Transmigrated into The Boys, Starting as Soldier Boy

Benjamin’s punch was clean and brutal. His fist cut through the air and slammed hard into the side of Cindy’s face.

The impact ripped her off the floor and sent her crashing into the wall behind her.

A dull boom followed, and cracks burst across the concrete with Cindy’s back at the center.

Her body was driven straight into the wall. Her head lolled to one side, her bald scalp covered in gray-white dust.

...

To be honest, Benjamin had held back. Otherwise, killing Cindy with one punch would have been easy.

But what could he do? Benjamin was a kindhearted man.

Benjamin drew back his fist.

The next second, an invisible force surged in from every direction.

It couldn’t be seen or touched, but it felt like a giant unseen hand had clamped down on Benjamin’s body and was trying to crush him.

This was Cindy’s psychic power.

A psychic power strong enough to twist steel into a pretzel.

If it had been an ordinary Supe, their bones would probably have shattered by now, their organs rupturing under that horrific pressure until blood poured from every opening in their body.

But Benjamin was no ordinary Supe.

He merely looked down at himself. The invisible Telekinetic Field was trying to squeeze his body, but his skin did not even dent. His muscles remained as hard as steel, and his bones did not move an inch.

That terrifying Telekinetic Force, powerful enough to make a weaker Supe burst apart on the spot, landed on him like a three-year-old pounding an adult’s calf with everything they had.

No.

Not even that hard.

Benjamin started walking toward Cindy, who was still embedded in the wall.

When he reached her, he grabbed the back collar of her hospital gown and yanked her out of the shattered concrete like pulling a radish out of mud.

Cindy hung limply in his grip. A thin line of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, a little gift from that first punch.

Her eyes were unfocused, her gaze drifting. She clearly still had not recovered from the hit.

Benjamin did not give her the chance.

The second punch drove into her abdomen, its force controlled with perfect precision. Not enough to kill her, but more than enough to make her question her entire damn life.

Cindy’s body folded violently.

Then came the third punch. The fourth. Every blow landed where it would hurt the most without being fatal, steady and unhurried.

Cindy had no idea why this middle-aged man had walked in and started beating the shit out of her.

Had she done something wrong?

After several punches, Cindy’s scattered gaze began to focus again. She became much more lucid, and the way she looked at Benjamin was filled with fear and respect.

Before the beating, Cindy had looked kind of stupid. Now she seemed a lot smarter.

"Now,"

Benjamin lifted her by the collar with one hand until her eyes were level with his and said,

"Can you fucking understand what I’m saying?"

Cindy nodded hard.

She only knew one thing. If she did not nod, the man in front of her absolutely would not mind punching her a few more times.

"I... I understand."

Cindy’s voice came out hoarse.

Benjamin stared into her eyes for three seconds, as if checking whether that clarity in her gaze was real or just an act.

Three seconds later, he let go. Cindy dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, collapsing there and gasping for air. Sweat and blood mixed on her bald head and ran down her cheeks.

Benjamin looked down at her. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"Good," he said. "Then now we can have a proper chat."

Benjamin had no idea how Homelander had subdued Cindy in the original series, but he figured it had probably been something like this. Cindy must have feared Homelander’s power, and that was why she worked for him. Unfortunately, later on, Starlight snapped her neck and killed her.

Starlight was way too nasty. He would go back tonight and teach her a lesson.