Two in the afternoon, at that street-level café in Brooklyn.
Stan Edgar arrived even more punctually than Benjamin had imagined.
The man who controlled the world’s largest superhero business empire pushed open the café’s glass door, dressed in a dark gray turtleneck and black pants.
He had no entourage or security, looking as discreet as a university professor on a business trip to New York.
If Benjamin hadn’t known who he was, he could have completely disappeared into the crowd on the street.
Stan Edgar sat down across from Benjamin, ordered a black coffee from the waiter, rested his clasped hands on the table, and looked at the man in front of him.
Benjamin leaned back in his chair, holding a cup of American coffee that was already more than half cold, his posture as casual as if he were chatting with an old friend.
“Your son killed Black Noir last night.”
Stan Edgar got straight to the point.
“With his own hands.
In the lounge on the thirty-seventh floor of Vought Tower.
The security cameras captured it clearly, and I’ve already had the video erased.”
Benjamin took a sip of coffee, his expression unchanged.
He had already sensed it a long time ago.
That look in Homelander’s eyes when he left, the hatred burning in them, needed an outlet.
And his original self already held a grudge against Black Noir; besides Black Noir, there were several other teammates.
Although he personally held no grudge, having inherited the original body, getting revenge for him wasn’t going too far.
Besides, those memories were vividly and authentically present in his mind.
Soldier Boy would never bully an ordinary person.
And in this world of The Boys, full of perverts and weirdos, there were very few ordinary people.
That’s why Soldier Boy used to bully people.
Of course, bullying was completely wrong.
But forty years of torture were far more hateful than justified bullying.
“So you’re here to hold me accountable?”
“I’m here to do business.”
Stan Edgar’s tone was as firm as if he were reading a financial statement.
“The current situation is simple.
The combined power of you two, father and son, is enough to make Vought International completely disappear from the New York Stock Exchange.
I’m not exaggerating; you know what I’m saying is true.”
“But at the same time, Vought also has the capability…
well, you know…
He paused, and the coffee was served.
He picked up the cup, took a sip, and then continued.
“But I think we have a better solution.
We have no intention of going to war with you, nor with John.
On the contrary, I want you to return to Vought.”
Benjamin put down his cup and, for the first time, truly fixed his gaze on Stan Edgar’s face.
“You want me back?” Benjamin sneered.
“Did you forget who sold me to those Russians?”
“That was a mistake.”
Stan Edgar said it quickly, so quickly that there was almost no pause, as if he had rehearsed that phrase repeatedly at some negotiation table.
“A terrible decision made by the previous administration.
Of course, I’m not here to defend it; I’m here to propose a new plan.”
If he hadn’t read the original work, he would have believed him.
Benjamin sneered inwardly.
Stan Edgar took a folded piece of paper from his pocket, smoothed it out on the table, and placed it in front of Benjamin.
It wasn’t a formal contract, but a handwritten summary of terms, written neatly and clearly organized, obviously drafted by Stan Edgar himself, or at least personally written by him.
“Return to Vought and enter management as a supervisor.”
Stan Edgar began his presentation, tapping his finger on the paper.
“This isn’t about joining The Seven, but about managing The Seven.”
“A new position will be created for this role: Executive Director of the Department of Superhero Affairs.”
“Your authority will be higher than any member of The Seven, including Homelander.
All mission assignments, personnel deployments, and operational approvals will require your signature.
In decision-making on superhero matters, your rank will be second highest, second only to the Board of Directors.”
He looked up, his gaze meeting Benjamin’s directly.
“In other words, the position I’m offering you is above your son’s.”
Suddenly, the café became very quiet.
The old radio in the corner was playing a jazz song.
Benjamin knew perfectly well what Stan Edgar was planning.
This old fox never made a losing deal; giving him an apparently unattainable position was, in reality, placing him and Homelander on opposite ends of a scale.
He would suppress Homelander, and Homelander would suppress him; they would check each other, while Stan Edgar positioned himself at the center of the balance, continuing his role as puppeteer.
But Benjamin didn’t expose him.
Because he also had his own plans.
“How about you resign right now, give me your position, and let me become the head of Vought International?”
“If the opportunity arises, perhaps you could take that step.”
Stan Edgar didn’t refuse; he spoke of something that might happen in the future.
Benjamin looked at Stan Edgar, feeling a little tempted.
After all, he was a reincarnated person; if he wanted to get close to Homelander, apart from taking him by force, the only option was to join Vought.
Besides, Benjamin was not the original Soldier Boy; his tastes were quite normal.
Queen Maeve, Starlight, or Neuman…
Benjamin had no interest in them at all.
He didn’t know if Starlight had already been humiliated by The Deep, but it should be soon.
Whether to get closer to Homelander or to enjoy life, Benjamin needed Vought’s resources.
Moreover, if he wanted to control the White House and all of America like Homelander did in the fifth season, Benjamin also needed to join Vought.
And then…
find an opportunity later to get revenge.
“Executive Director.”
Benjamin said.
“Add one condition.”
Stan Edgar raised an eyebrow.
“What I want to create is a normal superhero company, not a talent agency.
Those Compound Vs that are being misused out there, let’s recover them and make sure they never leak again.”
“I know these things are being done by my damn son, but all of this has your authorization.”
Stan Edgar’s finger stopped on the rim of the coffee cup.
This concerned Vought’s interests.
But he thought for less than three seconds.
“Deal.”
Benjamin picked up the coffee, which was already completely cold, downed it in one gulp, and then slammed the cup on the table.
“Then I’ll start working tomorrow.
If you break the rules, or if I find an opportunity, I’ll blow your head off and shove it up your ass.”
Stan Edgar remained impassive.