Vought International conference room.
Vi's victory was playing on a loop on the screen.
Pink short hair, dust-streaked cheeks, and eyes that seemed somewhat dazed amidst the ruins.
News headlines in bold declared the return of order.
"Hero Vi, Iron Fist Ends Dock Riot!"
"Vought International Proves Again: Power Needs Reins!"
Vought International's stock price candlestick chart traced a reassuring, slightly upward curve.
Motoko Kusanagi stood to the side, reporting in a steady voice.
"The public opinion guidance for the dock incident has been completed; 73% of respondents believe that unregistered super-powered individuals pose a direct threat to social security."
"Vi's personal approval rating has risen by 12%, especially among the youth demographic. Her signature jacket has sold out three times in our online store."
"Our allies in Congress have begun drafting the second phase of the amendment to the 'Act,' proposing to expand the Bureau's enforcement authority."
Everything was as perfect as a textbook.
Lynn walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey, neat.
The amber liquid swayed gently in the glass.
He did not look at those exhilarating figures.
There was no joy on his face that a victor should have.
It felt like watching an old movie with the same ending a hundred times in a row.
Every plot twist, every line of dialogue, even the exact moment the audience would gasp, were all etched into his memory.
Perfect.
Therefore, boring.
The office door opened.
Several executives from the Public Relations Department and the Strategic Department walked in, preparing for the weekly routine meeting.
Each of their faces wore just the right amount of excitement and awe.
Motoko Kusanagi distributed a document to everyone.
The title was: "New Hero 'Paladin' Debut Plan."
It was a handsome man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile so sunny it could be printed on a toothpaste advertisement.
The backstory was set as a devout orphan raised in a church who accidentally awakened the ability of "Divine Protection."
"According to our market model analysis, the 'Paladin' persona can perfectly fill the conservative market gap outside of Starlight."
"His image is positive enough, and his abilities lean towards defense, so he won't trigger public concerns about destructive power."
"We have already coordinated with the leaders of the largest Christian communities, and they are very satisfied with this setup. We anticipate that in the first quarter after his debut, he will bring in at least $200 million in merchandise and brand endorsement revenue."
The head of the Strategic Department immediately added, their voice tinged with the slickness of someone eager to claim credit.
"Moreover, his existence can effectively hedge against Vi's overly rebellious street style, making our hero portfolio appear... balanced and more unassailable. A complete brand matrix that covers all age and faith groups, boss."
Lynn turned around and leaned against the liquor cabinet.
He did not look at the perfect "Paladin," but instead looked at everyone present.
"Aren't you tired of this?"
The smiles on the executives' faces vanished, and they didn't dare to breathe too loudly.
"Black Iron, Soundwave, that worker at the dock who could control metal..."
Lynn's fingertips tapped lightly against the glass, making a crisp sound.
"What is the fundamental difference in their performances?"
"Anger, loss of control, creating a pile of scrap metal, and then being defeated by our heroes in an even flashier way. The only difference is whether they are smashing cars or shipping containers."
He paused, looking at the cowering executives.
"These guys are just a bunch of giant babies who only know how to smash things."
"The audience feels excited the first time they see it, reassured the tenth time, but by the hundredth time, they will only... feel sleepy."
He raised his glass and took a sip.
"Now, you want to serve me the exact same dish again, just on a prettier plate."
The executive who had been gushing just a moment ago had fine beads of sweat forming on their forehead.
Lynn drained the whiskey in his glass.
"What we need right now is not a hero, but a villain."
"A true, supervillain."
Lynn's gaze swept past everyone and landed on Hannibal Lecter, who had remained silent in the corner.
"Dr. Lecter."
Dr. Hannibal Lecter looked up, interest glimmering in his eyes.
"I need you to design a character."
Lynn's voice became low.
"He must have a tragic past, so that all his extreme actions have a root that can be understood, or even sympathized with."
"We want people to have a tiny voice in their hearts asking when they curse him: If it were me, would I also have become like this?"
"He must have a paranoid ideal, a twisted philosophy that is completely opposed to the 'order' we advocate. He must make a portion of the audience, while fearing him, unable to help but wonder if what he says... might also have a grain of truth."
"He is not doing this for money, not for power; he is doing it for a false truth he firmly believes in."
"He must have the determination to destroy everything, combined with an elegant, artistic destructiveness. Every appearance of his must be a catastrophe, a visual feast. When he destroys a bridge, it must be like a conductor finishing their final movement. He must make people feel a sort of morbid beauty amidst their fear."
Lynn walked to the conference table, placed his hands on the surface, and leaned forward.
He swept his gaze over every executive present, whose faces had turned pale.
"He will be the nightmare of the current heroes."
"He will completely crush the light of Starlight and make Vi's iron fists look like a joke."
"He will tear a shocking gash in the false peace we have built with our own hands."
Lynn paused.
"And then, he will become the most successful 'product' in Vought International's history."
"Because only in the face of the deepest darkness will people spare no cost to grasp even a glimmer of light."
"And we will be the only ones selling that light."
The conference room fell into silence.
Everyone was stunned into speechlessness by Lynn's crazy and bold concept.
Only Dr. Hannibal Lecter remained.
His eyes shone with an almost fanatical light of excitement.
It was not the obedience of a subordinate receiving an order.
It was a top-tier artist who had finally waited for an unprecedented creative opportunity to pour all his talent and passion into.
He stood up and straightened his cravat.
"A charmingly complex and extremely dangerous soul."
Dr. Hannibal Lecter's voice carried an irrepressible pleasure.
"Using the deepest pain in the world as the embryo, fermenting it with the most paranoid philosophy, and finishing it off with the most magnificent destruction. This is not just a character, boss; this is a work of art."
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