Conquering the Multiverse Starting with the Black Robe

Noisy!

The red light in the eyes of the people of the motherland went out, and they let go.

The man's body lost its support and fell to the ground, with two steaming bloody holes in his eyes.

"John!"

Maeve huffed from behind, her eyes blazing with anger. She rushed forward and demanded, "Why did you do this? He's already surrendered!"

"Don't get so worked up, Maeve. I'm sorry, I did go a bit too far just now." Although he apologized, Homelander seemed unconcerned. Killing an ordinary person with a ray wouldn't add any psychological burden to him.

"Too much? You think you can just dismiss this with a single word like 'too much'? Are you crazy? You promised him, you made a commitment!" Maeve frowned, finding Homelander utterly unreasonable. His capricious behavior made her extremely uncomfortable.

"Come on, Maeve. Calm down and be rational."

Homelander rolled his eyes, picked up his rifle from the ground, and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "What do you want me to do? This absolutely cannot be allowed in the media. Think about it, Maeve. You're not stupid. Who would donate money to a robber who shot and killed a police officer?"

Maeve's mouth opened and closed, and after a few breaths, she swallowed her rebuttal. She glared at Homerman, suppressing her anger, and changed the subject, saying, "That was the person I was supposed to arrest. Are you planning to make me bring a corpse onto the Today Show?"

"Oh, so that's why you're angry—you feel like I stole your credit?"

Homelander couldn't help but chuckle, speaking in a tone as if he were coaxing a lover, "Okay, I'll make it up to you. I'll have someone arrange more variety shows for you, airing during the best time slots, and I'll make a guest appearance as a special guest. That should boost your popularity quite a bit."

"Gard, that's why we broke up. You think this makes me happy? You don't understand what I'm talking about at all, John. You don't care what other people say, as long as it doesn't concern you, it's just a passing breeze." Maeve rubbed her forehead, completely unable to reason with this self-righteous man.

"I don't care?" Homelander tilted his head, looking somewhat impatient. He sighed softly and shook his finger at the woman beside him. "Don't drag your own issues into this, Maeve. This isn't just my fault, and our breakup wasn't solely due to this. We've discussed it."

Moreover, I'm not as cold-blooded as you say. I'm a sentimental person, and I care about that child.

Maeve crossed her arms noncommittally, her voice cold, "I just don't want to see a child's father die in front of me."

"Me too, that fallen officer was a hero." Homelander's smile remained unchanged, but he narrowed his eyes and held the gun in one hand. "You know the rules, he fired at us first."

Da da da!

A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened, and the two walked out of the lobby one after the other.

Reporters crowded outside the cordon and began shouting as soon as Homelander appeared, but they were prevented from crossing the line by Secret Service agents.

"Guys, you guys are the real heroes!"

Homelander flashed an impeccable smile and waved to the crowd from afar. "Don't let it slip, Maeve. I'll pay for all of the child's medical expenses. With my help, God will be on his side. He'll be special because of it, and he'll definitely get better."

"Is that so? It's a pity his poor old father will never see this day." Maeve sneered, about to retort with a few more words, when Homelander reached out and pressed down on her shoulder.

Those blue eyes were filled with seriousness, and a hint of hidden displeasure. "Meve, don't be like this. I've tolerated you time and time again because I have feelings for you."

"I'm right. The truth will only destroy that child. How is he supposed to face all this? How is he supposed to know that his father is a murderer?"

"Media coverage of this matter may attract public attention and draw the attention of a few 'well-meaning' people."

But it will also have negative consequences. I'm not kidding, I've seen this kind of thing many times. Those online trolls don't care if you have cancer or not. Do you want to see someone unable to withstand the pressure of public opinion and commit suicide?

"He's already an adult, not a child. Americans are even less tolerant of adults. If this gets publicized, and the whole neighborhood knows about his family's scandal, how will he be able to face society after he recovers?"

"..." Maeve glanced at him sideways, brushing his hand away. "Next time you do something like this, I need a heads-up. Can't you consider other people's feelings? Don't just do whatever you want!"

"What did you say?" Homelander's expression froze, his eye twitching slightly—a premonition of his outburst. "I'm the leader of the seven-man squad. I've made a decision. Obey me. No need to consult anyone!"

"Homelander!" A soft exclamation broke the tense atmosphere.

Ashley, panting, jogged over in her high heels, her expression excited. She nearly twisted her ankle several times during the short distance of just a few dozen meters.

"Homelander... Queen Maeve..."

She stopped in front of the two men, gave a nervous smile, looked at Homer, took a deep breath, and said respectfully, "Sir, Mr. Edgar is looking for you."

"Edgar?" Homelander frowned slightly, a hint of displeasure flashing in his eyes. That old guy never spoke to him on his own initiative, always issuing orders through Madeline as a messenger. This time, however, he directly asked to see him, which could not be a good thing.

"What does he want to tell me?"

Ashley didn't speak, but silently glanced at Maeve beside her. Maeve twisted her wrist and smiled back.

Homelander's eyes flashed, quite pleased with her tact. He smiled and looked at the woman properly for the first time. "Ashley, Maeve is no stranger. Speak your mind, there's no need to hold back."

"Yes, sir." Ashley had gotten to where she was today thanks to her ability to read people, and with permission, she continued, "Sir, I don't know much, but I think it's related to villains..."

As she said this, she lowered her voice, afraid that her New Year's words would anger this terrifying man, but she had to speak carefully, saying, "Mr. Edgar is waiting for you in his office. He said... he doesn't trust anyone else to handle this matter."

Homelander's eyes flickered slightly, and he nodded. "I understand." He then pointed at Maeve with his finger. "Remember what I said."

Then, with legs slightly bent and arms crossed above the head, he prepares for takeoff.

Swoosh!

"Ah! Bullseye!"

French's triumphant laughter echoed in the basement as he swayed his body and blew kisses at the dart.

"Not bad accuracy." Rean smiled without saying anything, "But you're getting ahead of yourself, French."

He sat on the sofa, not even bothering to stand up, grabbed a handful of darts from the table, tossed them a couple of times to feel their weight, then his movements became blurry as he casually tossed all the darts away.

Several sharp whooshing sounds pierced the air. French rubbed his eyes and found that his dart, which was stuck in the bullseye, had been knocked down. In its place were five darts that Rean had casually thrown, densely packed together on the same center point.

"This isn't fair! I don't have superpowers!"

French scratched his head, exclaiming; he had made a bet.

"You want superpowers? There are plenty on the table, just give yourself a shot." Rean forced a wicked grin and egged him on.