The Boys: Viltrumite Evolution Panel

Forty-eight hours later.

Vought Tower.

All major American media outlets were present.

Edgar sat in the center, his expression hovering between gloom and anticipation.

He was gloomy because Lucas had involved Vought’s other two signature assets, Homelander and Maeve, in this affair.

They certainly killed with abandon.

Among those who died were members of Congress, a former Secretary of Defense, military representatives, leading entrepreneurs...

This was a huge incident.

CNN, FOX, NBC, ABC, CBS, Vought News Network—every channel was broadcasting it live simultaneously.

Even the Super Bowl didn’t get this kind of treatment.

The entire roster of The Seven was present, even Lamplighter, who was guarding the gate at Sage Grove Center, had been dragged out for a photo op.

Lucas was in the very center, the most prominent spot.

Originally, he was supposed to share this position with Homelander.

But Edgar insisted: the benefits go to Vought, the honor goes to Guardian, and no one else should get involved, lest they get stained with scandal.

The press conference had begun.

Yet Lucas didn’t say a word; on the large screens on either side, footage of the rescue in Rhode Island was playing.

All the reporters held their breath, watching every frame intently.

There was no editing, no cutting; even the scene where Lucas decapitated a congressman was included in its entirety.

Only the most brutal parts involving the children had been slightly processed.

The emotional reporters at the scene were already starting to fuck God.

By the time the footage finished playing, everyone was still immersed in shock; they could hardly imagine that these images came from America—a country of freedom, beauty, wealth, democracy, justice, and rule of law!

Lucas tapped the microphone three times.

The room fell silent.

"All eyes on me!"

The entire crowd looked over in unison.

"Three days ago, my colleagues and I discovered three hundred and forty captives on a private island in the Caribbean."

"More than half of them were children."

"You can all see it; those images are ironclad proof."

Lucas scanned every person’s eyes.

"They were locked in underground cells like livestock, beaten, violated, and even sold as commodities."

"Some people’s organs were harvested and sold to wealthy individuals in need of transplants, while others were sent straight to the incinerator after being used up."

"Not even their ashes remained."

"And the people doing all of this were not some heinous street criminals."

"They were the chairman of the Church of the Collective, a world-renowned philanthropist! They were federal judges sitting in courts, wielding power with a mere word."

"They were our state representatives, politicians who might enter the White House in the future! And our retired generals, those soldiers who swore to dedicate their loyalty, character, and lives to America!"

"They! Are the most respectable people in this country."

Every time Lucas paused, it was as if he were building momentum.

"A few days ago, some people called me scum, a butcher, an executioner, a fascist wearing the coat of a superhero."

"Why?"

"Because I once said that the life of a terrorist is not as valuable as that of a World War II veteran!"

"I know how those liberals are cleverly weaving lies to attack me behind my back; they think my words destroyed the spirit of the so-called free constitution!"

"Natural rights, equality for all—by what right do I have the qualification to judge evil? Is this not hegemony that overrides the law?"

"Some even think I am raping the public’s brains!"

"What a joke! I’d rather risk being photographed to pick up ten white girls with big breasts at a nightclub at once than have the time to fuck with everyone’s brains!"

"But—"

Lucas smiled, then his expression quickly turned serious, and he tapped the tabletop lightly with his finger.

"...But, right in front of you, there is such a group of people who are actually raping the public’s brains!"

"They take taxpayers’ money, enjoy unlimited glory, sit on the advantages brought to them by the law, and ride roughshod over three hundred million Americans, all while doing these things..."

"What things?"

"They are raping kids in basements, and then telling us we must protect the future of America!"

"They harvest the organs of the young and transplant them into themselves, just to evade the natural laws of aging."

"They use charitable funds to build underground prisons, committing acts of the devil, yet they talk to you and me about the morality of the Lord! Oh, Father! Please forgive my sins!"

Lucas used exaggerated gestures, as if performing a farcical show.

But no one could laugh.

"These are the people!"

Lucas’s voice grew increasingly high-pitched.

"These are the people!"

"They talk to me about the value of life, they talk to me about the law, they talk to me about power, and they will cite the Fifth Amendment of the Constitution to defend their crimes!"

"When I stepped onto this land of freedom, someone told me that this is the law, this is so-called procedural justice, this is... the spirit of the American Constitution!"

"I am not American, my English is not good, so could someone please translate for me!"

"What... the hell... is a free constitution!"

The room was dead silent!

Only the red lights of the cameras were flashing.

Reporters forgot to even hold their microphones; some dropped them directly onto the floor, making a huge noise.

But not a single person moved.

They were all savoring, savoring the indignant words of this stranger.

But these words were especially absurd precisely because they came from the mouth of a stranger.

A person not native to America had actually torn off America’s fig leaf.

What bullshit justice, what bullshit law, what bullshit freedom—it was all shit.

Lucas gave the reporters time to buffer.

He didn’t wait for questions and continued speaking.

This time, his voice wasn’t as high-pitched, but rather slowly sank down.

"If the Constitution protects this kind of person, if the result of procedural justice is to let these people go unpunished with the help of shyster lawyers!"

"If equality for all means that a congressman who rapes a kid and the kid he raped enjoy the same rights!"

"Then we don’t want this kind of equality!"

Anger began to appear on Lucas’s face; it was a performance he had carefully arranged.

Only at this moment was it appropriate to show anger.

Because it wasn’t him who was angry, but everyone in front of the TV who needed this emotion.

They, too, should have such emotions.

Lucas looked directly into the camera, a king descending from heaven, angry and ferocious, fully embodied at this moment.

"Congress!"

"I know, you gentlemen and ladies in suits, sitting in air-conditioned rooms, the people who really have millions of pounds... you use taxpayers’ money to drink coffee, drink fine wine, and discuss with fingers holding cigars..."

"...Whether Supes should be regulated, and what kind of weapons we need to contain these unstable factors!"

"But I am telling you now..."

Lucas pointed at the camera, as if someone were really inside it.

"You are the ones who really need to be regulated!"

"Because your colleagues are raping kids on an island in the Caribbean, harvesting young organs in basements, and building a purgatory on earth in the name of God!"

"And you, do you even know about these scandals?"

"If you knew, what did you do? Condone? Ignore? Self-preservation?"

"If you didn’t know, then by what right are you sitting in that position? Holding the power of life and death over this country!"