Chapter 21: Active and Passive
The top floor of Vought Tower.
The searchlights on the helipad were still on.
The night wind swept across the roof, whipping Homelander's cape until it snapped loudly.
He descended from the sky.
His boots touched the concrete, the sound not heavy, yet it made everyone at the edge of the helipad tense up simultaneously.
Li Xing landed after him.
He was carrying Bibi Labu by one hand.
The moment Bibi Labu's four legs touched the ground, he immediately flopped down, his dog face pressed against the cold concrete.
"I'm alive."
"I'm actually still alive."
"This is truly a miracle of life."
"From the first spark of life under the water... to the Stone Age..."
Li Xing let go.
"Stop, stop, stop, you're practically quoting Civilization VI now."
"Weren't you quite good at playing the priest on the plane just a moment ago?"
Bibi Labu lifted his head, his dog face deathly pale.
"The priest never said he was going to be carried by Homelander across the Atlantic Ocean."
"I suppose I count as one of the few dogs to have crossed the Atlantic Ocean."
Homelander's gaze swept across the helipad toward the glass door leading to the internal elevator.
Behind the door, Madelyn Stillwell was already standing there.
Behind her were Ashley, several PR directors, two Department of Defense liaisons, and some people from Vought's security department.
Everyone was looking at him.
Or more accurately, they were looking at Homelander, who had just dragged an entire plane back from the death list.
Madelyn Stillwell pushed the door open and stepped out.
She wore a perfect smile on her face.
"John."
"You did very well."
Homelander stopped in his tracks.
In the past, this sentence would have been enough to make him feel good for a long time.
But tonight was different.
The screams from the plane were still ringing in his ears.
The image of the passengers kneeling in the aisle thanking him was still fresh in his eyes.
They weren't thanking Vought.
They weren't thanking the PR Department.
They weren't thanking the Department of Defense.
They were thanking him.
Homelander.
He looked at Madelyn Stillwell without speaking immediately.
Madelyn Stillwell sensed something was wrong.
She took a step forward, her tone softening.
"John, I know you're very tired right now."
"You saved over a hundred people."
"Everyone will know about this."
"I will make sure they do."
Homelander's eyes flickered.
Li Xing lit a cigarette nearby.
The flame of the lighter flickered in the night wind.
"How many died?"
Ashley looked up.
The noise on the helipad died down instantly.
Madelyn Stillwell looked at Li Xing.
Her smile remained, but the temperature had dropped.
"Three hijackers."
"The co-pilot."
"One flight attendant."
Li Xing exhaled smoke.
"So, not a perfect operation."
"It's an operation that can still be sold."
Ashley's expression changed.
The expression of the Department of Defense liaisons didn't look good either.
Madelyn Stillwell responded quickly.
"The media won't write it that way."
"The survivors are uploading photos and videos."
"The footage of Homelander standing in the middle of the cabin has already started spreading."
"This will be the biggest news of the night."
Li Xing smiled.
"Who writes the news?"
Madelyn Stillwell looked at him.
"Vought will guide it."
Li Xing flicked the ash from his cigarette.
"Guide it into what?"
"The Seven's rapid response?"
"Vought's crisis mechanism success?"
"Rescue completed under unified company coordination?"
He looked at Homelander.
"Or write it clearly."
"Homelander decided to go himself."
A smile slowly appeared on Homelander's face.
He liked that sentence.
Not because Li Xing was praising him.
But because Li Xing hit the nail on the head.
He wasn't sent there.
He went on his own.
Madelyn Stillwell's gaze lingered between the two for a moment.
Li Xing wasn't vying for credit.
He was planting something in Homelander's mind.
A thorn called "You shouldn't be managed."
Madelyn Stillwell turned to Homelander, her voice still soft.
"John, no one will erase your credit."
"But the most important thing now is to protect it."
Homelander looked at her.
"Protect?"
Madelyn Stillwell stepped closer.
She didn't look at Li Xing.
She only looked at Homelander.
"Yes."
"You saved the plane, that's a fact."
"But if the reports tomorrow become—Homelanderbypassed company procedures and intervened in an international flight crisis without authorization, what would the Department of Defense think?"
"What would the Board of Directors think?"
"What would those politicians who have always wanted to restrict you think?"
She slowed her speech.
"They will say you're out of control."
"They will say you are powerful, but unpredictable."
"John, I won't allow them to write about you like that."
Homelander's expression softened.
Li Xing chuckled.
Madelyn Stillwell finally looked at him.
"Do you find it funny?"
Li Xing held his cigarette.
"I think your rhetoric is quite practiced."
Madelyn Stillwell said indifferently.
"I am handling a crisis."
"You are creating a crisis."
Li Xing didn't deny it.
"Crises are sometimes more useful than PR."
Madelyn Stillwell looked at him.
"Li, you can certainly say that."
"Because the person bearing the consequences isn't you."
"If the stock price falls tomorrow, if the Department of Defense starts questioning Homelander's controllability, if the Board of Directors demands a re-evaluation of his operational authority..."
She paused.
"Will you take responsibility?"
Li Xing had the cigarette in his mouth, his tone lazy.
"I'm responsible for getting the plane back."
"The rest is your PR Department's job."
"If you can't even sell this, Vought might want to consider layoffs."
Homelander suddenly spoke.
"Madelyn Stillwell."
Everyone went quiet.
Madelyn Stillwell looked at him immediately.
"I'm here."
Homelander walked closer, step by step.
He looked down at Madelyn Stillwell.
"You called me many times just now."
Madelyn Stillwell didn't deny it.
"Because the situation was urgent."
"There were over a hundred people on the plane."
Homelander stared at her.
"So you need me."
Madelyn Stillwell answered quickly.
"Yes."
Homelander's eyes were slightly cold.
"Not ordering me?"
Madelyn Stillwell paused for half a second.
This half-second was very short.
But Homelander heard the change in her heartbeat.
He smiled.
The smile was very shallow.
"You never used to pause for so long before."
Madelyn Stillwell steadied her breathing.
"John, I have never treated you as an ordinary employee."
Homelander moved closer to her.
"Then what do you treat me as?"
Madelyn Stillwell didn't back down.
"The most important person at Vought."
The smile on Homelander's face widened a little.
"Person?"
"Or product?"
No one spoke again.
The tablet in Ashley's hand almost slipped.
The two Department of Defense liaisons exchanged a look.
Bibi Labu lay on the ground, not daring to move.
Li Xing chuckled.
Madelyn Stillwell didn't answer immediately.
This question couldn't be answered wrong.
If she said "person," Homelander wouldn't believe it.
If she said "product," someone might die tonight.
She said softly.
"John, you are irreplaceable."
Homelander stared at her for a few seconds.
"That sounds a bit better than the last one."
Madelyn Stillwell's fingers pressed against the edge of her phone.
He hadn't been completely placated.
In the past, as long as she gave a little tenderness, Homelander would lean in.
Tonight, he was still leaning in.
But not to ask for a reward.
He was here to confirm his own weight.
Li Xing flicked the ash onto the edge of the helipad.
"So, tonight's official statement needs to be written clearly."
Madelyn Stillwell looked at him.
"Write what?"
"Flight 37 rescue, led on-site by Homelander."
Ashley couldn't help but look up.
"This will make the outside world think he can act independently, outside of company coordination."
Li Xing looked at her.
"That's exactly what he just did."
Madelyn Stillwell didn't refuse immediately.
She was weighing the risks of this statement.
"It can be written as: Under Vought's crisis response framework, Homelander completed the critical on-site rescue."
Li Xing smiled.
"Look, here we go again."
Madelyn Stillwell's voice was slightly cold.
"This is a fact."
Li Xing looked at her.
"No."
"The fact is, when you called, he didn't pick up."
Homelander's mouth curled upward.
Madelyn Stillwell's smile faded.
Li Xing continued.
"The fact is, he went himself, and the people on the plane saw Homelander, not Vought's crisis response framework."
Madelyn Stillwell looked at Homelander.
"John, I can make the statement highlight you."
"But I cannot let the company admit in the statement that you are not subject to coordination."
The smile on Homelander's face vanished.
"Cannot?"
Madelyn Stillwell said softly.
"It's not that I can't."
"It's that I can't right now."
Li Xing raised an eyebrow.
This woman was indeed hard to suppress.
She didn't say "no."
She said "right now."
Leaving expectation for Homelander, and a retreat for herself.
Homelander looked at her without speaking.
At this moment, Madelyn Stillwell took out her phone.
"I need to confirm with Edgar."
Homelander's eyes grew colder.
"You still need his approval?"
Madelyn Stillwell looked at him.
"John, this is Vought International."
"It's not because I don't believe you."
"But because I need to ensure that tonight's victory won't be used by the Board of Directors and the Department of Defense to make an issue."
She dialed the number and put it on speaker.
A few seconds later, the call connected.
Edgar's steady voice came through.
"I saw the news."
Madelyn Stillwell said.
"Sir, Homelander has returned."
"Li suggested that tonight's official statement needs to explicitly state that Flight 37 was led on-site by Homelander."
There was silence on the other end for a moment.
"Is Li there too?"
Li Xing exhaled smoke.
"Good evening, old black devil, Stan."
Edgar's voice had no inflection.
"Mr. Li, congratulations on surviving a disaster."
Li Xing smiled.
"You sound a bit disappointed."
Edgar said.
"I wouldn't be disappointed by asset appreciation."
Homelander's eyes instantly turned cold.
Asset.
He didn't like that word.
Edgar continued.
"The Flight 37 incident will allow Vought to regain the advantage in negotiations with the Department of Defense."
"This is a good thing."
"But a good thing doesn't mean the structure can be broken."
Li Xing asked.
"So the statement won't be written?"
Edgar said.
"We can highlight Homelander's contribution."
Li Xing smiled.
"Highlight contribution."
"Sounds like some empty, bureaucratic nonsense like 'Employee of the Year'."
The other end wasn't provoked.
Edgar just said indifferently.
"Mr. Li, you saved a plane."
"That makes you news."
"Not a director."
The helipad went quiet.
The smile on Li Xing's face didn't change.
"I don't intend to be a director right now."
"I just don't like people writing a god as a company employee."
Edgar said.
"Gods don't need press releases."
Homelander suddenly spoke.
"Stan."
The other end paused.
This was the first time Homelander had addressed him by his name in such a situation.
Edgar didn't correct him.
"I'm listening."
Homelander looked at the phone.
"I saved a plane today."
"If I hadn't gone, you would already be preparing apologies, compensation plans, and stock price loss mitigation plans."
"Those people from the Department of Defense would also be questioning again whether Vought has the ability to handle a real crisis."
He lowered his voice.
"So don't tell me I'm just news."
Edgar was silent for two seconds.
"Of course you are not news."
Homelander's expression softened slightly.
The next second, Edgar continued.
"You are Vought's most valuable product."
Homelander's pupils contracted.
Red light flashed in the depths of his eyes.
Madelyn Stillwell spoke immediately.
"Sir."
Edgar didn't stop.
"The value of a product comes from scarcity, stability, and controllability."
"You proved the scarcity today."
"But stability and controllability still need to be proven."
Homelander's face turned completely cold.
"Are you lecturing me?"
Edgar didn't back down.
"I am evaluating you."
Li Xing looked at the increasingly obvious red light in Homelander's eyes and reached out to pat his shoulder.
The movement was light.
But everyone on the helipad looked over simultaneously.
No one dared to touch Homelander at this time.
Homelander slowly turned his head to look at Li Xing.
"Don't be impatient."
Homelander stared at him.
Li Xing smiled.
"He's already scared."
Edgar on the other end didn't speak.
Li Xing continued.
"The more scared he is, the more he will say things like that."
"Calling you a product is because he can only use such words to reassure himself."
The red light in Homelander's eyes didn't disappear immediately.
"Are you sure?"
Li Xing said.
"If he really thought you were just a product, he wouldn't have let Madelyn Stillwell stand here and wait for you in person."
"And he certainly wouldn't have answered this call."
Homelander looked at the phone again.
On the other end, Edgar said calmly.
"A brilliant explanation."
"But it doesn't change the outcome."
Edgar returned to the main topic.
"Tonight's statement can be written: Homelander made a decisive contribution in the Flight 37 rescue and completed the critical handling on-site."
Li Xing frowned.
"What about 'led'?"
Edgar said.
"Don't write it."
Edgar continued.
"But the press conference talking points can be orally emphasized by Madelyn Stillwell: the on-site judgment came from Homelander."
"This is enough for the media to understand."
Madelyn Stillwell reacted immediately.
No handle left in writing, honor given to Homelanderorally.
Homelander gets face.
Vought maintains its structure.
Li Xing didn't speak immediately.
Continuing to push would get more things out.
But the situation would turn into a direct confrontation.
Now is not the time.
An old fox like Edgar, by taking a step back on the surface, would strike ten times in the dark.
Li Xing looked at Homelander.
"What do you think?"
Homelander didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the phone and suddenly laughed.
"I don't like it."
"But I can accept it for now."
For now.
Madelyn Stillwell's fingers tightened.
Edgar, however, was calm.
"A wise choice."
Homelander sneered.
"Don't talk to me in that tone."
The other end paused for half a second.
"Then that's all."
The call ended.
Tonight didn't spiral completely out of control.
Li Xing stubbed out his cigarette.
"When is the press conference?"
Ashley immediately looked at Madelyn Stillwell.
Madelyn Stillwell said.
"In thirty minutes."
"Vought hero successfully prevents Flight 37 tragedy."
Li Xing nodded.
Madelyn Stillwell continued.
"Homelander made a decisive contribution in this operation and completed the critical handling based on the on-site situation."
"I will say in front of the cameras, John, you saved that plane."
Homelander stared at her.
A few seconds later, he smiled.
"Very good."
Chapter 22: The Mysterious Asian Woman
Thirty minutes later.
Vought Tower, first-floor press room.
The lights had been turned up to their brightest.
Cold white beams of light washed over the blue and white backdrop, and that line of large text shone blindingly bright.
"Vought Heroes Successfully Resolve Flight 37 Crisis"
The hall was packed with reporters.
Voices, shutter clicks, and the sound of equipment being adjusted all blended together, pressing tight against everyone's eardrums.
Cameras were set up in rows, a sea of black lenses aimed at the stage.
Madelyn Stillwell stood at the side of the stage, looking down at her cue cards.
There was no excess expression on her face.
Ashley stood nearby, her voice kept very low, but her speaking speed was getting faster and faster.
"The photos have already spread."
"The group photo uploaded by that little boy has surpassed a million reposts in ten minutes."
"The number one topic is Homelander's rescue."
"The second is Li Xing and the dog."
She paused for a moment.
"The third is why that dog had its face blurred."
Madelyn Stillwell looked up.
Not far from the side of the stage, Bibi Labu was squatting by Li Xing's feet, a Vought blue bow tie temporarily wrapped around its neck.
The bow tie was tied very neatly.
Its face looked as sour as if someone had just owed it eight million dollars.
"What about canine rights?"
"Why does Homelander get to wear a cape while I have to wear a bow tie?"
"This thing is choking me so much I want to die."
Li Xing looked down at it.
"You know, you actually look pretty funny wearing this."
Bibi Labu's face fell, and it turned its head away directly.
It didn't want to talk to him.
Homelander stood in the center of the press room.
His cape was smooth.
His hair had been recombed.
The shadows, loss of control, and annoyance on his face had all been covered up by the lights and his smile.
The moment the cameras lit up, he turned back into that most perfect hero in America.
Perfect, without a single crack.
Madelyn Stillwell walked onto the stage.
She didn't waste words.
She didn't need to, either.
She stood at the microphone, her gaze sweeping steadily across the room.
"Tonight, Flight 37 encountered a serious terrorist hijacking."
"After the crisis occurred, Homelander arrived at the scene immediately."
"He made a critical judgment based on the situation on-site and completed a decisive rescue."
"Mr. Li assisted in the handling of the situation, ensuring the safety of the passengers."
As her voice fell, the flashes instantly merged into one.
Reporters raised their hands almost simultaneously.
The first reporter stood up.
"Ms. Vice President, can this be understood as the operation not having gone through Vought's standard protocols?"
When this question dropped, the audience was silent for a moment.
All the cameras pushed forward.
Madelyn Stillwell smiled.
That smile was as precise as if the angle had been calculated in advance.
"Crises do not wait for protocols."
"The meaning of a hero's existence is to reach lives before the protocols do."
The reporters lowered their heads to record.
The sound of keyboards immediately rang out in unison.
Homelander listened with satisfaction.
His smile became a little more natural.
Li Xing leaned against the side of the stage and also smiled.
This woman really knows how to talk.
She could paint a rotten plank to look like an aircraft carrier deck.
The second reporter stood up.
"Mr. Homelander, may I ask why you decided to mobilize at that time?"
Homelander walked to the microphone.
He first glanced at the audience.
Then he glanced at Li Xing.
After a brief pause, he spoke.
"Because someone needed me."
The hall quieted down.
Homelander's voice was not loud, but it steadily suppressed all the noise.
"There were children, parents, and people returning home on that plane."
"They are not data."
"They are Americans."
Applause rang out.
First from Madelyn Stillwell.
Then from the Vought employees.
And then, from the reporters.
The applause grew denser and louder.
Li Xing held an unlit cigarette in his mouth, leaning to the side without moving.
Bibi Labu looked up at him.
"Who wrote this script? It's got some substance."
Li Xing said.
"It's not a script."
Bibi Labu was stunned.
Li Xing smiled.
"He really thinks that."
It's just that what Homelander cares about isn't "they are Americans."
It's "they need me."
The press conference proceeded very smoothly.
Madelyn Stillwell minimized the death toll as "unavoidable on-site casualties."
She explained the damage to the cabin as "the necessary cost of rapid intervention at high altitude."
She packaged Li Xing's brutal handling as "precise control in an extreme environment."
Every word was clean.
Clean enough that no blood could be seen.
When it was Li Xing's turn to speak, the audience became visibly restless.
A few reporters exchanged glances.
Someone already had their hand on their voice recorder.
A reporter stood up.
"Mr. Li, some passengers claim you killed the hijackers in an extremely brutal manner inside the cabin."
"How do you respond to this?"
Li Xing walked to the microphone.
He looked at that reporter.
He didn't smile.
"He hijacked the plane."
"I killed him."
"Do you have a problem with that?"
The reporter's face stiffened.
Li Xing stared at him, his voice as flat as if he were talking about a trivial matter.
"Next time you're on a plane and encounter a hijacker, I can ask him if he had a happy childhood first."
"Then ask if he has any psychological trauma."
"Finally, I'll hand the microphone to you so you can conduct an on-site interview."
I don't know who couldn't hold it in first and let out a laugh.
Others gradually started to chuckle in the back.
The corner of Madelyn Stillwell's eye twitched slightly.
Homelander laughed heartily.
Bibi Labu immediately jumped to the edge of the stage and started barking wildly.
"And me!"
"Ask me!"
Ashley's face turned green.
Madelyn Stillwell quickly took the microphone, her voice still steady.
"What Mr. Li means is that Vought heroes will terminate threats in the shortest possible time."
Li Xing nodded.
"Right, she translated that more politely."
A burst of laughter rang out in the press room again.
This press conference finally ended with Homelander's applause.
The microphone was never handed to Bibi Labu from beginning to end.
News headlines flooded the entire internet within ten minutes.
"Homelander Returns to His Peak"
"Flight 37 Miracle"
"New Vought Member Li Xing's Controversial Statement: Do You Have a Problem With That?"
"Can That Dog Actually Talk?"
"Vought Refuses to Respond to Reason for Blurring Dog's Face"
Vought won.
Homelander won.
Madelyn Stillwell also won.
Chapter 23: Three Pigs
As for The Boys.
Under the overpass.
In the direction Kimiko had disappeared, only a trail of wet footprints remained.
MM chased to the edge of the fence, his muzzle still raised.
Frenchie stood behind him, breathing heavily.
Hughie clutched his chest and scrambled up from the ground, his face as pale as if he had just come from the morgue.
"She nearly kicked my lungs out of my body just now."
"I'm having a little trouble breathing right now."
Frenchie looked back at him.
"She didn't mean to kill you."
Hughie's eyes widened.
"Then was she trying to give me a chest massage?"
MM turned sharply, his muzzle pointing at Frenchie's feet.
"Why the fuck did you open the cage just now?"
Frenchie looked at him.
"They had her locked up."
MM lowered his voice.
"So what?"
"You don't even know who she is, you don't know if she's killed anyone! You don't know if she's with Vought International! And you just let her out?"
Frenchie stepped forward.
"She's a victim."
MM grabbed him by the collar.
"A victim just killed three people."
"Without mercy. If we hadn't reacted quickly..."
"We would have died in there too."
Frenchie didn't dodge.
The blood on his face hadn't been wiped clean.
"Those three bastards locked her in a cage, like a dog."
Hughie coughed twice and said in a low voice.
"Dogs might not agree with that statement."
No one paid him any mind.
MM stared at Frenchie.
"You do this every time."
"Never planning ahead."
"Sooner or later, you're going to get us all killed."
Frenchie's eyes changed instantly.
"You're so wound up your asshole is clenched tight. You need to relax."
MM sneered.
"You need to lick my clenched asshole."
"Motherfucker."
As those words landed.
Frenchie's fists clenched.
The atmosphere instantly tightened.
Hughie hurriedly reached out.
"Hey, hey, shouldn't we be leaving now?"
"There are still bodies inside, a lot of bodies, the kind that will make the police ask a lot of questions."
Frenchie didn't look at Hughie.
MM didn't let go either.
The next second, a lazy British accent came from the alley entrance.
"Yo, is the family drama over?"
All three turned around at the same time.
Butcher stood under a streetlight, his black trench coat open, carrying a bag of fries in his hand.
He glanced into the distance.
"Ran pretty fast."
MM let go of Frenchie.
"Where did you go?"
Butcher shoved a fry into his mouth.
"Working."
"What about you guys?"
He tilted his head toward the basement.
"I told you to find compound v, not open an animal shelter."
Frenchie looked at him coldly.
"She's not an animal."
Butcher laughed.
"Of course not."
"Animals usually don't rip people's hearts out."
"In the physical sense."
Frenchie stepped forward.
"Say that again."
"Frenchie, you want to fight me now?"
Butcher looked at him, his smile unchanged.
"Great."
"After we're done, we'll go to the police station together and tell them those scraps of meat in the basement are an art exhibit."
MM said in a low voice.
"Enough."
Butcher threw the bag of fries to Hughie.
Hughie caught it instinctively.
"Eat something. Your face looks like Homelander just kissed you."
Hughie looked down at the fries, then back up.
"I'm not very hungry right now."
Butcher said softly.
"Then just hold it."
"At least you'll look like a useless ordinary person."
Hughie opened his mouth.
He wanted to retort.
But he found it hard to argue with that.
He really was a loser, wasn't he...
Butcher walked between MM and Frenchie.
"Listen."
"That woman is a Superhuman."
"She must have compound v on her."
"Someone locked her here. I just found syringes inside."
"If I'm not mistaken, Vought International shipped compound v here and injected it into this woman's body."
"This isn't a random incident."
Butcher pointed at Frenchie.
"You let the lead get away."
He pointed at MM again.
"You didn't stop her."
Finally, he looked at Hughie.
"You got kicked away."
Hughie raised his hand.
"I shouldn't be primarily responsible for that, right?"
Butcher ignored him.
"So, tonight, none of you are any different from a pig."
"Don't argue about who's stupider."
Frenchie lowered his head and took that torn piece of paper out of his pocket.
"I found this."
MM's gaze fell upon it.
There was a line of text on the paper.
[Pennsylvania Station]
Butcher took the paper and narrowed his eyes.
"That's it, at least we have a lead."
"Now we have something more important to do, before The Seven find that Asian woman."
"We have to be one step faster."
Just as everyone had clarified their next direction, Hughie's phone suddenly rang.
Everyone in the alley looked at him at the same time.
Hughie scrambled to pull out his phone.
The screen lit up.
[Annie: Are you okay? I want to see you.]
Butcher narrowed his eyes.
"Who?"
Hughie immediately pressed the phone against his chest.
"No one."
Butcher laughed.
"No one sends you 'I want to see you' in the middle of the night."
Hughie's face flushed red.
"Just a friend."
MM glanced at him.
Frenchie also glanced at him.
Butcher laughed even more happily.
"A friend?"
"You're friends with Starlight?"
Hughie froze.
"How do you know?"
Butcher shrugged.
"I mentioned her just now, and your expression was like a golden retriever in heat."
Hughie got anxious.
"It's not what you think."
Butcher stepped closer.
"Then what is it?"
Hughie's voice lowered.
"We... we just get along well."
Butcher stared at him.
"Great."
"Go on a date with her tomorrow."
Hughie was stunned.
"What?"
Butcher took a small black patch out of his pocket.
"Put this in her phone."
Hughie's expression changed.
"No."
Butcher raised an eyebrow.
"I haven't finished yet."
Hughie gripped his phone tightly.
"I know what you're going to say."
"I won't bug her."
Butcher's smile faded.
"She's a member of The Seven."
"She can access Vought International internal information."
"She can access Li Xing and Homelander."
"She might even know the flow of compound v."
Hughie shook his head.
"She's not like them."
Butcher's voice lowered.
"Your girlfriend Robin wasn't that kind of person either."
Hughie's body stiffened.
MM frowned.
"Butcher."
Butcher didn't stop.
"And what happened?"
"She was turned into a pile of meat by A-Train."
"Vought International gave you a check to keep you quiet."
"Now you have a chance to stick the knife back in, and you're telling me you don't want to hurt a superhero's feelings?"
"Are you a fucking idiot?"
Hughie's eyes reddened.
"Annie is not A-Train."
Butcher shoved the bug into his hand.
"Then prove it to me."
"If she's clean, the bug won't hear anything."
"If she's not clean, at least you won't die like an idiot."
Hughie looked down at the black patch in his hand.
It was very light.
As light as a piece of trash.
But he felt his palm burning.
Frenchie said softly.
"Petit Hughie, love and war are both dirty."
MM looked at Butcher.
"You're pushing too hard."
Butcher turned and walked toward the car, saying with a half-smile.
"I'm not pushing."
"And it's not hard."
Hughie stood there, not moving for a long time.
The phone vibrated again.
[Annie: Tomorrow afternoon, that bowling alley in Queens, is that okay?]
Hughie closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, he replied.
[Okay.]
...
The next afternoon.
Queens.
A bowling alley was hidden between a laundromat and a convenience store.
A corner of the sign at the entrance had fallen off.
It was very smoky inside, and faded boxing posters were plastered on the walls.
Hughie arrived twenty minutes early.
He wore a clean jacket, and his hair was combed neater than usual.
In his pocket was the bug Butcher had given him.
He sat in a corner, his fingers constantly touching the thing.
Take it out.
Put it back.
Take it out again.
He was like a student preparing to cheat but afraid of being seen by the teacher.
The doorbell rang.
Hughie looked up immediately.
It wasn't Starlight who came in.
It was Li Xing.
He was wearing a black shirt with a dark gray trench coat over it, and he was holding Bibi Labu by the hand.
Bibi Labu had an unlit cigar in his mouth and started cursing as soon as he entered.
"This place reeks."
"Like a cup that's been jerked off into dozens of times and never washed."
"Have you jerked off before? You know so much about it."
Hughie froze completely.
Li Xing saw him and smiled.
"What a coincidence."
Hughie didn't know whether to stand or sit.
"You... why are you here?"
Li Xing walked to the side and picked up a bowling ball.
"Bowling."
Bibi Labu jumped onto a chair.
"Oh, isn't this our pure-hearted little boy, Hughie."
Hughie gave a dry laugh.
"I thought you guys in The Seven would go to a more upscale place."
Li Xing leaned over to aim at the pins in the distance.
"Upscale places have too much surveillance."
"This place is good."
"Suitable for dates, deals, blackmail, betrayal."
Snap.
The bowling ball knocked down all the pins.
Hughie's expression changed.
Li Xing looked up at him.
"Why is your face so pale?"
"Didn't sleep well last night?"
Hughie's throat moved.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Bibi Labu rolled his eyes.
"Bro, with your acting skills, if you went to Vought International to be a hero, you'd be cast as a corpse."
"It's too pathetic."
Li Xing smiled.
Hughie instinctively reached for his pocket.
Li Xing's gaze fell on his hand.
"Don't be nervous."
"I'm not going to take your stuff."
"That thing in your pocket is useless to me."
Hughie's pupils constricted.
He knew.
He knew about the bug.
Hughie broke into a sweat on his back.
Li Xing leaned against the bowling table, his voice not loud.
"Did Butcher send you?"
Hughie didn't answer.
Li Xing nodded.
"Looks like it."
Bibi Labu shook his claws.
"The British guy is really unrefined."
"Making a pure-love warrior do spy work."
Hughie gritted his teeth.
"What exactly do you want?"
Li Xing looked at him.
"Just a reminder."
"Annie is smarter than you think."
"If you install the device, she might not discover it immediately."
"But she will discover it one day."
Hughie's expression became even worse.
Li Xing continued.
"How will you explain it then?"
"Say you love her?"
"Say you had no choice?"
"Say Butcher forced you?"
He smiled.
"All these things are true."
"But the truth doesn't necessarily save a relationship."
Hughie clenched his fists.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Li Xing picked up a piece of chalk and slowly rubbed the tip of the cue.
"Because I want to see what you choose."
Hughie was stunned.
Li Xing looked toward the door.
"The most interesting thing about this world is when good people are forced to do bad things."
"Bad people doing bad things is boring."
"Too normal."
Bibi Labu nodded.
"Right, like when Li Xing kills someone, everyone just says he's performing consistently today."
"Even if he rides an old lady across the street, everyone will think it's only natural."
"But if one day everyone hears that Li Xing helped an old lady across the street, everyone will just think the world has gone crazy."
Hughie said in a low voice.
"You're crazy."
Li Xing laughed.
"We'll see each other again."
The doorbell rang again.
Starlight walked in.
She was wearing casual clothes, her cap pulled down very low.
When she saw Hughie, her eyes lit up.
Then she saw Li Xing.
That light stopped.
Starlight stood at the door, her hand slowly sliding into her pocket.
Li Xing leaned against the wall.
"Good afternoon, Annie."
Chapter 24: The Card Game
Starlight stood at the entrance of the bowling alley, her gaze shifting from Hughie to Li Xing.
"Do you two know each other?"
Li Xing shrugged.
"Not really."
Li Xing gave the bowling ball a push, and it rolled along the gutter into the return slot.
"Just happened to be passing by, playing a couple of games."
Bibi Labu jumped down from the chair and circled around Starlight's feet.
"A beauty has arrived, and the air even smells better."
"Unlike some people who carry a stench of smoke wherever they go."
"You call this a beauty? If you don't need your eyes, you can donate them."
Li Xing stepped on it.
Bibi Labu shrieked and darted away.
Starlight looked at them, her expression somewhat complex.
She still remembered their conversation in the dark alley last time.
Li Xing said he would help her.
But she still wasn't sure who exactly this person was helping.
Li Xing seemed to see through her thoughts and picked up his trench coat, putting it on.
"Relax, Annie."
"I'm heading out."
"You two chat."
He picked up Bibi Labu and walked toward the door.
As he passed by Hughie, he didn't stop, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear.
"Don't screw this up."
Hughie stiffened slightly.
The doorbell chimed.
Li Xing disappeared around the street corner with the dog.
Only Hughie and Starlight remained in the bowling alley.
Starlight sat down opposite him, took off her hat, and her golden hair cascaded down.
She looked at the door.
"How do you know him?"
Hughie rubbed his hands together.
"I ran into him when I was buying some electronic components earlier."
"He was picking out items in the store, and I recommended a Bluetooth headset to him."
Starlight frowned.
"Li Xing? Buying a Bluetooth headset?"
Hughie nodded, very quickly.
"Yeah, for his dog."
It was a lousy excuse, but Starlight believed it.
She recalled Bibi Labu's punchable face and thought that dog really did look like the type that would wear a Bluetooth headset to listen to podcasts.
Starlight carefully considered her wording.
"What do you think of…"
"...him?"
Hughie thought for a moment, recalling the way Popclawhad died that day.
Hughie swallowed hard.
"Pretty… kind."
The image of Li Xing watching the show that day flashed through Starlight's mind, but she didn't refute him.
The two were silent for a few seconds.
Hughie stood up, walked to the side of the lane, picked up a pink bowling ball, and handed it to her.
"Want to play a game?"
Starlight took the ball, looked at the faded cartoon unicorn printed on its surface, and couldn't help but smile.
This was her first genuine smile of the day.
The two played three games.
Starlight scored two strikes.
Hughie didn't score any.
The ball either veered into the gutter or sluggishly scraped along, knocking down only two or three pins.
Starlight laughed until she was doubled over.
Hughie laughed along with her.
He hadn't laughed in a long time.
Ever since Robin's accident, he thought he would never feel this way again.
The two sat back on the chairs to rest, Starlight drinking orange juice bought from a vending machine, Hughiedrinking water.
"There's an event in a few days."
"What event?"
"The Faith Expo."
Starlight's tone flattened.
"Vought arranged it. Homelander and I are giving a speech on stage together."
Hughie turned to look at her.
"You and Homelander?"
Starlight nodded.
"Madelyn Stillwell's idea is that after Flight 37 and the stadium speech, Homelander's popularity has skyrocketed, and they need to strike while the iron is hot to consolidate his image."
"I'm responsible for the warm-up, and then Homelandertakes the stage."
"The script is already written; I just have to read it."
She stirred the orange juice at the bottom of the cup with a straw.
"About faith, courage, God's plan."
"It's all nonsense."
Hughie looked at her profile.
"Then why are you still going?"
Starlight was silent for a moment.
"Because there are thousands of ordinary people sitting in the audience. They bought tickets to come in, truly believing that someone will speak up for them."
"If I don't go, the only one standing there will be Homelander."
"He will tell them that everything is fine, America is very safe, and Vought is protecting you."
"And those people will actually believe it."
Hughie stared at her.
He suddenly felt that this world was absurd.
All Superhumans were acting, putting on shows, using hypocrisy to trade for traffic.
Only the person in front of him, dressed in casual clothes, sitting in a dilapidated bowling alley drinking inferior orange juice, was still seriously thinking about those people in the audience she didn't even know.
"Annie."
"Hm?"
"You are the… most like a superhero of anyone I've ever met."
Starlight froze for a moment.
She looked into Hughie's eyes.
In those eyes, there were no calculations of interest, no ulterior motives, only the most simple respect from one person to another.
Starlight lowered her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling up.
"You're the first person to say that."
Hughie smiled.
"Because most people are too busy praising Homelander."
Starlight was amused by his words.
Their laughter echoed in the empty bowling alley.
A moment later, Starlight stood up.
"I'm going to the restroom."
"Okay."
Starlight turned and walked toward the end of the hallway.
Hughie sat on the chair alone.
The smile vanished.
He looked down at his right pants pocket.
The black patch Butcher gave him was still inside.
He could feel the object against his thigh, small, thin, like a bandage.
He closed his eyes.
Butcher's words played repeatedly in his mind.
"If she's clean, the bug won't hear anything."
Hughie opened his eyes.
Starlight's phone was on the table, screen face down, next to the unfinished cup of orange juice.
He looked up toward the hallway.
It was empty.
He reached into his pants pocket, the patch pinched between his fingertips.
He picked up Starlight's phone, quickly pulled out the patch, and brought the patch and the phone together.
The screen of the phone quickly displayed the installation interface for the monitoring plugin.
Hughie's fingers were trembling, his palms full of sweat.
The plugin installed very quickly; in a few seconds, the phone screen went dark again.
Hughie leaned back into the chair, staring at the ceiling, his stomach churning.
What had he just done?
He had done the dirtiest thing to someone who trusted him.
Footsteps came from the hallway.
Starlight walked back and sat down opposite him.
"You don't look so good."
Hughie forced a smile.
"Maybe I put too much effort into bowling just now."
Starlight tilted her head to look at him.
"You didn't hit a single one."
"...I put effort into it mentally."
Starlight didn't press further; she picked up her phone and checked the time.
"I have to go. Let's hang out again when there's a chance."
Hughie stood up.
"I'll walk you out."
"No need."
Starlight put on her hat, walked to the door, and suddenly turned back.
"Hughie."
"Hm?"
"Thank you for what you said today."
She pushed the door open and stepped into the afternoon sunlight.
The doorbell rang one last time.
Hughie stood in the empty bowling alley, motionless.
He still couldn't believe what he had just done.
...
Street corner.
Li Xing leaned against a street tree, a cigarette between his fingers, whistling a vulgar tune.
Bibi Labu squatted at his feet, chewing on half a hot dog fished out of a trash can.
"Did he install it?"
Bibi Labu chewed the hot dog, sounding garbled.
"How long were you watching?"
Li Xing exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"From start to finish."
Just now in the bowling alley, Li Xing hadn't really left.
He walked out the front door, circled to the back alley, and leaned against the base of the wall.
A drop of water dripped from his right index finger.
The water drop seeped into the building along the cracks in the wall, crawled across the ceiling along the pipes, and finally transformed into a thumb-sized transparent water-hand, which also had a small eyeball, hanging on the grille of the bowling alley's ventilation duct.
He saw everything.
Hughie's hesitant hand, Starlight's phone on the table, the moment the monitoring plugin finished installing.
The water-hand dropped from the vent, landed on the floor, silently slid across the soles of Hughie's shoes, and climbed up his pant leg.
Hughie didn't feel a thing.
He was full of guilt at the time.
The water-hand hooked the patch out of his pocket, the thin black chip wrapped in a film of water, sliding down the chair leg to the floor, then flowing along the wall corner out the back door, and flowing to Li Xing's feet.
The water film ruptured, and the patch landed in Li Xing's palm.
Then the water-hand turned back.
It climbed onto Hughie's body again, this time, the target was Hughie's own phone.
The phone was in his left pocket; the water-hand squeezed in through the gap and seeped a tiny thread of water into the charging port.
The water thread solidified inside the port for a second, pressing down on the internal contacts—this wasn't physical bugging, but a method Li Xing had stolen from the technical department over the past three years while cleaning up Vought's messes.
By manipulating the distribution of trace water molecules inside the phone, he formed a temporary conductive circuit on the motherboard.
It was equivalent to a hardware-level backdoor.
He only needed to go back and calibrate the frequency band using Vought's decoding equipment, and every message, every call, and every location on Hughie's phone would be synchronized to Li Xing's phone.
After completing the task, the water-hand dissolved into water vapor and dissipated through the fibers of the clothing.
The entire process took less than nine seconds.
Hughie didn't notice anything from beginning to end.
Li Xing flipped the patch in his hand over.
Butcher was using a military-grade eavesdropping chip.
Frequency encryption, signal frequency hopping; after taking it back to decode, as long as the plugin in Starlight's phone was still working, her call content would also be synchronized over.
Killing three birds with one stone.
Monitoring Starlight, monitoring Hughie, monitoring The Boys…
He didn't need to install anything himself.
Butcher installed it for him, and Hughie delivered it for him.
Li Xing put the patch into his cigarette case and shoved it back into his inner pocket.
Bibi Labu swallowed the last bite of the hot dog and licked his mouth.
"You're really fucking insidious."
Li Xing smiled.
"Thanks for the compliment."
Bibi Labu twitched his ears.
"That kid is pretty pitiful."
"He was almost crying, you know?"
Li Xing crushed out the cigarette butt.
"Pitiful? You won't feel that way when he briefly becomes a Superhuman in the future."
Li Xing picked up Bibi Labu and walked across the street.
"Let's go."
"Where to?"
"Home to decode."
"And check the security plan for the Faith Expo while I'm at it."
Bibi Labu paused.
"The Expo? Isn't that Homelander and Starlight's event?"
"What does that have to do with you?"
Li Xing didn't answer.
He walked in the afternoon sun, his shadow dragging long behind him.
Butcher thought he was setting the stage.
Hughie thought he was making a sacrifice.
Starlight thought she had made a friend.
No one knew that everyone's chessboard was laid out on the same table.
And there was only one person watching the cards.
Chapter 25: Going to Watch a Show, Brother.
Two hours later.
A gray van stopped at the intersection in Chinatown.
The rain had just stopped.
The street-side neon lights reflected in the puddles, red and green, a chaotic mess.
Butcher sat in the passenger seat, his phone screen lit up.
On it was a photo of the crime scene.
A nail and beauty salon.
The glass door was half-open.
The floor was covered in blood.
Butcher stared for three seconds, then handed the phone to the back seat.
"Found it."
Frenchie took the phone and glanced at it.
MM turned back from the driver's seat.
"Address."
Butcher read out the location.
Without a word, MM stepped on the gas.
The car drove through two streets and stopped outside a small shop.
The sign read.
[Zhou's Nails]
Below it was a line of crooked English.
Nail Beauty Spa.
Two police cars were already parked in front of the shop.
The red and blue lights flashed silently.
A few patrol officers had put up caution tape.
There was also a young officer standing at the door, pale-faced, as if he had just vomited.
Butcher took a look.
"They got here pretty fast."
MM frowned.
"Too fast."
Frenchie stared at the shop door, his hand already reaching inside his jacket.
Butcher pushed the door open and got out.
"Don't be nervous."
"Just because we dress like bad guys doesn't mean we can't play the good guys."
The three of them walked toward the caution tape.
The patrol officer at the door immediately raised his hand.
"Hey, sir, you can't go in here."
Butcher pulled an old ID card from his pocket and flashed it.
The movement was quick.
So quick that the other person didn't even see it clearly.
"Federal."
The patrol officer was stunned.
MM followed, his expression as cold as if it were real.
"Who arrived at the scene first?"
The patrol officer stood up straight instinctively.
"Uh... we received an anonymous tip and arrived five minutes ago."
Butcher lifted the caution tape.
"Good."
The patrol officer looked at the three of them, hesitating for a moment.
"Are you... plainclothes?"
Butcher turned back, flashing an unfriendly smile.
"Take a guess."
The patrol officer shut his mouth.
The three of them slipped into the shop.
As soon as they entered, the smell of blood hit them.
Manicure tables were overturned everywhere.
Nail polish bottles were shattered, red, purple, and glittery colors mixed with the blood.
The price list on the wall was splattered with blood.
A woman lay in the back room.
Her face was unrecognizable.
Her features were a bloody pulp, impossible to distinguish.
Her clothes were torn open, her entire abdomen exposed, revealing a huge bloody hole.
An old police officer stood nearby, covering his nose with a handkerchief.
He saw Butcher and the others enter and immediately asked.
"Which side are you from?"
MM spoke first.
"We're taking over the case now."
The old officer looked at him, then at Butcher.
Butcher was already squatting beside the body, as if he didn't care about him at all.
This attitude made the old officer hesitate instead.
He had been on the job for twenty years and had seen too many people like this.
They didn't look like police.
But they looked even less like ordinary people.
The old officer finally took a step back.
"Fine, hurry up. The reporters haven't arrived yet, but this street can't keep secrets."
Butcher didn't look up.
"Then tell your people to stay away from the body and stop turning the floor into a kennel."
The old officer's face darkened.
MM looked at him.
"Cooperate."
The old officer cursed, turned around, and shooed the two patrol officers to the door.
Butcher looked at the body.
"Lopota Zhou."
MM flipped open the ID bag next to the counter.
"The owner."
"Chinese descent, forty-six years old."
He looked at a few more documents.
"There's a record of an immigration agency."
Butcher looked up.
"Agency?"
MM nodded.
"A smuggling chain in the Pacific region."
"Vietnam, Philippines, Cambodia, Southern Long Country."
"Stuffing people into cargo containers and sending them to New York."
Frenchie walked to the back door.
There was a scratch there.
Very deep.
Like someone had dug their fingers straight into the wood.
He reached out to touch it, and his fingertips got a bit of blood on them.
"She was here."
MM looked at him but didn't respond.
Frenchie crouched down.
On the ground next to the back door, there was a faint set of footprints.
The footprints were mixed with blood, but the direction was clear.
Coming in from the back alley.
To the cash register.
Then to the cabinet by the wall.
Finally leaving.
Frenchie's eyes flickered.
Pennsylvania Station!
"That piece of paper from last night."
Butcher pulled the torn paper from his pocket.
Frenchie said in a low voice.
"She wants to go home."
Butcher looked at him.
"Looks like everyone is still somewhat useful."
"But be careful, she kills without blinking now."
Frenchie looked up.
His eyes were cold.
But he didn't argue.
MM glanced at the corpse.
"Quiet."
"There's movement outside."
A sudden screech of brakes came from the shop entrance.
Several patrol officers' voices rang out at the same time.
"Hey!"
"Sir, you can't go in!"
The next second.
A gust of wind swept by.
The bead curtain hanging in the shop swayed violently.
The caution tape at the door snapped in the wind.
A man in a blue and silver tight combat suit stood at the shop entrance.
A-Train.
He was wearing sunglasses.
He was holding a cup of coffee in his hand.
He looked like he had just gotten off work from an ad shoot.
Several police officers froze outside.
No one dared to stop him.
A-Train took off his sunglasses, saw the body, and frowned.
Not out of fear.
But out of annoyance.
Butcher immediately retreated behind a shelf.
MM grabbed Frenchie and pulled him behind a foot bath chair.
The three of them hid in the shadows.
"Damn it."
He crouched down and flipped through the shredded paper on the floor.
Then he pulled open the counter drawer.
He was fast.
But his hands were shaking slightly.
He wasn't investigating the case.
He was looking for something.
The old police officer at the door poked his head in.
"Mr. A-Train? We need you—"
A-Train turned his head sharply.
"Give me 10 seconds."
The old officer's face froze instantly.
A-Train stared at him.
"This place is under Vought's jurisdiction now."
The old officer opened his mouth.
But he didn't dare to say anything more.
But A-Train searched for a long time and didn't find a single clue.
A-Train took a deep breath, knowing things were already going south.
"Shit, shit..."
A-Train stood there, as if thinking for a second.
The next moment.
Whoosh.
He disappeared from the shop.
The bead curtain was still swaying.
The coffee cup remained on the counter, the paper cup crushed halfway.
The patrol officers outside hadn't even reacted; they only felt a gust of wind sweep past them.
A few seconds later.
Butcher walked out from behind the shelf.
"See that?"
MM also walked out.
"Vought sent A-Train."
"This woman is more trouble than we thought."
Frenchie stared at the door.
"They're going to kill her."
Butcher turned back.
"Of course they are."
"A Superhuman experiment that escaped from the smuggling chain."
"If she has evidence of compound v on her, Vought will have to drop their pants on live TV."
MM understood immediately.
"Then she will be the key evidence for us to take down Vought."
Butcher smiled.
"We must find her faster."
MM looked at the police outside.
"Is there a possibility that Li Xing and Homelander know we're looking for that woman?"
Butcher's smile faded a bit.
Frenchie picked up an unbroken bottle of nail polish.
There was blood on the cap.
He looked at it and stuffed it into his pocket.
MM saw it but didn't say anything.
Butcher scoffed.
"So romantic."
Frenchie just looked at him.
Butcher walked to the door and lifted the caution tape.
"I get it."
"My wife was destroyed by a Superhuman too."
Frenchie stopped.
Butcher turned his head.
The trace of a smile on his face was gone.
"So don't think of monsters as too pitiful."
"Pity can't save anyone."
"Bullets can."
Frenchie said, word for word.
"She is not a monster."
Butcher looked at him for a while.
"Then pray that when she pounces next time, she recognizes your lovesick face."
The three of them walked out of the shop.
The old officer stopped them.
"Hey, wait, which unit are you actually from? I need badge numbers."
Butcher stopped.
He looked at the old officer.
"What you need is to forget you ever saw us."
The old officer's expression changed.
"Are you threatening a police officer?"
MM stepped forward, lowering his voice.
"Listen, Vought people came to this place tonight, and so did we."
"If you still want to go home and eat breakfast, write the report as a gang feud and wait for the higher-ups to take over."
The old officer looked at MM.
MM's tone was steady.
It didn't sound like a threat.
It sounded more like a reminder.
The old officer was silent for two seconds, then finally stepped aside.
"You bastards are going to blow up New York sooner or later."
Butcher smiled.
"Already have, friend."
The three of them got back into the car.
MM started the car.
"Next stop, Pennsylvania Station."
Frenchie sat in the back seat, his fingertips gently rubbing the bottle of nail polish.
The blood on the cap had dried.
He looked out the window, not speaking.
Butcher glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
"You know what to do when we get there, right?"
Frenchie looked up.
"Drive your car, Butcher."
MM said coldly.
"Shut up, both of you."
The van drove away from Chinatown.
The police lights grew more distant in the rear window.
The streets after the rain reflected the light, like the belly of a black fish that had been sliced open.
...
At the same time.
Inside the rental apartment.
Li Xing sat on the sofa with three screens in front of him.
One showed the communication records of Starlight's phone.
One showed the location trajectory of the black van.
The third one was jumping with audio waveforms.
Bibi Labu lay on the table, munching on half a bag of potato chips.
"They went to Chinatown?"
Li Xing grunted in acknowledgment.
Butcher's voice came from the screen.
"Next stop, Pennsylvania Station."
Bibi Labu stopped chewing the chips.
"You going?"
Li Xing opened the cigarette case.
He took out tobacco and rolling paper, slowly replenishing his spiritual sustenance.
"Of course."
Bibi Labu rolled over and sat up.
"No, buddy, what are you going there for now?"
Li Xing picked up his jacket.
"A-Train is going, and The Boys are there too. How can we miss such a lively scene?"
"Not to mention Kimiko will be ripping hearts and lungs out."
"This place sounds like a mass casualty team-building event."
Bibi Labu picked up the chip bag in its mouth.
"Can you not bring the dog? I still want to live a little longer."
"I finally made it, I don't want to die yet."
Li Xing looked at it and didn't speak.
Bibi Labu sighed.
"Got it, father knows best."
"You can't do it without me."
...
Pennsylvania Station was overcrowded, and Kimiko was still fleeing through the crowd.
Crowds, tracks, underground passages.
Perfect for escaping.
Also perfect for an ambush.
And even better for watching a show.