Conquering the Multiverse Starting with the Black Robe

Let's rewind three minutes.

New York, suburbs.

An underground dispatch and command center.

Edgar sat quietly in the leather chair at the head of the table, his face as calm as still water, his expression somber.

"Headshot Girl" Newman sat silently beside her, her delicate eyebrows slightly furrowed, lost in thought.

In front of them.

The screen shook violently, accompanied by howling winds, gas explosions, blasts, screams, and a series of bloody scenes of people being torn apart, leaving viewers dazzled.

The image comes from a specially designed miniature camera mounted on the goggles that provide the view of a bomb.

Every detail of the scene is transmitted here in real time from a dynamic first-person perspective.

Several technicians whispered among themselves. The female supervisor standing next to Edgar held a tablet computer, her eyes glued to the constantly updating data on the screen. Like a battlefield commentator, she reported rapidly, "Mr. Edgar, the target has been blasted out of 'Vought Planet.' The bomb's vision has led the villains into the Green Building on Broadway."

Her tone was restrained, but she couldn't hide the shock in her heart. "Based on the sensors installed on the Bomb Vision suit, the real-time collision volume is estimated. The impact force of the Bomb Vision suit during the first head-on collision is equivalent to the power of ten tons of TNT explosion, and the speed is at least Mach 3!"

The attack instantly breached the villain's defensive barrier, but unfortunately, the villain possessed exceptional regenerative abilities and was not seriously injured. The two are currently engaged in close-quarters combat, with the bomb providing a significant advantage in vision.

Edgar tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, listening to the technicians' incessant chatter without responding.

He just squinted at Rean, who was being punched repeatedly by the bomb's vision, his nose bleeding profusely, and he was forced to retreat and could only barely defend himself.

On that dark face that always seemed to be in complete control, calm and ruthless, a noticeable upward curve finally appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"As I said, this is the consequence of breaking the rules. Those who stand in our way will surely fail and will eventually be crushed mercilessly by our advancing steps."

Even though Rean has shown great strength, and even possesses some kind of strange evolutionary ability that he doesn't understand, which has created many problems, such as the fact that it is now impossible to stop the spread of the villain persona that damages the company's image on the Internet through the public relations department.

The title of "villain" has become synonymous with anti-humanity and has even begun to transform into a symbol, forming a kind of rebellious symbol. If it is not stopped, it may be used by those who hate Walter to sound the horn of resistance.

But once he really takes it seriously, Rean's good days are over. Don't even think about him jumping around on his face anymore.

Edgar convened a meeting of the Waters board overnight. After a unanimous decision, the villain was no longer facing his personal grudges, but rather the most powerful and dominant company in the United States, and even the world, without exception.

Over the years, they had faced countless enemies. In Edgar's eyes, the villain was nothing more than a lab rat that had escaped from a laboratory. Admittedly, he had caused some trouble.

Ultimately, he's just a nobody with no powerful backing, and he can't cause any trouble.

The Walters remained steadfast, and no one could challenge their dominance.

Edgar clasped his hands together, his tone returning to its usual indifference, befitting someone long accustomed to their high position: "Whether they are Homelanders or villains."

As long as they are products created using Compound V, they cannot escape the brand label. We will always find ways to control them. No one can break the rules of the game; this is not something that can be changed by individual effort, but rather an inevitable trend.

Reanna's skills, which she had learned from Xuanse, were like martial arts techniques that had been honed through countless trials. However, when faced with a monster like Bomb Vision, which was purely based on numerical values, they seemed like fancy moves but no substance.

Just like what he did to Xuanse, it can be considered that he was being treated the same way he had been treated, and he experienced the despair of being overwhelmed by numerical superiority for the first time.

Even in a stalemate where physical exertion is at its peak, the Bomb Vision can use its superior physical strength to wear down the opponent. Even superhumans must abide by the law of conservation of energy; the villain's self-healing ability cannot continue indefinitely and will eventually reach its limit.

Moreover, Edgar doesn't only have Bomb Vision as a card in his hand. Aside from Storm and Shockwave on the field, there are dozens of superhumans at his disposal in Manhattan alone.

The only thing to be careful about is keeping Homelander under control if he is suspected of betraying Vought and joining the villains.

He now has the situation firmly under control, and is just waiting for the bomb to kill the villain and bring this farce to a complete end.

"Darling, could you please bring over the champagne from that counter over there?" Edgar coughed lightly and instructed Newman beside him.

Newman looked at the old man in surprise. "Opening champagne now? Isn't that a bit too early?"

In response to Newman's question, Edgar gave a confident smile. "Why not? This is worth celebrating. You haven't had dinner yet, have you? Perhaps I..."

However, before the smile in Edgar's eyes could fully spread...

A low growl suddenly resounded, like the howl of a trapped beast, or the awakening of a ferocious prehistoric creature, cutting off the conversation between the father and daughter.

Edgar's brows furrowed sharply, and he immediately turned around, staring intently at the screen.

From the bomb's perspective, Rean, who was originally confronting him, suddenly spread his legs and growled in a deep voice.

Immediately afterwards, a deafening shout, like muffled thunder, exploded in the command room.

"One hundred and thirty percent of my power!"

Immediately, they saw Rean's body begin to grow in a way that defied the natural growth pattern of the human body, stretching outwards in an extremely savage manner. His bones cracked and stretched outwards, and the muscle mass that should have been diluted instead bulged up as if inflated. His entire body expanded rapidly and abnormally under the continuous low growls!

The female technical supervisor standing nearby was stunned, nearly dropping her grip on the equipment. "My God, what happened?!"

Edgar's expression was uncertain. He exchanged a glance with Newman, and both saw the shock in each other's eyes.

The young man, who had been struggling to hold on against the relentless barrage of bombs on the screen, now had his skin turn a deep, reddish-brown, like a branding iron!

Large plumes of scalding white smoke rose, along with terrifying dark red energy, erupting outwards from within.

Rean's body twisted and deformed, his veins coiled like snakes, and his skeleton grew taller and taller with cracking sounds. In just a few breaths, he transformed into a muscular man as big as a small mountain.

That violent posture had long transcended the realm of humanity; simply standing there motionless was terrifyingly powerful, filling the entire frame.

The terrifying sense of oppression and the visually striking figures made everyone in the command room forget to breathe, even through the screen.

Within the camera's view, the bombs, facing the pressure head-on, perceive Rean's changes far more directly than they do.

If Rean before only posed a slight threat and required serious attention, then now it felt like facing a humanoid Tyrannosaurus Rex, his number one mortal enemy.

Alarm bells rang in his heart. Even after years of retirement, his sense of danger remained sharp. As a soldier, his superhuman intuition, honed through countless battles, constantly reminded him.

If you're careless, you'll die!

After his expression changed several times, his focus on the bomb finally settled.

He cannot back down; he still has loved ones he needs to protect.

However, the onlookers in the command center could not see any change in his expression; the monitoring data could only observe that his heartbeat gradually stabilized in the bomb's field of vision.

A few seconds later, he seemed to finally come to his senses from the shocking scene, mustered his courage, and, with the aim of striking first, made a bold move.

The bomb took off from its spot, crashing forward like a mortar shell being fired, unleashing a superhuman punch—a punch powerful enough to shatter a tank—and in the next instant, slammed into the giant's chest muscles.

hit!

"How is this possible?!" Robbie, who should have been happy, was stunned because the feeling he was receiving from his usually invincible fist was wrong. It was as if he had crashed into a boulder and made a dull, lifeless sound like a sandbag hitting the ground.

To an outsider, this scene looked like a kindergarten child challenging a tall adult to a duel—a futile and pointless act, like an ant trying to shake a tree.

"Not bad. Three minutes ago, I definitely wouldn't have been able to withstand that punch." Rean slowly exhaled a breath of hot white air, standing still without taking a step back, only his chest tilted slightly to the side.

Looking at the bomb's field of vision, however, he was thrown off balance by the recoil, his arm feeling weak and numb.

However, before he could even get up, a wildly grinning, utterly tyrannical face rapidly magnified in his suddenly contracting pupils.

A palm the size of Doraemon's head, carrying wind pressure and shadow, came crashing down like a dark cloud covering the sky!

"This is my return gift!"

boom!

The live stream suddenly lost signal and abruptly ended with a terrifying loud bang, like a ball being smashed.

A gasp rang out in the room, followed by a deathly silence so profound you could hear a pin drop.

Edgar stared intently at the screen, which was flashing static, feeling his mouth dry, his back soaked with cold sweat, and his breathing becoming rapid and labored.

Something called unease quietly sprouted in his heart.