Chen Mo flopped onto the sofa, pondering how he could continue to use his foresight to maximize his gains.
First and foremost was Compound V.
The easiest source Chen Mo currently knew of was at the Vought retirement home for Superhumans, in the possession of Gunpowder.
Chen Mo stared at the ceiling, his fingertips tapping unconsciously against the sofa armrest.
Gunpowder.
Golden Geisha’s boyfriend.
He loved Golden Geisha deeply and could not bear to watch her age bit by bit.
The Compound V he possessed was kept for her; he hoped his lifelong love would inject it so that the two of them could be together forever.
However, not everyone could bear the weight of immortality.
Golden Geisha firmly refused the Compound V injection.
“Summer is beautiful precisely because you know winter will come.” This was her reason.
“One wants to grant immortality, the other wants to meet death with composure.” Chen Mo muttered to himself, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“This kind of clichéd romantic script has somehow become the hardest nut for me to crack.” What made Chen Mo feel most desperate was the old guy’s near-teleportation-level high-speed flight capability, and that terrifying body capable of taking anti-tank shells head-on.
He knew very well that if he rushed in to hold Golden Geisha hostage, Gunpowder would smash him into pieces like a supersonic missile in a fraction of a second.
Even with his self-healing ability, under such an impact, he would just turn into a pile of rapidly healing mush.
One had to remember that Gunpowder was an expert at ramming planes.
During World War II, he was an air force representative; precisely targeting and destroying enemy fighter jets was his specialty.
Doing it to a human would only be faster.
“Brute force is impossible; it will never be possible in this lifetime.” “This old man is a living specimen of Compound V; his physical density is probably second only to that giant baby flying in the sky.” Chen Mo sat up straight, feeling the Telekinesis in his mind that was still as faint as a thread, and instantly abandoned the path of violence.
However, following the original plot wouldn’t work either.
If he remembered correctly, this Compound V would eventually be handed over to Homelander by Soldier Boy.
If he wanted to play the oriole behind the mantis, the pressure would be immense.
One was Butcher.
The other was Soldier Boy.
Although their moral values were a bit warped, neither was someone to be trifled with.
Ultimately, Chen Mo felt that the Compound V matter couldn’t be rushed; the key point still had to be placed on Golden Geisha.
He decided to go to the retirement home tomorrow to take a look.
Beside him, Fries let out a “quack,” as if supporting its master’s decision.
…
Meanwhile, Popclaw finally discovered that one vial of Compound V was missing.
“It’s gone?
What do you mean it’s gone?!” A-Train’s eyes, already bloodshot from the side effects of the drugs, appeared exceptionally ferocious at this moment.
He shoved Popclaw away violently, turning into a blur as he dashed frantically through the small apartment, the wind pressure causing the clutter on the table to scatter all over the floor.
“I clearly remember putting it there…
right in that box.” Popclaw’s face was deathly pale, her voice trembling.
“I just went to take a shower, and when I came out to check, one was missing.
It was still there yesterday…” “That’s my medicine!
That’s my lifeline to keep my position as the ‘World’s Fastest’!” A-Train stopped, clutching his hair tightly, and roared in anger.
He knew better than anyone that if he couldn’t produce the drug, he wouldn’t be able to compete against the up-and-coming superhero Shockwave on the track, and Homelander would kick him out of The Seven like trash.
“Check the surveillance…
Yes, check the surveillance!” Five minutes later, A-Train found the apartment’s surveillance footage and plugged it into his computer to start watching.
The footage was an overhead view of the master bedroom.
Shortly after the video showed Popclaw leaving, a bizarre scene occurred: The pile of messy underwear in the corner of the master bedroom suddenly seemed to be stirred by a gust of wind, and immediately after, that orange leather bag actually “stood” up on its own, without anyone touching it.
The zipper was slowly pulled open, the silver-white alloy container popped open, and a test tube filled with light blue liquid floated into mid-air out of thin air, then slowly drifted out of the bedroom.
Immediately after, the leather bag was casually tossed back into the pile of underwear, not even zipped up properly.
“Translucent…” A-Train spat out the name through gritted teeth.
Due to extreme anger and palpitations, his facial muscles were twitching slightly.
In Vought, in The Seven, the only one who could achieve this kind of “physical disappearance” and possessed such a perverse hobby of entering others’ master bedrooms to rummage through underwear piles was that perverted peeping tom.
“What does that bastard want with my medicine?
Someone with his constitution doesn’t need to accelerate their metabolism!” A-Train couldn’t figure it out at all; he didn’t know if Translucent was acting on behalf of someone else, or if he had just gone crazy.
But he knew that this matter had already spiraled out of his control.
A dozen minutes later, in the Vought Tower conference room.
Homelander also saw the footage.
“Did you see clearly?” A-Train pointed at the screen, his voice turning hoarse from anxiety.
“Besides that pervert, who could sneak into a place like this?
Who could take something right in front of the surveillance?” Homelander stared fixedly at that small segment of air distortion on the screen.
His X-ray-like eyes, capable of seeing through everything, surprisingly couldn’t detect a single anomaly in this footage.
“Translucent…” In his view, this was indeed Translucent’s method.
Translucent’s body surface had a layer of special carbon-polarized skin.
Although it could refract light to achieve invisibility, during high-speed movement or large-scale actions, the edges would indeed produce extremely faint optical distortions.
The distortion in the video was practically Translucent’s ID card.
“This brainless waste has been skipping work lately, and now he’s actually doing something like this.” Homelander smashed the tablet into a lump of scrap metal, electrical sparks jumping between his fingers.
“He took one, and left two behind?” Homelander sneered.
“What a principled thief.” “Maybe…
maybe he wants to take it for research?
Or sell it to competitors outside?” A-Train probed, fanning the flames.
“He hasn’t reported back to the tower lately, and Ashley has been looking for him like crazy.
I think he might be planning to defect.” “Defect?” Homelander turned around, his pair of azure eyes gradually turning red, emitting a dangerous humming sound.
“No one can betray me; only the dead.” He looked at A-Train, his tone turning gloomy.
“I’ll give you one hour to locate him through his chip.
Since he likes being invisible so much, I’ll stuff him into a transparent glass jar and have people stare at him every second from now on.” A-Train shrank his neck in embarrassment.
“Uh…
Homelander, Translucent’s tracking chip…
failed twenty-four hours ago.
The last coordinates where the signal appeared were in front of an adult store in Manhattan, and then it disappeared completely.” In reality, Translucent had long been stuffed into a Faraday cage by Butcher and his gang, and finally, the detonation button was pressed, turning him into bits of transparent minced meat flying all over the sky.
But here, this visual deception meticulously crafted by Chen Mo had pointed everyone’s spears at a dead man.
“Good, very good.” “Since he wants to play hide-and-seek, then I’ll play along with him personally.” After saying that, Homelander smashed through the glass and shot up into the sky, the sonic boom instantly shattering several adjacent curtain wall glass panels.