“Then what do you think ‘the real me’ is like?”
Homelander’s voice was very soft, yet it weighed on Lynn’s heart like a massive boulder.
This question was even more lethal than the last.
The entire room was terrifyingly quiet.
Lynn could even hear the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins.
In the monitoring room, Ashley and the others had their hearts in their throats.
They had no idea what shocking, earth-shattering words Lynn would say next.
Lynn remained silent for several seconds.
He was thinking, and he was also observing.
Homelander still wore a smile, but the scrutiny in his blue eyes was no longer concealed.
He was waiting for an answer—one that would satisfy him.
Directly insulting him as a monster would only bore him.
Continuing to flatter him as a god would only strike him as hypocritical.
He didn’t fear others calling him evil; what he feared was others seeing through his pathetic nature.
Lynn raised his head to meet that piercing gaze that could practically bore through a person.
“To answer this question, one thing must first be made clear,” Lynn’s voice rang out calmly.
“You are not a natural-born god.”
As those words fell, the smile on Homelander’s face faded by a fraction.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop even further.
Ignoring this invisible pressure, Lynn continued, “You are a manufactured god.”
“Vought International taught you how to smile, keeping the curve of your lips just right to be both friendly and majestic.”
“They taught you how to fly, how to extend your posture so you look grand and heroic on camera.”
“They taught you how to do interviews, using standard scripts to respond to tricky questions.”
“They even taught you what expression at a rescue scene looks most like a compassionate hero.”
These words were like a scalpel, precisely dissecting Homelander’s shiny, brilliant outer shell to expose the meticulously designed circuits and components beneath.
Homelander began to show signs of impatience.
“I know all of this,” he said, a chill creeping into his voice.
“Yes, you know it all,” Lynn nodded, before suddenly shifting his tone to a razor-sharp edge.
“But they taught you everything, except for one thing. No one ever taught you this.”
Lynn looked into Homelander’s eyes and delivered his final conclusion, word by word, clear and sharp.
“No one ever taught you how to be loved.”
These words were like an invisible needle, instantly puncturing the deepest, softest pustule in Homelander’s heart.
All of his pretense, all of his divinity, seemed utterly laughable at this moment.
Lynn’s voice echoed in the silent room, every word hammering heavily on Homelander’s heart.
“So, what is the real you like?”
“You are no god.”
“You are just a child who grew up without ever being truly loved by anyone.”
Dead silence.
Time seemed to freeze at this very moment.
Every expression on Homelander’s face vanished, leaving only a blank void.
He didn’t rage, he didn’t roar; he just sat there quietly, like a statue whose soul had been sucked dry.
This reaction was far more terrifying than any rage.
Because this wasn’t ordinary humiliation; it was a total exposure of his core.
This single sentence connected his childhood trauma, his Oedipus complex, his desire for control, his violent tendencies, and his fear of abandonment, presenting them all bloodily before his own eyes.
In the monitoring room, Ashley gasped, covering her mouth in terror as her whole body trembled.
“He’s insane… He’s truly lost his mind…”
“Quick! Prepare the emergency protocol! Highest level!”
“His physiological vitals… Oh my god, his emotional index has never fluctuated this violently before!”
*Crack—*
A crisp sound broke the silence.
The glass in Homelander’s hand had been unconsciously squeezed into powder.
Clear glass powder sifted down through the cracks of his tightly clenched fist.
He slowly raised his head, a smile of ultimate brilliance blooming on his face once more.
“Doctor…” he whispered, his voice so gentle it made one’s skin crawl.
“Do you know what happened to the last person who dared speak to me like this?”
A lethal threat rushed over Lynn.
Lynn’s back was already doused in cold sweat, but he knew that shrinking back now meant certain death.
He forced down his racing heartbeat, keeping his tone calm.
“You didn’t immediately incinerate me to ashes with your heat vision.”
Lynn looked directly at him, without a trace of fear in his eyes.
“That proves I was right.”
This single sentence was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
The smile on Homelander’s face vanished completely.
[Detected: Target Homelander is experiencing violent emotional fluctuations!]
[Emotional peak has breached the critical threshold!]
[Beginner Quest: Completed!]
[Rewards are being distributed…]
The system’s prompt rang out in Lynn’s mind, but he had absolutely no time to pay attention to it.
Because Homelander’s blue eyes had already lit up with a terrifying red glow.
A scorching heat began to permeate the air.
Lynn thought he was a dead man.
He had even prepared himself to be vaporized.
However, those two lethal red beams of light did not shoot toward him.
*Swoosh—!*
The red light flashed, precisely piercing the hidden surveillance camera in the corner of the room.
The camera instantly melted, emitting a puff of black smoke.
The screen in the monitoring room instantly turned to static.
“No!” Ashley let out a despairing shriek.
Having lost both video and audio, they had absolutely no idea what was happening inside.
Inside the consultation room, Homelander slowly withdrew his gaze, the red light in his eyes gradually fading away.
He stood up and walked over to Lynn, casting a massive shadow.
He lowered his head and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:
“This session… doesn’t need an audience.”