A figure in red, white, and blue dropped from the sky with crushing force and slamd down in the exact center of the stage.
"Boom!"
The hard marble platform cracked beneath him, spiderweb fractures ripping outward in every direction as dust billowed into the air.
When the dust cleared, Holander slowly straightened up.
Holander had arrived.
Neuman’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden sight.
The composure on her face vanished in an instant, replaced by a flash of panic she couldn’t hide.
She instinctively took half a step back.
Holander didn’t even look at her.
He simply reached out, his movent gentle yet carrying a force no one could resist, and pulled the microphone straight from Neuman’s stiff hand.
Then he turned to face the tens of thousands of protesters below.
The crowd went dead silent.
A mont ago, the square had been boiling with noise, people screaming about skinning Holander alive and tearing him apart. Now, not a single sound could be heard.
That was Holander’s power.
Even when he did nothing, even when he only stood there, he brought pressure down on everyone around him.
Even though everyone there knew Holander probably wouldn’t hurt them.
Holding the microphone, Holander looked down over the crowd from above.
He wasn’t smiling. That perfect, signature Holander smile had vanished completely.
He just stared silently at the people below, his gaze cold.
But just as Holander was about to speak...
"Holander! You murdering psycho!"
A sudden furious shout broke the silence.
In the crowd, a burly man shoved his way to the front row and hurled a plastic bottle full of water at the stage.
"Thwack!"
The bottle struck Holander in the chest, then bounced to the ground, splashing water all over his spotless cape.
All across the square, people’s pupils shrank as they sucked in sharp breaths.
That guy was insane. Absolutely fucking insane.
The man who threw the bottle was nad Mike.
His chest was heaving, and his forehead was slick with cold sweat.
He wasn’t so fighter for justice. He was just a paid provocateur, hired for a fortune by a politician.
In his earpiece, the politician’s aide was frantically pushing him to piss Holander off.
A huge sum of money had already been deposited into Mike’s account.
His wife and kids had also been sent safely overseas by that politician.
If today, in front of live caras broadcasting to the entire world, he could successfully provoke this emotionally unstable strongest man alive...
If Holander shot a hole through his head with Heat Vision right here and now...
Then Mike’s family would receive enough compensation to live on for generations.
And Vought International and Holander would be dragged into an even deeper public opinion crisis.
That was exactly the bloody incident those politicians hiding in the shadows wanted to see most.
Mike stared straight into Holander’s eyes. He was ready.
Co on. Let see that famous red glow. Burn to ash.
Three seconds passed.
No red light appeared.
Holander still stood quietly on the stage.
His eyes didn’t turn crimson. He only lowered his head slightly and locked his blue eyes onto Mike below.
Mike, who had been ready to die, suddenly grew uneasy. He had no idea what Holander was about to do.
Then Holander slowly raised the microphone.
"No."
His voice rolled low across the entire square through the massive speakers.
"I’m not a murderer."
Holander spoke each word clearly.
And for the first ti, there was actually a trace of... sincerity in his voice?
The crowd below went quiet. The protesters who had been ready to keep throwing things froze in place, looking at each other in confusion, completely unsure how to react.
Not far away, Maeve stared at Holander in disbelief. She had heard about what had happened to him over the past few days. What shocked Maeve was that Holander really had saved a lot of people, and he’d done it without any agenda. In fact, because he hadn’t told the PR departnt, he had ended up trapped in this public opinion crisis.
What the hell had happened to Holander?
Was he actually trying to beco a real superhero?
Or was this because Holander was about to snap?
Was that why he was acting like this?
Maeve’s feelings were complicated.
Part of it was because Holander had changed.
But more than that, she was afraid Holander might finally go completely off the deep end and slaughter everyone there.
Neuman had spent years in politics, and her instincts were sharper than an animal’s.
She imdiately sensed the suffocating danger in the air.
Neuman had wanted to use this chance to denounce Holander and Vought, but that absolutely did not an she wanted to corner this walking nuclear weapon right now.
Politics was politics, but she only had one life.
Neuman took a deep breath and forced a mild smile onto her face.
She pulled out a backup microphone and tried to get the situation under control.
"Everyone, please calm down. Holander is human too. Everyone makes mistakes."
"But we have to follow the law, right? Holander only needs to give the public a sincere apology now, and then..."
"No, no, no."
Holander cut her off.
Expressionless, Holander stepped directly in front of Neuman.
He didn’t even glance at the rising female politician.
"Neuman just lied to you. She stood on this stage and lied right to your faces."
Holding the microphone, Holander slowly swept his gaze across the thousands of stunned faces below.
"I don’t make mistakes, because... I am nothing like you."
Holander’s voice quickly rose.
"I’m stronger! I’m smarter! I’m better!"
"I! Am! Better!"
It wasn’t only the audience below the stage.
Plenty of people watching on TV were shocked by Holander’s words too.
And more than a few of Holander’s fans, seeing him so forceful in that mont, looked at him with admiration. So were even smiling.
Of course, that included a certain die-hard Holander fan from the original show who would later be beaten to death with a baseball bat.
Beside him was Mother’s Milk’s wife.
...
At the scene, no one dared make even the slightest sound of protest.
Holander continued.
"I’m not that pathetic little bitch you people talk about, the one who cries and apologizes the second trouble shows up! Just because I killed two pieces of shit?"
"That trash tried to rape a pregnant woman! They deserved to die!"
"I killed two scumbags who had it coming, and then this pack of politicians forced to lower my head and apologize to the whole damn world! Why? What gives them the right to force ?!"
Neuman stood off to the side and didn’t dare say a word.
More than once, she had heard her adoptive father say Holander was emotionally unstable.
This ti, she was seeing it for herself.
Holander’s chest rose and fell as if he were finally letting out emotions he had buried for far too long.
"My whole life, people with money and power have tried to control . They sit up there looking down on , telling what to do..."
"They wanted to shut down. They even paid trolls to sar all over the internet!"
"They wanted powerless. They wanted obedient. They treated like so goddamn puppet on strings!"
Holander gave a cold laugh, his eyes full of biting mockery.
"You know what the saddest part is? It worked. Their bullshit actually worked."
"Because I compromised before. I let them get what they wanted!"
He raised a finger and jabbed it hard toward the crowd below, toward the people who had been protesting monts ago.
"You know sothing? If they can control , controlling you is easy! You idiots just don’t even realize it!"
A few heavy breaths rose faintly from the crowd. Many faces had gone pale.
A lot of them felt that Holander had... actually hit the mark.
"But now, I’m done."
The veins in Holander’s neck bulged as his voice grew louder and louder.
"I will never apologize for killing those two scumbags! Never. Not ever!"
"I’m sick of being persecuted just because I have power, persecuted by these goddamn politicians over and over again."
He lifted his head high and looked down over the entire square.
"All of you should be thanking God."
"Thank God He made a Supe like ! Because you useless pieces of shit need ! Every last one of you weaklings needs to save you!"
A gust of wind swept past.
It lifted the Stars and Stripes cape behind him.
Holander took a deep breath, and his tone settled back into calm, laced with arrogance.
" and Soldier Boy, my father, and the real Supes. We’re the wall standing between you and disaster."
"You’re not the real heroes."
"We... are the real heroes..."
"I..."
"Am the real hero."
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