessed a fragile, deeply gentle heart—falling into the clutches of those Vought perverts gave Frenchie a piercing ache in his chest.
"Those goddamn Supe siblings! Nothing but a massive clusterfuck!" Butcher cursed, thoroughly pissed off. If Kenji hadn’t disrupted the play halfway through, he might have had a shot at securing that rogue Supe, taking him to Mallory to trade for Becca’s coordinates. Now, his hands were left entirely empty.
"Kimiko is not a goddamn Supe!" Hearing Butcher’s insults, Frenchie snapped back. "She’s a victim! She was only trying to save her brother!"
"Supes are all the sa. They all deserve to die!" Butcher shot back.
"Shut the fuck up, both of you. Quit bickering." Mother’s Milk, who had remained dead silent until now, stood at the periter of the ruins. Though he put a lid on his teammates’ arguing, he found himself thoroughly drowning in his own hatred. Mother’s Milk squeezed his fists into a white-knuckled grip. "Soldier Boy..."
------
Inside Vought Tower, at the maximum-security Supe holding facility. There were no freezing iron bars here; there were only minimalist, pure white walls and reinforced glass engineered to easily warp a person’s sense of ti. Benjamin walked down the pristine white corridor with a asured stride. Right on his heels, Vice President Anika tightly trailed him, her high heels clicking as she clutched a highly classified public relations proposal that had just been drafted. Truth be told, though Anika’s skin was on the darker side, her features were exceptionally sharp—especially those beautiful large eyes, paired with her Vice President’s attire.
"Sir, the extraction operation was a phenonal success!" Anika said, a trace of excitent in her voice. "Mobilizing the entire roster of The Seven, coupled with you leading the team personally—it’s an absolute goldmine for the news cycle. I recomnd staging a globally broadcasted press conference imdiately to showcase these two captured Supe-Terrorists to the public. Not only will this drastically terrify any enemies lurking in the shadows, but it’ll easily double Vought’s stock price for the quarter!"
"Drop the corporate theater, Anika. If you want to pitch that shit, go find Holander and the rest of them." Benjamin didn’t even bother turning his head, ruthlessly throwing a wet blanket over her enthusiasm. "Furthermore, the current Vought isn’t so Hollywood talent agency. I don’t need to act like a goddamn circus clown, wagging my tail for approval in front of a cara just because we caught a pair of rats."
Anika stiffened, lowering her head respectfully. "Understood, sir." Watching Soldier Boy’s retreating back, her gaze overflowed with absolute adoration.
------
Pushing open the heavy door to Cell One, Kimiko was fixed securely to an interrogation chair, bound tightly by custom high-strength alloy chains. Hearing the heavy door open, she snapped her head up, glaring viciously at Benjamin as he strode inside.
Benjamin paced up to her, looking down at the hostile girl from his imposing height. Eschewing any violence, he casually waved a hand. With a sharp click, the electronic lock binding Kimiko’s right hand snapped open, and he tossed a folder and a black marker onto the tallic table in front of her.
"I know you’re a mute. If you don’t want to suffer unnecessarily, we can communicate this way." Benjamin pulled up a chair, sat down, and lit a cigar.
Kimiko massaged her bruised, purplish wrist, throwing a freezing glare at him. In the next split second, she snatched up the marker, ripped off the cap, and with pure rage, violently scrawled seven massive letters across a sheet of clean white printer paper, slamming it dead in front of Benjamin.
[FUCK YOU!]
"Heh." Devoid of any anger, Benjamin simply shrugged his shoulders in mild amusent. The brat’s temperant actually shared a striking resemblance to his own. It felt as though if she ever found her voice, her choice of explosive vocabulary would match his perfectly. Then again, plenty of people in this world had a volatile way with words...
"Save your energy, kid. I don’t have ti to burn sitting around here with you." Benjamin blew out a cloud of smoke, his deep eyes locking onto Kimiko. "I’m not going to waste breath on useless garbage. I know your background, and I know your capabilities. I know your powers were thrust onto you by that piece-of-shit terrorist cell, the Shining Light Liberation Army, forcibly injecting you with Vought’s serum."
At the ntion of the "Shining Light Liberation Army," the hand clutching her pen surged with a violent shudder, a flash of pure shock and hatred flickering deep in her eyes.
------
A/N: Don’t forget to send Power Stones for more Chapters!!
Want to know what happens next? You can read up to 10 Chapters ahead on my p@tr~on:
/ForgottenDaoist (@ = a, link is in my profile).
User Comments
0 comments from readers