Of course, there were Maeve and Starlight too.
Holander had not expected the two of them to co save his father either.
Thinking of that, Holander felt his throat tighten.
His teammates from The Seven had all co.
Not because of Vought’s orders, not because Edgar had deployed them, and not because the PR departnt had arranged so staged performance.
They had co on their own, for his father, and for him.
"You..."
Holander opened his mouth, wanting to say sothing, but the words caught in his throat.
He had rarely ever said anything sincere to his teammates.
Bullying and threats, sure.
"Stop getting so fucking sentintal. Jesus, the way you’re all looking at makes it seem like you’re about to start an orgy."
Benjamin sighed helplessly as he walked past him.
Maeve, Starlight: ...
...
Evening.
Vought Tower.
The elevator doors opened on the eighty-second floor. The hallway was unnaturally quiet.
Benjamin walked in front, his shield hanging from his left arm. Holander followed half a step behind him, the hem of his cape brushing the floor and dragging out a long, thin red reflection.
Maeve, Starlight, and Deep walked farther behind. Maeve had her arms crossed, while Starlight moved with a light spring in her step. When they ca back, they had heard that Soldier Boy and Holander were going to do sothing big, so she was looking forward to it.
Deep, anwhile, had a small, slightly dried piece of bird shit stuck to his bald head. No one told him.
...
At the end of the hallway was Edgar’s private office. The door was open.
Stan Edgar sat behind his huge solid-wood desk, dressed in a crisp suit, his tie perfectly knotted.
A glass of whiskey sat on the desk. Beside it, a phone screen glowed, playing a livestream.
That was right. Edgar had started a livestream too.
At that mont, the viewer count was still climbing, and dense lines of comnts covered the entire screen.
"Edgar, you’re the biggest disgrace in Vought’s history! Betraying a World War II hero, are you even human?"
"Fuck you, Edgar. Soldier Boy risked his life for this country, and you hid in your office and handed him to the Russians like a gift?"
"Edgar, I hope your whole family fucking dies!"
"The police are on their way, Edgar. You’re not getting away today. The whole country is watching you."
"This old bastard still has the nerve to sit there drinking? Look at him acting all respectable, like nothing happened."
"His face looks like it’s saying, ’I don’t care.’ He really doesn’t care. People like that are the scariest."
"Edgar, where are your Board of Directors mbers? Oh, right. They’re all dead. Now you’re the only one left. How does that feel?"
"Holander and Soldier Boy are almost there. Aren’t you going to run? Oh, you can’t. You’re just an ordinary person. You fucking deserve this."
Edgar’s expression did not change at all.
He raised his glass and took a sip, as if he were reviewing financial reports on an ordinary work night.
In truth, Edgar had considered many options, but this was the best solution.
He had contacted Stormfront, but unfortunately, Stormfront had no intention of helping him.
As for Neuman... how could she possibly deal with Soldier Boy and Holander?
Edgar knew he had reached the end of the road.
More importantly, he had provoked an enraged Soldier Boy and an enraged Holander. Right now, both of them were beyond Vought’s control. That was the key.
Perhaps the livestream could still save his life.
...
Benjamin walked into the office.
Holander followed behind him. When he saw Edgar’s calm face, the red glow at the edges of his pupils began to tremble faintly again.
"Everyone, this ti, I lost."
Edgar’s voice was as steady as if he were presiding over a eting.
He set the whiskey glass on the desk and slowly said, "Benjamin, I underestimated you. Or perhaps I overestimated myself. You fought over thirty Supes alone and still managed to livestream it for the whole world to see. Soldier Boy, your reputation for being uncontrollable is well-deserved. So is your strength. You truly are formidable."
He raised a finger and pointed at the phone on the desk, where the comnts were still rolling wildly.
"Because of my actions, the Arican public and the police will not let off. So I’ve already called the police. They’re on their way. You don’t have to kill , and you don’t need to. Killing may damage your approval ratings, and you’ve only just managed to bring them back up, haven’t you?"
He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands on the desk, and shifted his gaze from Benjamin to Holander.
Edgar continued, "Vought is yours now. And Ashley’s. She’s on your side, isn’t she? She’s a smart woman. She chose the right side. As for , I will spend the rest of my life in prison. That is the best outco for everyone. For you, for Vought, and for the public."
The sound of elevator doors opening ca from the hallway.
Ashley hurried over with several of Vought’s remaining mid-level executives and stopped abruptly at the office door.
When she saw Edgar still sitting behind the desk, she instinctively shrank back half a step, then stepped forward again.
The executives behind her were far less composed. So had sweat all over their foreheads, their suit collars darkened by perspiration.
As for Maeve, Deep, and Starlight, they stood behind Holander and watched the show.
Maeve was curious. Based on what she knew of Holander, he would probably only place Edgar under house arrest. He likely would not kill him. But Benjamin...
So Maeve was very curious about what Benjamin would do.
Under the gaze of every core mber of Vought present, Benjamin slowly walked over to Edgar.
He reached out, picked up the phone on the desk, and closed his fingers around it.
The sound of the screen shattering was like a nut being crushed underfoot.
The tal fra crumpled in his palm like paper. Shards slipped through his fingers, fell onto the carpet, bounced twice, and rolled to the edge of Edgar’s shoe.
"You think I care?"
Edgar looked up at him.
His expression still did not change, but his eyes flickered slightly.
"Wait. We can still talk. The terms... the terms can still be negotiated. Holander, your father has returned to your side. Don’t you want to know about your son..."
The mont those words left his mouth, Holander’s pupils contracted.
Son? What son?
He had a son?
Vought’s executives had been deceiving him all along...
Could it be... his father, himself, and even his son had all been persecuted?
Had Vought persecuted his entire family?
Benjamin reached out and clamped his fingers around Edgar’s head.
The intense pain left Edgar unable to speak.
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