The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

Doctor Tenma. For you all lives are created equal, that’s why I came back to life. But you’ve finally come to realize it now, haven’t you? Only one thing is equal for all, and that is death.

~ Johan Liebert, Monster

____

On the streets.

Retired veterans, truck drivers, unemployed workers, middle-class folks pushed to the brink of slaughter... These were faces full of anger and exhaustion, boiling over for just one name right now.

They were sick of those masters sitting in the clouds, deciding their life and death with just a wag of their tongues.

They wanted someone who truly stood on their side.

[Public — emotional escalation: anger, despair, betrayal, fanaticism for The Guardian, collective yearning for the Regent]

[Ability points obtained: +36,400]

As expected, it’s weakened quite a bit; riding the slipstream doesn’t yield many ability points.

Hillel put down his Dr Pepper.

Alright!

Time to add some fire to this event!

...

That evening.

The American Brewers Association held a grand ceremony.

This was originally a rather boring commercial event, purely for Hillel to generate some revenue.

For example, praising beer, boosting sales, saying some provocative things to win the favor of those blue-collar white folks.

Hillel stood on stage, holding the speech draft written by Vought.

The content inside was, well, mediocre.

Just as Hillel was considering whether to follow it, a reporter suddenly raised their hand and started asking questions on the spot.

"Mr. The Guardian! What is your take on the President’s response regarding Little St. James Island today?!"

The audience’s eyes instantly lit up.

Some were drunk and swaying, but hearing this topic, they subconsciously focused.

This was a minefield.

Ashley was making frantic gestures below, telling him to play tai chi, say some official jargon, and absolutely not take the bait.

After all, that was the President; he should be given some rep.

Hillel looked down at the speech draft, and in front of the live camera broadcasting to all of America, he tore the draft to shreds.

Ashley slapped her forehead.

It’s over!

The boss is going off-script again!

She’ll have to sleep in the office again today.

Hughie, standing nearby, actually wanted to hear what Hillel had to say.

Hillel grabbed the microphone, no longer standing on the podium, speaking from on high.

He walked down the steps.

Step by step, he walked into the middle of the crowd.

He could have flown down directly.

But he chose to walk.

He didn’t stand in front of the crowd.

He chose to stand in the middle of them!

"I originally just came to do an event and win your favor because I’ve been in the spotlight lately!"

Hillel smiled, his voice not loud, but it silenced the entire venue.

"But just now, this friend asked me what I think of the President’s response."

"I don’t have any thoughts, because he didn’t speak like a human being at all."

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd.

Hillel’s voice suddenly rose.

"They tell you to stay calm, to trust the justice system."

"But on that island, there are over three hundred children, more than half of whom are not yet adults! Are they calm? Can they wait for justice?!"

"They tell you this is a national secret that cannot be disclosed."

"But your taxes pay for those people sitting in the Capitol Building."

"It is your money that built their villas and hired their bodyguards."

"Only then can they sit there, twiddling their fingers, deciding which truths can see the light of day and which must be forever shoved behind steel doors, not letting a single piece of paper slip out!"

"By what right?!"

"By what right do you work hard your whole life, unable to even scrape together tuition for your children, while those people, with a flick of their fingers, can make someone who knows too much die accidentally in a bathtub?!"

With a "bang," someone smashed a beer bottle.

The crowd’s emotions were completely ignited.

"Well said!!"

"Damn those bastards!"

Hillel looked around, stomped his foot, and the stone tiles on the ground cracked.

"I have plenty of strength; I can push away a meteorite with my bare hands, and with a stomp, I can make all of New York shake!"

"That’s why they dare not talk to me directly, they don’t even dare to respond to my questions!"

"I could easily use my superpowers to guard the gates for those masters, to cover your mouths for them, and even this speech draft today told me to avoid the heavy and focus on the light, not to discuss anything about Rhode Island!"

"If I really did that, how would I be any different from a dog?"

"Those masters want to downplay the impact of this incident because the internet has no memory, and the public rushes between two points every day—work, home—your task is just to pay the bills!"

"Don’t look at me as a hero; I am not a hero. I am just a person who happens to have a lot of strength, but I am willing to be your proxy."

"And you—"

He suddenly raised his hand, pointing at the whole crowd.

"You are the voice that truly deserves to be heard in this country!"

[Public — emotional change: blood boiling, ignited, found faith, sense of belonging, anger toward the system completely detonated]

[Ability points obtained: +43,200]

The speech ended.

Applause, cheers!

It almost blew the roof off.

Just when everyone thought The Guardian was going to continue his speech.

He did something no one expected.

He actually walked up to a normal Joe and handed him the microphone.

The guy was full of wrinkles, with sunburn marks on his face and neck.

"Take it."

The guy was stunned. "Me?"

"Yes, that’s right, you!"

Hillel held his shoulder. "The person who should really be speaking has never been me. It’s just because I have great strength that they are willing to listen to me for a while."

"But now!"

"I am willing to let you stand on my shoulders to talk to those masters!"

"You can state your demands."

The guy’s eyes turned red instantly.

At that moment, an ordinary retired veteran raised the microphone and, with all his strength, roared the inner voice of everyone.

"We want the truth!!"

"Hand over the real culprits!!"

"We need The Guardian!"

"We need the Regent even more!!!"

"In his name, we all are behind him! In his name! And in my name too!!"

Ten thousand people roared in unison.

"Regent! Regent! Regent!!!"

"In my name too!"

These people were just a step away from raising their arms and swarming up.

...

The White House.

The President’s face was darker than the bottom of a pot.

Fuck... the beautiful times.. The golden times... Completely over now!

He immediately dialed Edgar’s number, intending to pressure him.

However, his own phone rang first.

"Okay, okay, sir! I understand!"

Hanging up the phone.

The President slumped in his chair.

It’s really over!

Now even Vought is not someone he can manipulate at will!

Edgar, that old fox, had long since taken advantage of this tailwind to install his own people into Congress.

The Supe Enlistment Act was also proceeding in an orderly manner.

What’s even worse is. Those who truly control this country!

BlackRock, Vanguard, Blackstone... the capital giants managing tens of trillions of dollars in assets, were the first to smell the crisis.

They were frantically offering olive branches to Vought.

There was only one purpose: to connect with The Guardian.

Nonsense!

A person who can make New York shake with a stomp—a physical earthquake.

Money has no meaning to him.

As for why they didn’t doubt Hillel’s statement.

That’s because Little St. James Island... shifted!

The last time Hillel took Maeve down, he didn’t control his strength well and accidentally kicked the island, moving it a little bit.

Causing a chain reaction at sea.

But Hillel himself didn’t know, and Maeve, protected by the Bio-field, didn’t know either.

So, these billion-dollar founders might be evil, but they are definitely not stupid. Among them are those with investment vision who clearly understand that when such a powerful man chooses to stand up and shout, and is revered by the masses...

Power of money is worth nothing!

He is pure violence!

____

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