The doors to the office swung open abruptly, and I entered with confidence.
I continued going full speed ahead, and Stan Edgar was completely caught off guard by my visit.
He was watching some broadcast featuring Victoria Neuman, a congresswoman who openly opposed Vought's initiatives.
She is interesting, and her actions should be monitored closely because of her reputation.
"Keeping your finger on the pulse, Stan?"
I asked with a smile, glancing at the completely calm man.
"I have to."
He replied briefly, lowering the TV volume to a minimum.
"What brings you here?"
"A question, of course."
"In that case, ask away."
He waved his hand at the secretary who nodded and exited the room.
"Who is the leader of the Seven, Stan? Can you enlighten me?"
"As far as I know, he's standing right in front of me."
Stan replied.
"Oh, really?"
I pretended surprise at his words, staring intently into his eyes.
"I thought you took on that role today. Which, undoubtedly, sounds... amusing."
"If you're concerned about Stormfront's appointment to the Seven, that's not up for discussion."
Stan said bluntly when realizing where the conversation was heading.
"Any other questions?"
"I'm not concerned about Stormfront, and it doesn't matter at all."
I shook my head, looking into the calm eyes of the 'boss.'
"What truly matters is your interference in the affairs of my team."
"Your team?"
He arched an eyebrow, looking at me as if I were a small child.
"I hate to disappoint you, but the Seven belong to Vought Corporation and no one else."
"I'm aware of that."
I sighed softly when I saw my blue eyes glint red in her glasses.
"However, there was a catch, and you agreed that the team was mine. I think it was pretty recently. Does your word not mean anything?"
"I don't have a bad memory, and neither do you. I noticed I haven't broken our agreement. You still handle your affairs, and I handle mine. No one in your team was forced into anything. Correct?"
Edgar waited for my nod and continued.
"Adding a new member to the team isn't interference that should have caused your anger. We had to hurry with the choice because circumstances dictated their own terms."
"So, enlighten me. What made you rush?"
"Money."
Stan shrugged, taking off his glasses.
"The death of Translucent hit us hard especially in terms of stocks. You didn't think that the sudden death of one of the strongest superhero team members wouldn't impact Vought?"
I had no response to that as his words made perfect sense.
"We're doing everything now to minimize the damage and even profit from it. Stormfront was supposed to show that the Seven is still in action. As far as I know, she's strong enough to meet your standards."
"You could have at least given me a heads up... in advance."
I sighed, accepting the fact that he was right.
"I have already informed Miss Stillwell that Stormfront will be admitted to The Seven starting tomorrow."
He looked at me with a hint of confusion.
"Then why did she come to the set to 'greet' us? She said it was your decision."
"I suppose that was her personal initiative."
Edgar chuckled, cleaning his glasses with a cloth and putting them back on.
"As far as I know, you have already taught her a lesson for this self-willed act. The way people will react to this is another issue. I think you should discuss this with Miss Stillwell."
"Yes, I should."
I nodded, agreeing with him.
Without saying anything more, I turned and headed for the exit.
"Goodbye, John."
I heard his voice behind me but did not respond.
Entering the elevator, I pondered the day's possibilities and how what happened would affect the future.
As far as I remember, feminism and other dubious social movements advocating for equality are also rampant in present-day America.
It looks like the "oppressed" in these movements only want to be much more equal than the 'oppressors'.
As Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel said: "The slaves dream not of freedom, but of becoming masters."
It was the same situation here in my view.
If a person is not allowed to choose their own beliefs and be free from a young age, they will respond to the world similarly.
They avenge their helplessness.
Essentially, it is not about equality at all, but about being above and taking the place of the former "oppressors".
How lovely.
"They're going to drag me through the mud."
I concluded from my thoughts and sighed, accepting it as inevitable.
Homelander's experience taught me that people's memory is surprisingly short.
In any case, everything will settle down soon.
The elevator stopped on my floor, and I exited.
After just a few steps down the corridor, I found myself in front of an ordinary door, and I opened it with a key card.
It was so dark inside that it would take an ordinary person's eyes at least a minute to adjust.
I sighed and used my X-ray vision to light up everything. I then shut the door behind me and continued on my way.
This time, I stood before another door, but this time it had been broken down by someone strong enough.
It was easy to determine who had such a great idea since the apartment's owner was Homelander.
I already had one or two candidates in mind.
I silently entered and headed straight for the living room where the television was on.
However, no one was sitting on the couch in front of it.
I shrugged and chose to sit on the side. I then leaned back and relaxed.
On the screen, a program was showing the daily lives of various inhabitants of our planet.
It was about sharks, and that's what they were discussing.
The ocean was portrayed as a mysterious place, full of the unknown.
I wonder what Deep would say about this. He knows for sure that there is nothing unknown in the ocean.
"Very unexpected, Kimiko."
I commented lazily, feeling her attempt to snap my neck with her usual way of greeting me.
After my words, she stopped trying to break my neck and moved on to a more straightforward way of trying to kill me.
She was even unable to pull my hair out no matter how hard she tried. The only ones who could do that were Maeve and me.
"How was your day?"
I asked her as she sat down on the couch not expecting an answer.
Kimiko shrugged, continuing to draw on some sheets of paper.
As I could see, she was drawing a shark. Unfortunately, she couldn't speak—not because she didn't want to but because she couldn't.
This condition wasn't physical but psychological. We only found out her name through a telepath Mesmer.
He was the closest to the tower at the time and could glean a lot through touch and gave me a lot of information about her.
That she was essentially a terrorist that I already knew, and her former employers had left behind a brother, Kenji.
It was unclear what to do with her.
In the end, I decided to keep her around since she wasn't causing any trouble.
The team initially treated her with suspicion, but now they were used to her presence.
We placed her across from my apartment, so she often comes over, but it's unclear why.
She doesn't have any feelings for me, maybe she even fears me a bit, and her behavior remains a mystery to me.
"Why did you break the door? Again."
I asked with interest, looking at her who froze at my words and glanced at the key card on the table.
She turned her head towards me and lowered her eyes like a guilty child.
Given her cute face, the effect was disarming.
She used this forbidden trick way too often. I wondered who she picked it up from.
I shouldn't have left her alone with Annie and Maeve because they even taught her how to put on makeup.
They were a bad influence on her.
"Let me guess. You forgot the key card at my place and broke the door."
She nodded cautiously, causing me to sigh resignedly.
"We'll have to replace the door, and don't forget the card again."
Kimiko's energetic nod and smile also made one appear on my face. It was hard to be mad at Kimiko, possibly because I felt responsible for her.
Additionally, it wasn't a significant offense—at least she didn't hurt or kill anyone.
I feel like these women are wrapping me around their fingers, and I can't resist it!
It's maybe because their requests aren't that big.
The next hour passed in peaceful silence, interrupted only occasionally by me.
We finished watching the shark movie. I looked at her drawings and watched her practice the alphabet.
The women who spent the most time with her thought it would be good for her to learn to write in English so she could communicate with people.
I didn't object now and periodically helped her learn the language.
So far, it's going well.
Then I flew out of the balcony, leaving the Vought Tower at high speed.
In about ten minutes, I reached my cabin in the woods, silently entering the guest bedroom and changing clothes.
Afterward, I went downstairs and entered through the front door as usual.
I really need to stop these games and finally tell Ryan what I do and start his training.
It's time to stop putting off such an important thing.
"Becca, Ryan, enjoy your meal."
I said with a smile as I entered the kitchen where they had already started lunch.
"In Spanish."
Becca said with playful sternness while Ryan watched with a smile.
"Lo siento, lo olvidé."
I apologized and repeated my greeting in Spanish.
"Buen provecho."
"Gracias."
They replied, smiling at me.
Shaking my head at such bold mockery of me, I sat down at the table where a separate plate had been prepared for me.
Even though I had mentioned that I probably wouldn't come.
It's a small thing, but it still felt nice.
"Calentar?"
She asked me.
"No, puedo hacerlo yo mismo."
I declined the offer to reheat the slightly cooled food, winking at her with a smile.
Becca rolled her eyes at my behavior and poured cold milk into a glass.
Things were going pretty well for me, unlike before, without that oppressive feeling of loneliness that Homelander constantly experienced.
For a moment, I wondered how he would have handled the situation here, but it's best not to spoil my mood with thoughts of what didn't happen and won't happen.
It could ruin my appetite, and that would be unacceptable because neglecting Becca's cooking might upset her.
I turned off my brain and enjoyed the meal while not forgetting to praise the chef.
...
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