“Anyone who gets close to him dies in the end.”
Maeve’s words stuck in Lynn’s memory like a cold needle.
He returned to his desk, closed the door, and sat alone in the darkness.
The purplish bruise on his neck still throbbed with a dull ache, like a gruesome brand, constantly reminding him of just how close to the edge of hell he had crawled back from.
He knew very well that Maeve wasn’t issuing a warning; she was stating a fact.
But he was equally aware that he no longer had any way out.
From the moment he chose to speak his first truth to Homelander, he had been dragged into a hazardous game of dancing with a god—one from which there was no escape.
The intercom on his desk rang urgently, interrupting his thoughts.
It was Ashley.
Her voice sounded more anxious and raspy than ever before.
“Dr. Lynn, come to the penthouse conference room immediately. The board members are all waiting for you.”
Lynn hung up, adjusted his collar, and his expression returned to its usual composure.
He knew that Vought’s “evaluation” of him was only truly beginning now.
In the penthouse emergency conference room, the atmosphere was as oppressive as the sea before a storm.
Seated around the long table were the heads of Vought International’s various departments: Ashley, the Director of Public Relations; the head of Legal; the Vice President of Hero Management…
Every face was a mask of solemnity.
When Lynn walked in, everyone’s eyes snapped to him.
These were no longer the looks given to an ordinary employee or a temporary consultant.
They were filled with wariness, scrutiny, curiosity, and a poorly concealed dread.
“Dr. Lynn,” the VP of Hero Management spoke first, attempting a businesslike tone to mask his nervousness.
“Regarding yesterday… and what happened today, the board requires an explanation.”
“I have nothing to explain,” Lynn said calmly as he took an empty seat.
“I merely did my job—stabilizing Mr. Homelander’s emotions.”
The head of Legal sneered.
“Your ‘stabilizing’ almost got Director Ashley and the entire crisis management team melted by heat vision.”
Ashley’s face paled, clearly recalling that terrifying moment.
“But in the end, they are all still alive, aren’t they?” Lynn countered.
A brief silence fell over the conference room.
“After discussion, the board believes we must redefine your position and authority.”
He slid a document in front of Lynn.
“Homelander’s Exclusive Psychological Consultant Appointment and Non-Disclosure Agreement”.
“Starting today, you will officially become Mr. Homelander’s exclusive psychological consultant, reporting directly to the board.”
“Your security clearance will be raised to the highest level. All of your communications will be protected by Vought.”
“In return, you will need to sign this agreement, ensuring that all of your work serves the best interests of Vought International.”
Lynn didn’t even look at the agreement.
This so-called “protection” was just tighter surveillance.
This “reporting” was just more direct control.
Having realized they couldn’t bypass him, Vought International had chosen another way—fitting him with a shinier, sturdier collar.
Just as Lynn was about to open his mouth to state his conditions, the heavy door of the conference room was pushed open without warning.
*Bang!*
Homelander walked in, wearing his blue suit and sporting a smile.
In an instant, all sound in the room vanished.
Every executive, including the VP, instinctively stood up from their chairs, forcing stiff, placating smiles onto their faces.
Homelander ignored them all.
His gaze swept past everyone and landed directly on Lynn.
Then, in a casual tone as if discussing the weather, he said to everyone in the room:
“This is not a discussion.”
“This is a notification.”
He walked up behind Lynn and gently rested a hand on his shoulder.
The gesture was full of unquestionable possessiveness.
“From today on, Dr. Lynn reports only to me.”
Homelander’s gaze swept over the room, his blue eyes filled with the disdain of a god looking down at ants.
“Your job is to cooperate with him, not interrogate him.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the conference room.
No one dared to have an objection.
The head of Legal, who had been so aggressive just moments ago, didn’t even dare to raise his head now.
Ashley’s lips twitched, seemingly wanting to say something about company protocol, but upon meeting Homelander’s seemingly warm yet icy-cold gaze, she instantly swallowed her words.
Homelander smiled with satisfaction.
Right in front of Vought’s entire upper management, in the most direct and overbearing manner, he declared his absolute ownership of Lynn.
Lynn was no longer an employee of Vought.
He was the private property of a god.
This so-called emergency meeting ended in a hasty, awkward, and terrified silence.
The executives fled the room in a hurry, as if escaping a plague.
“Doctor,” Homelander’s voice sounded behind him.
“I heard Vought arranged a very nice apartment for you.”
Lynn didn’t turn around, simply replying calmly, “Yes.”
“I don’t like it,” Homelander said.
“Too many people there. Too noisy.”
He pulled a black keycard from his pocket, set it on the table, and slid it toward Lynn.
“Move into The Seven Tower.”
“The penthouse, the room right next to mine. I’ve already had Ashley prepare it.”
This wasn’t a negotiation; it was a command.
Lynn looked at the black card—the ticket to a top-tier cage—without a ripple of emotion.
Homelander seemed pleased with his composure.
He turned to leave, but stopped at the door.
He didn’t look back, delivering his final words in a casual tone.
“Oh, and Doctor.”
“Since you are my exclusive consultant now…”
“In the future, don’t let me hear about you from anyone else’s mouth.”