บท 71: Chapter 71: Playing It Low-Key
The lively entrance tune played once more, and another spotlight shone down on the stage.
Gradually, a figure rose from the center of the platform.
Under the lights, the black combat suit exuded an aura of strength and chilling authority. The mask's eyes glowed, projecting an intimidating brilliance. Yellow streaks painted across the armor emphasized a sense of overwhelming power, enough to make anyone feel a hint of dread.
As Colonel Yuri stepped out onto the stage, the crowd fell silent, awed by the suit's fierce appearance. Only when he tapped the mask to reveal his strong, square-jawed face did the audience seem to remember to breathe.
Arnold smiled. "Alright, feel free to ask Colonel Yuri some questions, one at a time." He gestured toward the sea of reporters below the stage.
Immediately, journalists from major New York outlets and top bloggers swarmed around the stage, surrounding the colonel.
A female reporter in a sleek business suit held up a microphone. "Colonel Yuri, can you tell us what it feels like to wear this combat suit?"
Colonel Yuri nodded. "It makes me feel invincible. Yes, with this suit on, I feel like I could take on an entire battalion."
A bespectacled male reporter followed up, "Colonel, do you think that if Olga's combat suit technology becomes widespread, we'll still need superheroes?"
Colonel Yuri took the mic from him and responded firmly, "I can say without a doubt—no, we won't."
"If Olga's suit tech is deployed to the military and police forces, our soldiers will become one-man armies on the battlefield, and our officers will arrest superhuman criminals with ease."
"As for superheroes, I appreciate everything they've done to protect our cities and this country. But specialized work should be left to specialized professionals. Our police, with proper training and backed by this suit, will be more efficient at handling threats than any superhero."
Another reporter asked, "So are you suggesting that superheroes might be obsolete?"
Colonel Yuri nodded again, "Yes. With this suit, we could even protect them for a change."
Laughter rippled through the room.
Moments later, Arnold returned to the stage with a broad smile. "Alright, folks," he said, waving a hand, "that's all for now. You'll have more time to interview the Colonel shortly. For now, please return to your seats, enjoy a drink, and relax."
Satisfied, the journalists dispersed, allowing Arnold to address the crowd once more.
"One week ago, I invited the executives of Vought and Homelander to attend this evening's showcase."
"But it appears they lacked the courage to show up."
"Oh, but I understand."
"If I were in their shoes, I might hide too. Then, I'd release a statement the next morning saying I had an upset stomach and couldn't make it."
"Trust me—I'm quite experienced in the art of excuses."
He paused, leaving space for the laughter from the crowd to echo through the hall.
But just as Arnold was about to continue, a voice rang out.
"Perhaps Mr. Arnold is still a bit young and doesn't quite understand the weight of 'credibility.'"
"As someone with decades of experience in the field, let me tell you—I don't make promises I can't keep, and I would never resort to an excuse as childish as a stomachache."
A spotlight swept toward the entrance.
There, dressed in a sharp black suit, stood Edgar, accompanied by superheroines Maeve, Starlight, and Snow Queen.
The elder's arrival was greeted with a round of enthusiastic applause. Although they had accepted Olga Corporation's invitation to an event that seemed aimed at undercutting Vought, the VIPs and executives in the room were smart enough to give Edgar his due respect.
Arnold kept a calm expression, though inside, he had already cursed Edgar a hundred times over. The old man had barely entered and was already accusing him of lacking credibility and acting childish—right in front of a roomful of people. It was as good as a slap in the face.
Nevertheless, Arnold's self-control was impeccable. Despite his irritation, he broke into a hearty laugh. "Welcome, welcome," he said, clapping. "Glad you could make it, Mr. Edgar."
Feigning surprise, Arnold then asked, "Oh, but where's Homelander? Didn't he come with you?"
At that moment, a thunderous crash erupted above as the ceiling burst open, and a figure came hurtling down to the floor below.
The crowd recoiled in shock, only to see a figure dressed in black rising to his feet.
Through the opening in the roof, the night wind swept in, tousling a head of golden hair. His brilliant blue eyes reflected the gleaming lights, and with a slight smirk that revealed perfect white teeth, he flashed a warm, sunny smile.
"Homelander!"
"It's him!"
The crowd erupted into cheers. But tonight, Homelander wasn't in his usual blue suit with the American flag cape. Instead, he wore a black outfit trimmed with gold lines.
Most striking was the chest emblem—a stylized "K" symbol that looked somewhat like a lightning bolt, radiating a sense of bold confidence. Coupled with his dramatic entrance, the look sent many women in the crowd swooning, their hearts racing.
Such a brash, domineering man—who wouldn't be drawn to that?
Homelander looked up, pointing to the hole in the ceiling, then turned to Arnold with a smile. "Apologies for the mess, Mr. Arnold. I was in a bit of a hurry and made a hole. Hope you don't mind."
A barely visible vein twitched on Arnold's forehead.
"Don't mind?" How could he?
This was the Empire State Building! The repair costs alone would be astronomical.
But money wasn't the real issue. The real problem was that Homelander had just crashed in here, showing blatant disregard for him and the entire event.
Still, Arnold forced a laugh. "Of course not," he replied. "It's nothing."
He added, "Only Homelander could make such an entrance. But I'm curious… why the change in suit? The black color feels… a bit intimidating."
Arnold's choice of words was intentional, trying to associate Homelander's new outfit with fear and disaster.
Homelander shrugged. "I see it differently."
"Black symbolizes restraint and quiet."
"As a guest, I didn't want to outshine the host."
"That's why I chose this outfit. Can't you see the thoughtfulness, Mr. Arnold?"
Arnold glanced up at the hole in the ceiling, his mouth twitching.
Restrained? Quiet?
Not stealing the spotlight?
Who was he kidding?
There was no one as audacious as him.
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