Minecraft: Steve came to the back room

But the Pantheon is a huge threat, and if they come looking for us again… I'm worried.”

"There's always a way out, John. We can't let our worries hold us back. Now that I've made up my mind, I'm willing to give my life for the superhero world I dream of."

"Yang, you are the real hero."

"No, John, you are the hero in my heart."

It's already a miracle that Homelander didn't turn into a monster after being imprisoned in a laboratory and subjected to all sorts of horrific experiments since childhood.

Yang Bo staggered as he walked out: "Then I'll go back first. You can contact me anytime if you need anything."

"You're doing this..."

"It's just that my life force has been depleted quite a bit, but I'll recover after a while."

Homelander stepped forward and took his arm: "Don't worry, there's a place to rest downstairs..."

"No need, I... don't really like places that are too cramped, haha, actually I usually sleep in an open-air bed."

In the main world, his bed is indeed outdoors.

Anna and the others also slept in matchboxes...

However, the Homelanders clearly had some misunderstandings.

"Outdoors? Yang, what exactly happened? Was he also imprisoned in a lab before? Does he have claustrophobia?"

"I'll take you out."

Yang Bo: "???"

I'm not gay!

She quickly adjusted her gait to make herself look less weak.

“I can handle it myself. Your injury has just healed, so get some rest tonight and contact me again tomorrow morning.”

After saying that, he left the basement without looking back.

Homelander watched his figure disappear into the hangar, about to speak but ultimately unable to utter a word.

'A hero?'

Can a freak like me really become a hero?

the other side.

After leaving the hangar and making sure Homelander wasn't watching him, Yang Bo "teleported" directly back to the lounge of the Vought Tower in New York.

'People from my homeland probably wouldn't consider me their father, right? Children generally lack maternal love, but not paternal love, that's for sure.'

He took out his phone, found the number French had left him, and dialed it.

The phone rang a few times before being answered.

"Hello, it's me, Yang Bo."

A tense, focused voice came from the other end of the phone, followed by a two-second pause before French's voice finally came through.

"Mr. Yang, what can I do for you?"

Upon hearing the sound, Yang Bo smiled and walked to Supercomputer No. 2, reaching out to tap the table.

"Did the butcher come looking for you?"

silence…

"Alright, no need to answer, French. Be careful of him. He only wants revenge. Whether you live or die is not important to him, understand?"

"clear."

Yang Bo didn't say much and hung up the phone directly.

"Number 2, help me locate French."

"Okay, sir, the location has been sent to your phone."

Yang Bo glanced at the location and then disappeared from the room.

In the cramped, dimly lit rented room in New York, gun parts were scattered all over the table, and the busy tone on the phone made French turn pale.

He clasped his hands together, his voice filled with weariness and pleading, staring intently at the sinister and ruthless butcher before him:

"Billy, I'm begging you, please stop."

Yang Bo is not someone we can afford to mess with. You'd better leave now, or you'll drag me and everyone else into this mess.

The butcher had one hand in his pocket and a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Stop your useless womanly sentimentality, Frenchie."

"When did you become so cowardly and timid? Did you lose all the courage you had when you followed me to take down Vought and hunt down superhumans?"

"That's different!"

French lowered his voice, sweat beading on his forehead: "Before, we fought against Vought, against out-of-control superhumans, but Yang Bo is different! He has greater power, and most importantly, he can find us easily."

"Going against him is not a risky move, it's suicide!"

"Sending them to their deaths?"

The butcher suddenly raised his hand, grabbed French by the collar, and slammed him against the wall with brute force.

Frenchman's breathing became labored, and his face flushed red.

"I'm already long dead."

"I'm not afraid of death, I'm only afraid that bastard will remain high and mighty, wearing the skin of a hero, living a carefree life and being admired by others!"

French stared at the crazed butcher, his PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) flaring up, his mind flashing with images he didn't want to face.

“No, the Butcher, he doesn’t care about Walter, and he doesn’t care about us…”

Suddenly, Yang Bo appeared in the small room.

"No, French, you're wrong about one thing. I care a lot about my own people."

"The only problem is whether you consider me one of your own."

Chapter 345 Do you believe me if I said I didn't mean it?

Bang... Bang...

The butcher reacted extremely quickly. He raised his large-caliber pistol, aimed it at Yang Bo who had suddenly appeared, and pulled the trigger.

But the next moment, all the bullets that were fired pierced into his own body.

"Tsk, I really like this way of greeting people."

Yang Bo looked at the butcher lying on the ground. Even if he had a strong will, he couldn't go against the science of human anatomy.

If someone can still chat and laugh with you after being shot five times, then we should take them back and study them carefully.

“Butcher, I understand your desire for revenge, and I understand the humiliation you have suffered.”

"Don't tell me it's for your lover; even for your own dog, some people would slaughter the entire Russian mafia."

Don't kill John Wick's dog!

Yang Bo pulled over a chair and sat down on it with obvious disdain.

"Frankie, I know you're a man, but shouldn't this room at least be cleaned up a bit?"

French looked at Yang Bo, who had suddenly appeared, and the butcher lying on the ground, his heart filled with complex emotions.

Yang Bo took out a roll of ordinary medical bandage from his backpack, pointed it at the butcher, and silently recited the instructions to use it.

The next moment, the medical bandages disappeared, the bleeding from the wound stopped, and even the speed of healing was visible to the naked eye.

However, the massive blood loss left the butcher pale and weak.

"Let's talk."

The butcher's eyes remained utterly sinister.

What do you want to talk about?

"Reassemble the Black Robe Watch to help me monitor superpowered individuals."

Upon hearing this, the Butcher couldn't help but mock him directly: "As a superhuman, you actually want others to supervise you? What? Do you want to put a collar on your dog's neck?"

puff--

One of the butcher's thighs suddenly disappeared, without blood or wound, as if it had never existed.

"What a foul mouth. Your wife was raped by Homelander, not me or French."

Yang Bo pinched the side of his nose:

"If you want revenge, then go ahead, but don't just drag others into it, take your anger out on other superpowered individuals as well."

Honestly, being your friend is really unlucky.

"All superhumans are a threat!! They should all be eliminated!"

The butcher glared at Yang Bo with a ferocious expression and roared.

"Yes, yes, yes! Then go ahead."

Do you need me to give you Homelander, Queen Maeve, and Black's contact information?

Oh, and Deepsea too. To be honest, I don't like that pervert Deepsea at all. If you were to take him down, I'd wholeheartedly support you.

Yang Bo got up, grabbed the butcher who had lost a leg, walked to the door, opened it, and threw the man out.

"Go and destroy the Deep Sea, don't let me look down on you."

boom--

The door was closed.

The butcher roared angrily from outside the door.

Back in the room, Yang Bo looked at the trembling Frenchman and comforted him:

“I told you, I am the Angel of Judgment, not the Angel of Slaughter. The Butcher will not die.”