Chapter 104: Butcher’s Reluctance
In just half an hour, videos and photos of the Supe father and son sitting in McDonald’s, eating burgers, went viral across every major short-video platform.
The likes shot past ten million almost instantly.
The comment sections blew up.
"Oh my God! They look so down-to-earth eating fries!"
"I knew Homelander was being smeared by politicians! He’s obviously so approachable!"
"Soldier Boy is badass! Now that’s a real hero for the people!"
A casual fast-food run had, without either of them even realizing it, won this unbeatable father-son duo a flood of goodwill from ordinary Americans all across the country.
...
However, Benjamin was frowning at Homelander.
Because Homelander was looking more and more excited.
In his mind, he stood high above the world, looking down on it all, using his invincible power to protect every obedient subject beneath him.
Everywhere he went, there would be oceans of people cheering for him. They would crawl at his feet, weeping fanatical tears as they cried out his name.
Loved by everyone. Feared by everyone. Needed by everyone.
At the thought, Homelander’s pupils went slightly unfocused, and the corners of his mouth curled upward beyond his control.
"Hey."
A rough, cold voice abruptly snapped him out of the daydream.
Benjamin sat across from him, brow furrowed.
"What the fuck are you thinking about?"
Benjamin didn’t bother hiding the disgust in his voice.
"Why the hell were you just staring at nothing with that gross, about-to-cum look on your face? That was creepy as shit."
Homelander snapped back to himself.
Becoming a god, or whatever, probably wasn’t something Benjamin would look kindly on.
And given the current situation, becoming a god wasn’t all that realistic anyway. His approval rating might have reached its peak, but Homelander was still just a superhero. He wasn’t Jesus.
But maybe, if he did enough good deeds, maybe... he could become a god?
At the thought, the muscles in Homelander’s cheeks twitched twice, almost nervously.
"N-no. Nothing. It just feels really good right now."
Homelander shook his head.
Then he lowered his gaze, reached out with his red-gloved hand, grabbed a handful of fries from the cardboard box beside him, stuffed them into his mouth, and chewed hard.
The golden fries crunched between his teeth.
Benjamin just frowned at his weird-ass son.
He had no idea what Homelander had been thinking, but that expression just now... yeah, something had definitely been off.
Forget it.
Homelander had become a real superhero in the end. That was enough.
But just then, a notification sounded beside Benjamin’s ear.
[You made Homelander understand what true love is. Love is mutual. Only by loving others can one be loved in return. That is why, during this period, Homelander did the good things a superhero should do. He killed scum, protected the weak, and became a true superhero.
At the same time, his soaring approval rating has given Homelander a special idea...
Although that idea is not exactly a good one, overall, Homelander has become a true superhero now, hasn’t he?
Reward obtained: Super Hearing Lv5.]
"A not-so-good idea? What the hell could that be?"
Benjamin was very curious.
Fortunately, he had gained the same Super Hearing as Homelander. Maybe he could use Super Hearing to tell whether other people were lying, too.
He just had no idea when Super Speed and Super Flight would show up.
...
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, inside a basement that never saw daylight.
There were no luxurious panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows like the ones in Vought Tower. Only moldy walls, and the sour stink of cheap tobacco and old beer that never seemed to leave the air.
The Boys’ hideout looked like a rat hole, same as always.
William Butcher stood beneath a dim incandescent bulb.
The stubble on his face was a mess. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, filled with a bone-deep exhaustion that looked like it could burn a man’s soul down to ash.
His time in Africa had been hell on earth. The torture, the blazing sun, the stench of rotting flesh and tropical disease had nearly broken him.
He had barely managed to crawl back to America, covered in scars and carrying a rage that refused to die.
He had thought he could finally land a killing blow on that star-spangled bastard.
But now.
All he could do was grip his phone tight, his face dark as he listened to the voice coming through the receiver.
On the other end of the line was Susan Raynor, Deputy Director of the CIA.
"We failed, Butcher. Homelander won, and he won clean."
Susan sounded like she had aged ten years in a second, her voice heavy with the helplessness of someone who had been crushed flat by reality.
"Originally, according to our plan and basic common sense, we’d already had plenty of conversations with Neuman. Victoria Neuman was supposed to be our key card.
She’d spent all this time building a public image as anti-Supe. As long as she brought out that evidence against Vought at the hearing, we could nail that bastard. But..."
Susan paused and took a deep breath.
"At the hearing, Neuman changed her story at the last second. That fucking bitch flipped without any warning. In front of every senator and the media, she used the most polished, self-righteous bullshit imaginable to turn Homelander into an American hero."
Butcher clenched his jaw hard, unwilling to accept it.
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