The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.

~ Winston Churchill

_____

"They’ll only think you’re stingy, brother."

Hillel spread his hands and continued. "Sometimes it’s not about lacking a template. Once there’s a precedent, people start making comparisons and everything goes to shit."

"By my calculations, you need to donate at least two hundred million."

"Best if you match me. Three hundred million..."

Homelander’s face wrinkled up like an old cucumber.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to earn these three hundred million?"

Fine, fine, fine. So Homelander was starting to complain now, huh.

"Was it really hard ...when you are the Homelander? You go to Hollywood, shoot a movie, take the top salary plus a cut, shoot a couple more, and the money comes right back."

"Besides, can you even spend all that cash in your lifetime? To you it’s just a pile of paper that sits in the bank and molds."

"If you let someone else invest it and they run off with the money, wouldn’t that be a pretty fucking ominous end to your later years?"

Homelander shook his head, looking like he was in physical pain.

"No way!"

Hillel pulled out his phone and made a show of dialing.

"Fine. I’ll call Ryan and tell him that his dad has money but refuses to do charity. So much for ’justice.’ It’s all just a facade..."

"I’ll donate!"

Homelander nearly flipped the table.

"I’ll donate, okay! Three hundred million! Same as you!"

...

[Homelander — Emotional change: Pained, unwilling, feeling powerless (being manipulated), good father to his son]

[Ability points gained: +11,340]

...

In the corner, Hughie was frantically taking meeting minutes, his hand shaking like he had Parkinson’s.

First day on the job.

Three hundred million in funding turned into six hundred million in the blink of an eye.

Was this... The Guardian’s power?

Butcher said there wasn’t a single good supe.

But this one right here, with just a few words, made the most dangerous, terrifying lunatic in America docilely dump three hundred million into a charity fund.

Homelander didn’t seem that bad after all.

Hughie thought to himself.

A truly bad person would never pay up, not even for approval ratings.

And as for The Guardian, he was no mad dog.

He was clearly... the leash holding an entire group of supes.

The Seven could bolt at any moment, and The Guardian was the hand gripping that leash.

...

[Hughie Campbell — Emotional change: Cognitive collapse, shock, fundamental shift in perception of The Guardian, wavering]

[Ability points gained: +24,880]

...

Hillel’s mouth curled into a crucked smirk.

Good!

Hughie was wavering!!

Just as Hughie’s worldview was getting rewritten, two people suddenly spoke up from the side.

Maeve and Starlight exchanged a glance.

Both of them almost spoke at the same time.

"I’ll donate one hundred million."

Starlight spoke first, chin slightly raised.

"Then I’ll donate one hundred and ten million."

Maeve held her coffee, looking completely indifferent.

The Queen wasn’t drinking anymore. She was starting to retire.

Starlight raised an eyebrow. "One hundred and twenty million."

"Yo, Little Goldilocks has money, huh." Maeve set her cup down.

"The money I’m donating is clean. All earned from selling... selling my image." Starlight forced a smile.

The temperature in the conference room dropped hard.

Homelander was uncharacteristically staring at the table, saying nothing.

Hughie and Ashley, the two ordinary humans, both stared at the floor and counted the patterns on the tiles.

Hillel rubbed his temples.

"Alright, alright."

He made the final call. "One hundred million each. No more adding."

"It’s not easy for Maeve to earn money. She’s getting on in years, so everything she does is bitter!"

"The Guardian!" Maeve slammed her coffee cup down hard.

What! What!

She was in her golden years. How the hell was she old?

I think you, The Guardian, want to get shocked!

"...As for Starlight, she’s just starting out, and she’s only just saved up one hundred million. This sense of justice is worthy of praise."

Hillel finished speaking without changing his expression.

Maeve’s chest heaved, but looking at that punchable face, she ultimately held herself back.

...

[Queen Maeve — Emotional change: Embarrassed/angry, happy (being noticed), jealous (only coaxing the little blonde)]

[Ability points gained: +9,450]

...

Hughie was numb.

First day on the job, three hundred million in funds becomes six hundred million.

Then six hundred million becomes eight hundred million.

His dojo didn’t make that much in a whole night!

Hughie felt like he didn’t hate supes anymore.

He hated rich people!

Damn high society.

Once the dust settled on this donation competition that was comparable to an auction, Hillel clapped his hands.

"Alright, the charity matter is settled! Ashley, draft a press release later!"

He looked at Hughie.

"You two head out first. The rest is internal business."

Hughie felt like he had been granted amnesty. Clutching the meeting minutes, he followed Ashley and practically fled the conference room.

Both of them wiped the sweat from their brows at the same time.

"Whew! From now on, it’s just the two of us!"

Ashley extended a hand.

Hughie gripped it tightly.

The two comrades-in-arms felt they had met too late.

As soon as the door closed.

The relaxed look on Hillel’s face faded for the most part.

"Let’s talk business. Where has that kid The Deep been making his fortune lately?"

The expressions of the few people in the conference room changed.

Homelander paced by the window with his hands behind his back. "The Deep is now a rat crossing the street. Everyone wants to beat him up. He publicly stands with the Church of the Collective and has even attended several events with Alastair Adana."

"Once Little St. James Island was exposed, everyone online started spreading rumors about whether The Deep has also been to the island."

"If that animal has been to the island, don’t blame me for being ruthless!" Maeve sneered.

"That’s the problem."

Hillel shook his head. "We can’t dig any deeper into his dirt."

"Why?" Starlight asked, puzzled.

Hillel’s gaze swept across everyone present. "Because The Deep is a member of The Seven. Whatever The Seven was like before, that’s all in the past. Today is a new era!"

"If he drags out the island affair, at most we deal with it all together. But if it gets linked to Vought’s past dark secrets, and they start investigating you one by one, what will you do?"

"Right, John, the ’never-kills-anyone, good neighbor’?"

"The ruthless killer, Black Noir?"

"The lesbian... now bisexual, alcoholic, Maeve?"

Homelander stood up abruptly, his eyes starting to glow red.

"That’s simple. I’ll go rip him apart right now."

"Sit down." Hillel didn’t even turn his head.

"I..."

"I said sit down." Hillel’s tone was flat.

But Homelander, as if possessed, actually moved his butt back onto the chair.

He didn’t even realize it himself.

What the fuck!

Why am I listening to him!

Homelander felt a surge of frustration inside, but his body was very honest.

"Killing someone like The Deep can’t be done by you. You’re the leader, and you’re the most high-profile face in America. It’s too conspicuous!"

He looked at Black Noir, who had remained motionless the whole time.

This guy never misses a meeting, and Hillel ignores him every time. No wonder he’s suited to be an assassin.

Even more invisible than Translucent!

"Black Noir, you go."

This was the first time Hillel had singled him out since joining Vought.

Black Noir slowly raised his head.

Black Noir was Edgar’s man, and Hillel had been worried about whether he needed to call that guy.

However.

Black Noir nodded.

He didn’t even ask.

Although he couldn’t speak anyway.

Hillel was slightly stunned.

So straightforward?

___

Damn.. I’d forgotten about Black Noir xD

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