Chapter 8: The Suspicious Butcher
POV: Ben
The abandoned electronics factory in Newark smells of rust and secrets, fluorescent lights flickering over machinery that died when manufacturing moved to countries where enhanced individuals aren't required to follow labor laws.
Hughie leads Ben through industrial debris with the particular hesitancy of someone who's learned that trust can be weaponized by people with better training and worse intentions. Three days have passed since Popclaw became his second shadow, and Ben's danger sense has been pinging continuously—low-level warnings that suggest he's being watched by professionals who know how to stay invisible.
"The Boys. Has to be. Hughie mentioned them during grief counseling, people who 'understand what it's like' to be hurt by Supes. But understanding and trusting are different species of animal."
"They're... intense," Hughie warns as they approach a door that's been reinforced with enough steel to stop small arms fire. "Billy especially. He doesn't trust anyone, and he's got instincts that border on supernatural."
"Instincts. Which means he'll sense something off about me even if he can't identify what. This is either recruitment or execution disguised as introduction."
Hughie knocks in a pattern that suggests military training rather than casual security. The door opens to reveal a man who looks like violence wrapped in working-class clothing—leather jacket over muscle that's been earned through application rather than vanity, eyes that catalog threats the way accountants catalog expenses.
Billy Butcher studies Ben with intensity that feels like being dissected by someone who's performed enough autopsies to know where the important organs hide. When he speaks, his voice carries the particular accent that comes from places where politeness is luxury and survival is currency.
"Well, well. Hughie's mysterious friend from the grief group." Butcher's smile doesn't reach his eyes, which continue their tactical assessment. "Come to join our little support group, have you?"
"He knows. Doesn't know what, but he knows something's wrong. The way I stand, maybe, or how my eyes track movement patterns. Too controlled for someone whose only qualification is losing family to Supe violence."
"Ben Donaven." Ben offers his hand with movements calculated to suggest civilian nervousness rather than tactical assessment. "Hughie said you might have answers about what really happened to Robin."
Butcher's handshake lasts three seconds longer than politeness requires, his grip testing for enhanced strength while his eyes watch for micro-expressions that suggest enhanced reflexes. When he releases Ben's hand, his smile has grown sharper but no warmer.
"Answers, right. That's what we're all looking for, innit?" Butcher steps aside with movements that keep him positioned between Ben and whatever waits deeper in the factory. "Come on then. Meet the lads."
The factory's interior has been converted into operational headquarters that speaks of military budgets and civilian paranoia. Communications equipment that costs more than most people's houses sits next to weapons that aren't available through normal channels. Two men work over laptops and surveillance monitors with the focused intensity of people tracking dangerous animals.
"Frenchie, M.M., meet Ben." Butcher's voice carries undertones that suggest this introduction is as much warning as welcome. "Hughie's friend who's interested in our perspective on Supe-related incidents."
The Frenchman—compact, precise, with fingers that move over electronics like a pianist practicing scales—glances up with curiosity that borders on scientific interest. "Ah, bonjour. You are the one Hughie mentioned, non? From the grief support?"
"Frenchie. Technical specialist. Probably knows seventeen ways to kill people with common household items, but genuinely likes helping his friends. Potential ally if I can earn his trust."
"That's me." Ben manages a smile that suggests he's overwhelmed by the sophistication of their operation. "This is... more than I expected."
"We take our work seriously," says the third man—M.M., according to Butcher's introduction. He's built like someone who's spent years in military service, with the particular bearing that comes from taking orders and giving them with equal competence. "Background checks, surveillance, operational security. Can't be too careful when you're hunting people who can bench-press cars."
"Mother's Milk. The strategist. He's running background checks on his phone right now, looking for inconsistencies in whatever cover identity I've built. Need to be careful not to give him anything that doesn't match."
"Hunting?" Ben lets his voice carry the right mixture of fear and fascination. "I thought this was about investigation. Documentation. Building cases."
Butcher's laugh carries edges sharp enough to cut glass. "Documentation's for people who think the system works. We're past that point, sunshine."
Their tense introduction is interrupted by sounds from deeper in the factory—muffled voices and what sounds like someone testing the structural integrity of whatever's containing them. Butcher's expression shifts from suspicious assessment to operational focus, and he gestures toward a corridor that leads into the building's industrial heart.
"Hughie, show our new friend what we're dealing with. Might help him understand why documentation ain't sufficient."
They walk through corridors lined with surveillance monitors showing different angles of what appears to be a containment area. Ben's danger sense begins screaming warnings that have nothing to do with The Boys and everything to do with whatever they've captured.
"Enhanced individual. Level 30-40, based on the System's readings. Professional-grade, not street-tier like Juice Box or Popclaw. This is Seven territory."
The containment area opens into a space that used to be the factory's main production floor. In the center, surrounded by equipment that looks like it was designed for containing small nuclear devices, sits a cage that holds something invisible but definitely present.
Translucent.
Ben recognizes the voice immediately—petulant, entitled, with the particular whine that comes from someone who's never faced real consequences for anything. The invisible Seven member rattles his cage like an animal, enhanced strength meaning nothing when the containment has been designed by people who understand that enhanced doesn't mean immune to creative engineering.
"How did they capture him? He's Level 40-45, invisible, part of The Seven. These are normal humans with military training. Unless..."
"Impressive, right?" Butcher's voice carries pride mixed with barely contained rage. "One of The Seven, caught like a common criminal. Turns out invisible doesn't mean untrackable if you know what you're looking for."
Ben studies the cage with professional interest, his Weak Point Detection automatically analyzing the containment system. Electric fencing, motion sensors, redundant locking mechanisms—all designed by people who've thought seriously about the physics of holding superhuman prisoners.
"Carbon fiber framework with electrical conductivity throughout the structure. His diamond skin would actually make him more vulnerable to electrical attacks, not less. They figured out his weakness by accident."
"How did you...?" Ben lets his voice trail off in the kind of awe that normal people feel when confronted with proof that gods can bleed.
"Trade secrets," Butcher says with the particular satisfaction that comes from successful predation. "Point is, we've got leverage now. Question is what to do with it."
"Turn him over to authorities?" Ben suggests, playing the role of someone who still believes in systems. "If he's committed crimes, there are legal channels—"
"Legal channels that protect Supes instead of prosecuting them," M.M. interrupts with the bitter accuracy of someone who's tried conventional justice and found it wanting. "Vought owns judges, prosecutors, entire police departments. Legal channels are how they stay untouchable."
"They're right. Which means they're planning something permanent. Murder disguised as justice. The question is whether I can extract him before they blow him apart."
"So what's the alternative?" Ben asks, knowing the answer but needing to hear them say it.
"We kill him." Butcher's voice carries the matter-of-fact certainty of someone who's stopped distinguishing between justice and revenge. "Publicly. Make it clear that Supes bleed just like everyone else."
The cage rattles with renewed violence as Translucent processes what he's hearing. When he speaks, his voice carries the particular panic of someone discovering that being superhuman doesn't make you immortal.
"You can't be serious! I'm a member of The Seven! Vought will tear this city apart looking for me!"
"Let them look," Butcher says with satisfaction that tastes like blood. "Won't change the fact that you're dead."
Ben studies the containment system while they argue about methods and timing, his mind automatically calculating extraction possibilities. Translucent alive is worth massive experience points and a Rare-quality shadow. Dead by The Boys' methods probably means explosives that leave nothing to extract.
"I need him intact for extraction. Which means I need to either help him escape—impossible without revealing my nature—or find a way to kill him myself before they blow him apart."
"The cage is impressive," Ben offers, hoping to buy time for better planning. "But what about long-term containment? Food, medical needs, waste management?"
Frenchie's expression brightens with the particular enthusiasm of technical specialists discussing interesting problems. "Ah, oui, I have considered this. Feeding mechanisms, waste disposal, even entertainment systems if we need to keep him alive for extended periods."
"Extended periods. They're planning to use him as bait or leverage, not just execute him immediately. That gives me time to figure out extraction logistics."
"How long can the power systems maintain containment?" Ben continues, letting genuine engineering curiosity color his questions. "Backup power, redundant systems, that kind of thing?"
M.M. glances up from his phone with the expression of someone whose background checks have revealed interesting inconsistencies. "That's a very specific set of questions for someone whose background is in... what was it? Electronics retail?"
"Shit. Too much technical knowledge. Need to deflect before they start asking questions I can't answer."
"Engineering degree before I went into retail," Ben lies smoothly, letting embarrassment color his voice. "Student loans don't pay themselves, so I took what work I could find. But I still think about systems design."
The explanation satisfies M.M. enough to return his attention to his phone, but Butcher's eyes narrow with the particular suspicion that comes from hearing explanations that answer too many questions at once.
"Engineering, right." Butcher's voice carries undertones that suggest he's filing the information for future consideration. "Useful skill set. Almost like you've thought about this kind of problem before."
"He knows. Doesn't know what, but he knows something's off. Time to give him emotional truth to distract from operational inconsistencies."
"I've thought about a lot of things since my sister died." Ben lets controlled grief color his voice, drawing on memories of Sarah's concern and Maya's warmth to make the fiction feel authentic. "About justice and revenge and the difference between them. About what I'd do if I ever got the chance to make the fuckers pay."
The raw honesty in his voice seems to satisfy Butcher's suspicion, at least temporarily. Here's someone whose anger feels authentic, whose desire for revenge resonates with The Boys' particular brand of vigilante justice.
"Fair enough," Butcher acknowledges. "Question is, what are you willing to do about it? Talking's one thing. Getting your hands dirty is another."
"Test. He's testing whether I'm committed enough to cross lines that normal people won't cross. Whether I'm useful or just another civilian playing at war."
"I'm willing to do whatever it takes," Ben says, meaning it more than Butcher realizes. "As long as it stops them from hurting more people."
"Whatever it takes," Butcher repeats, tasting the words like wine. "We'll see about that, won't we?"
They continue the tour with Butcher pointing out weapons caches, surveillance equipment, and operational plans that speak of military budgets and very illegal intentions. Ben participates with calculated enthusiasm, asking the right questions and expressing appropriate awe while his mind catalogs everything for future use.
"They're professionals. Former military, CIA probably, with access to resources that suggest government backing. But they're also operating outside official channels, which means they're vulnerable to exposure if someone with the right connections decides they're a liability."
As they prepare to leave, Butcher pulls Ben aside with movements that suggest this conversation is the real reason for today's meeting.
"You're not what you seem," Butcher says with the certainty of someone who's spent years reading people for survival purposes. "Question is whether that makes you useful or dangerous."
"Direct confrontation. No point in deflecting—he's already decided I'm hiding something. Better to control the narrative than let him build one from speculation."
"I'm someone who's tired of watching monsters win while good people get buried," Ben says, letting anger color his voice with the particular heat that comes from genuine conviction. "If that makes me dangerous to the right people, I can live with that."
Butcher studies his face for ten heartbeats that feel like hours, then nods with the expression of someone who's decided to gamble on incomplete information.
"Right then. Frenchie will keep an eye on you. Learn the ropes, see how we operate. If you're useful, we'll find work for you. If you're a liability..." Butcher's smile carries implications that don't require elaboration.
"Provisional acceptance. I'm in, but they're watching for signs that I'm more than I claim to be. Need to be careful not to reveal abilities that normal humans don't have."
"I won't let you down," Ben promises, meaning it in ways that would probably disturb them if they understood the full implications.
They exchange contact information and operational protocols while Translucent continues his threats and pleading from the containment area. Ben offers to help with logistics, equipment maintenance, whatever they need from someone with his particular skill set.
Walking home through Newark's industrial wasteland, Ben texts Hughie thanks for the introduction while his shadows scout for surveillance that he's certain is there. His phone shows messages from Maya—three texts asking if he's okay, then silence that probably means she's given up on getting honest answers.
"Butcher won't let suspicion go. He'll investigate, probe, test me until he either confirms I'm useful or decides I'm too dangerous to keep around. The question is whether I can extract Translucent before they blow him apart."
The System pulses with quiet satisfaction, blue text reminding him that opportunities are often disguised as complications.
[QUEST UPDATE: EARN THE BOYS' TRUST (1/5 MILESTONES)]
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: DANGER SENSE LEVEL 1]
[ALERTS WHEN HOSTILE INTENT FOCUSES ON HOST WITHIN 50 METERS]
[CURRENT XP: 95/300 TO LEVEL 6]
Ben disappears into the city's anonymous crowd, just another person walking home from work, while his shadows whisper suggestions about extraction methods and his danger sense continues pinging warnings about watchers who've learned to stay invisible in all the ways that matter.
+1 CHAPTER AFTER EVERY 3 REVIEWS
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron .
Love [ The Boys: Supes Hunter System ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ The Boys: Supes Hunter System ] with exclusive access to 25+ chapters on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse, Breaking Bad , The Walking dead ,The Hobbit,Wednesday].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!