Chapter 115: Kill That Hero!
Ben Harris swaggered down the street of his "territory," his large stomach protruding. He would occasionally harass the street vendors and prostitutes, grabbing a handful as he passed. He was a fleshy man, and his 180cm-plus height just made him look bulky and awkward in his too-tight, elastic suit. It was a ridiculous sight.
But the only ones who dared to laugh were the middle-class and elite, the ones in suits. Bobby and the other gang members didn't dare let their expressions shift. Because they were gang members, they were automatically in the wrong. If a conflict ever broke out, [Regenerator], as a Vought-affiliated hero, would be seen as having a "justifiable reason" to punish them.
This was the injustice reserved for these "villains." Of course, if they were actual supervillains, it would just be a classic case of dog-eat-dog. But the slums were never short of "good" people who had been forced onto the wrong path.
Bobby gave a signal from behind Ben. A young man, who had come from the same background as Bobby—forced to drop out of school due to family tragedy and now working multiple jobs to support his sick mother and younger sister—stepped forward.
Little John's eyes were still full of fear, but Ance gave him a shove. He was young, but his black skin hid his age well. He peeked out from behind Bobby, looked at Regenerator's comical appearance, and said, just loud enough for the people nearby to hear, "Who's this fat pig in the spandex? He looks ridiculous."
Bobby immediately put on a panicked expression and tried to pull Little John back, but Ben Harris had already turned, his face dark. He strode directly toward them.
"Bobby of the B45," he sneered. "You've got some new faces. I guess you forgot to teach them who runs this neighborhood."
He grabbed Bobby by the hair with one hand and seized Little John by the neck with the other, dragging them both into a secluded alley. The people on the street saw it all and looked away. A hero teaching a few street punks a lesson? Perfectly normal.
Ance, meanwhile, had already pulled out a camera and was following them, recording everything.
[Regenerator] dragged the two men down the alley. Bobby's ear was already bleeding from being pulled, but he kept his eyes fixed on the ground, his expression hateful, enduring the pain and swearing that he would make this bastard pay.
At the same time, on the other side of the neighborhood, George was filming with his phone, mimicking the style of a documentary. He was at Little John's home. The boy's mother was lying in a dirty bed. Two little girls were trying to wipe her face with a cloth. George was guiding them, asking them to talk about John.
At the mention of his name, the sick woman, who could barely sit up, couldn't stop talking. "The happiest thing in my life was giving birth to John. But the thing I'm most ashamed of... is that I couldn't give him a good home. He's so smart, so hardworking and kind. He's better than anyone. He juggles his schoolwork, taking care of us, working part-time... he even gets along with all his friends… he does everything so well…"
George skillfully panned the camera to the two little girls. When they talked about their brother, their faces were full of pride. "Johnny takes care of us! He even helps us with our homework at night! He said he's going to make a lot of money so we can all move out of this neighborhood one day…"
George saw that the live-stream was starting to get a few scattered comments. Some asked if this was a new reality show. Others asked if it was fake. George ignored them all. He just kept filming the family's poverty, showing the camera John's old academic awards, and watching the clock.
Finally, the stream had nearly a hundred viewers. Some recognized the slum, and others were already offering to donate. In the past, George would have been thrilled to get money this way. But today, he had a bigger goal. He knew his boss had a grand plan. If it succeeded, they might just become the most respected gang in America.
Seeing the viewer count plateau, he knew that just showing their suffering wouldn't hold the audience. He spoke up. "I think today is John's payday, right? Why don't I take you two to go find him? If we're lucky, maybe he can buy us all a nice meal?"
The two little girls nearly jumped for joy. Their mother was hesitant, but John had already told her that George was a good friend. She let her daughters go with him.
On the way, George kept filming, showing the stream all the sights of the slum: the poverty, the homeless, the drunks passed out on the street. The chat room was buzzing. As they neLootheir destination, the other gang members on the street corners all waved and said hello to George and the girls, playing the part of friendly neighborhood peacekeepers.
A short time later, they arrived near the McDonald's where John "worked." The two little girls saw their brother's back in the distance and immediately ran toward him, shouting.
George, of course, aimed his camera right at them.
The next second.
BAM!
A massive fist slammed into Little John's face. He flew two meters, landing in a heap on the pavement. His cheek instantly swelled up, and blood began to pour from his nose and mouth, along with several of his teeth.
This scene made the entire live-stream audience gasp. They had just been building up this image of a pitiful but inspiring young man, and now they were watching him get brutally beaten.
The two little girls saw it and ran to their brother, screaming. John tried to get up, but he was too unsteady. He fell, weakly waving his hand, trying to tell his sisters to stay back. But they were too young to understand and just rushed to his side, trying to help him up.
[Regenerator] looked at the two little black girls in their tattered clothes, smelling the characteristic odor of the slums. He frowned and spat. "This little bastard has sisters? You poor people really do breed like pigs, don't you."
Hearing his sisters insulted, John, delirious with rage, tried to lunge at him. But one of the little girls was faster. A girl from the slums was no pure, innocent flower. She ran up and bit Regenerator hard on the leg.
In the distance, Bobby and his crew, who were watching this all unfold, frowned. They were gangsters, yes, but they also had a sense of duty to their neighborhood. They looked at their boss, but Kaito just raised his hand, signaling them to wait.
"Ance, get a good shot," Kaito said. "Your video and George's live-stream are the first step in our rise to power."
His eyes were filled with a curious, analytical expression. This was the first time he had completely ignored a main quest, focusing entirely on a Milestone and consciously guiding the rise of a new faction.
With his Vought reputation already in the negative, and having no faith in [The Boys] faction—whether it was Butcher's dictatorial style or their general lack of power—he knew they were in no position to challenge Vought.
In this world, there were only two things that could truly rein in Vought. One was the US government and military, many of whom were already tired of the Supes' growing power. The other, and the one Homelander truly cared about, was public opinion.
Vought was a pharmaceutical company that had created [Compound V], but it had transformed itself into a media and entertainment conglomerate that managed over 200 Supes, controlling the narrative, the movies, and even private security. Every Supe was a brand, their persona carefully crafted and maintained by PR. And all of them, especially Homelander, were slaves to the very public opinion that had put them on their thrones.
SLAP!
A loud smack. The little girl was sent flying like a rag doll.
The sight of it almost made John's heart stop. He instinctively looked toward where Bobby and Kaito were, then screamed and crawled toward his sister. She rolled a few times on the ground and then lay still, either unconscious or dead.
In George's live-stream, the chat was now just a solid wall of question marks, followed by an explosion of curses and accusations. Someone recognized [Regenerator]. More and more people were saying they were calling 911.
George, his camera shaking, rushed forward, subtly aiming his phone at Regenerator. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear his own voice. "Regenerator! You're a hero! Why would you hit a little girl?!" He "accidentally" dropped his phone to the ground, but the camera was still recording.
Regenerator, however, didn't even care about this scum. Even if he was recording, his agent and Vought's PR team would bury it.
"Little girl?" he laughed. "You mean that little piglet? At the end of the day, you're all just the dregs of society. No one cares if you get beaten. Hell, I'd probably be doing the world a favor if I just killed all of you. Hahaha…"
His speech made Kaito nod in satisfaction. It was even better than the script he'd had in mind. He didn't even need George to prompt him; the "hero" was self-destructing all on his own, his sense of superiority on full display.
Clap. Clap. Clap…
The sudden sound of applause made Ben Harris freeze. He turned around and saw a massive group of gang members standing in the distance, all staring at him. Their eyes held none of their usual fear. Only hatred.
Kaito was orchestrating a performance, but the humiliation that these low-life gang members felt, this lifetime of being insulted and ignored by society, was real.
"Bobby. Who's this yellow-skinned fellow?" Ben Harris sneered, still puffing out his stomach. "Your new boyfriend?"
Kaito nodded at George. For the first time, George aimed the phone's camera at his own face. He put on a tragic, determined expression for the now-thousand-plus viewers in his stream.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice shaking with what he was surprised to find was genuine, unscripted emotion. "I have to end the stream now. Because… because I'm about to do something that the law won't forgive. But I hope you all understand… it's something I must do."
"I'm going to kill that hero!"
"For our neighborhood! For our children! Even if it costs me my life!"
The live-stream abruptly ended.