Fortunately, Herman had no informants inside S.H.I.E.L.D.
Otherwise, if he ever learned that the twisted title "Homelander" had been officially certified by an agency like S.H.I.E.L.D. and pinned on the head of a law-abiding citizen like him, he'd probably ignite his divinity and storm through their headquarters half a dozen times over..
Once branded like that by an official agency, how could he ever wash away the stain of that role? Nick Fury should be grateful Herman remained unaware for now.
...
"Carrie, how come you eat so much and never gain weight?" At noon, Herman had organized a rare company lunch.
With foresight, he picked a buffet restaurant. At $400 per head, it counted as fairly high-end.
"My doctor says I have excellent digestion," replied the doll-like beauty without even lifting her head.
No one knew what strange ability let Carrie speak so clearly while eating nonstop. By now, she had already polished off twenty plates of seafood.
The restaurant staff had long swapped the floor manager for the owner himself, whose sour expression made it clear he wasn't happy.
"Not bad, not bad. A good appetite's a blessing." Herman grinned, though inwardly he scoffed. As if anyone could believe such a ridiculous excuse.
"If only I had that kind of big-eater constitution." Well, apparently someone did believe it.
That someone was Skye.
She stared at Carrie with open envy. Her own stomach was already stuffed to the limit, yet she was still trying to force another shrimp ball into her mouth.
"Don't worry, it's fine—at least for today. If you feel too full, just rub your stomach and it'll digest right away."
Still chewing seafood, Carrie slipped off a glove, freed a hand, and rubbed Skye's belly.
"Huh? I really don't feel that stuffed anymore!"
Skye lit up in surprise, convinced she'd just witnessed a medical miracle. Without a shred of doubt, she jumped straight into the feast.
One plate.
Two plates.
Good grief.
Her appetite was like she'd become a different person.
"Heh."
Herman watched the scene unfold, more convinced than ever that Carrie, their accountant, was a mutant… A mutant with a monstrous appetite, one who could even turn others into bottomless pits.
How had he never noticed a character like this when reading Marvel in his past life? The thought puzzled him, though he didn't dwell on it.
After all, Carrie's ability, aside from satisfying her foodie cravings, had no real value. It offered zero potential in battle.
No wonder she'd never shown up in the X-Men storyline. Still, he couldn't help but wonder—after eating that much, what would her trips to the bathroom be like?
"My health isn't great. Too much seafood makes my knees and wrists ache," Aunt May said. Her appetite was the only normal one at the table.
After a while, she set her chopsticks aside and sipped her tea, watching the two girls devour their meals. She sighed softly—youth really was a blessing.
The cheerful atmosphere at the table left Herman at a loss for words. He felt like the only sane person there. How could Aunt May not notice that the girls' appetites were anything but normal?
Especially Carrie… This had to be her twenty-second plate by now. Aunt May, did you really think "youth" explained that away?
"I'm probably the only normal one in this whole company!"
Herman shamelessly sighed to himself. The company lunch ended on a harmonious note—except for the poor restaurant owner, whose world had been shattered.
After the owner tearfully saw them off, Herman didn't follow the three women on their shopping trip. Instead, he headed back to the office to take care of serious business.
With the company's only drama about to launch, contracts with TV stations and streaming platforms had to be settled. Since none of the other three employees had the skills for it, Herman was left with no choice but to bring in a legal counsel.
...
That afternoon, a lawyer came for an interview.
In the quiet office, Herman studied the documents in his hand and the man seated across from him for a long while.
"So, you're Matt Murdock?"
Herman gave the applicant a look full of mixed emotions. The man wore a black suit, leaned on a white cane—and was blind.
"Yes, although I have a physical disability, it doesn't affect my ability to work." Matt Murdock spoke with firm confidence.
His qualifications and experience were impressive, clearly laid out in his resume.
"I don't doubt your abilities."
Herman of course wouldn't discriminate against someone with a disability. His expression, however, was complicated—not because of Matt's blindness, but because the man sitting across from him was Daredevil. Yes, Matt Murdock, the lawyer by day and "criminal" by night, the devil feared by countless thugs in Hell's Kitchen. His blindness did nothing to hinder his actions.
"May I ask why you're applying for this job?" Herman recalled that Daredevil already had a proper day job.
"The economy's in a slump, and these times aren't exactly kind to people like us who are blind," Matt answered calmly.
Behind his sunglasses, his gaze appeared steady as he faced Herman. He couldn't see, but his other senses were sharpened to an extraordinary degree.
Matt had encountered all kinds of people, yet never had anyone exuded the kind of overwhelming pressure that Herman did.
Despite Herman's casual manner and the absence of hostility in his words or actions, Matt still felt a chilling sense of dread.
From Herman radiated a danger unlike anything he had ever known.
It was like… standing before the sun itself.
What exactly was the boss of this company? Matt felt he needed to dig deeper into the truth.
"Alright, you're hired."
Herman didn't take long to decide. Matt's qualifications as a lawyer spoke for themselves—there was no need to investigate further.
An exceptionally skilled attorney, perfectly suited to Herman's needs for legal counsel.
As for the fact that Matt Murdock wasn't an ordinary man, Herman didn't care in the slightest.
After all, there wasn't a single normal person in the company.
Aunt May: "???"