Above the sky.
No war mechs remained.
Herman scanned the devastated surroundings. He searched through the ruins for a long time before finally finding his Bugatti.
As expected.
The supercar, once worth tens of millions, was now nothing but a heap of twisted scrap metal, mixed with the remains of those blown apart in the chaos.
"Whiplash really got what he deserved."
This was already the second luxury car Herman had lost. He sighed helplessly.
Maybe he just wasn't meant to enjoy driving supercars, even as a billionaire. Otherwise, why did every car he drove end up totaled?
Even though the [All-Seeing Eye] had granted him the status of a [Top Tycoon], giving him mansions and luxury cars across the country—dozens parked in New York alone—Herman still felt he couldn't keep up with this rate of destruction.
"Whup-whup-whup—"
The sound of helicopter blades cut through the air above. Herman withdrew his mourning gaze from the Bugatti and looked up.
Sure enough, that reckless media helicopter had returned. Seeing the battle over, it flew directly toward the scene.
But that wasn't all.
The helicopter descended slowly, landing in a relatively clear spot. A woman with a striking figure jumped out.
She was clearly a reporter, with a cameraman close behind lugging his gear. The two rushed straight toward Herman.
Reporters truly had nerves of steel. She showed no fear at all, unfazed by the sea of corpses and blood around them, as if blind to the carnage.
Look at the pilot, by contrast—
A seasoned, retired air force veteran—even he struggled to stomach the horrific scene.
Watching the wreckage scattered across the ground, recalling the sky-darkening mechs from moments earlier, the pilot felt nothing but dread inside the cockpit.
"Is this… really something a human can do?"
The pilot remained stunned. He had seen the overwhelming mech army reduced to ash with his own eyes.
That supposedly unstoppable force… had vanished in an instant before the man now standing below.
Just moments ago—
Even from more than ten kilometers away, everyone aboard the helicopter carrying the beautiful reporter Lois had witnessed it all.
As an ordinary person, the pilot couldn't help but feel fear toward Herman. He actually admired Lois and the cameraman for stepping off so casually.
They weren't the least bit afraid. If anything, they seemed excited.
"Homelander! Can we interview you, Homelander!"
Lois rushed up with her microphone, her face glowing with excitement as she looked at Herman in his black battle suit. She looked like a starstruck fan.
This suit—
It looked far better than the one "Homelander" wore in the TV series. Standing this close, Lois felt overwhelmed by his presence, an aura of raw masculine power.
She couldn't deny it… her body was already betraying her, her heart in a restless stir as she gazed at Herman just inches away.
"I'm not…!"
Herman frowned instinctively.
And at that moment—
"Boom!"
From the villa's wreckage, a massive slab of concrete the size of a truck suddenly broke loose, plummeting straight toward him.
"Oh my god!"
"We're dead!"
Lois and the cameraman froze in terror.
Herman reacted instantly. A blazing stream shot from his eyes, vaporizing the falling mass before it could hit.
"I'm not Homelander."
He finally finished his words.
But—
Lois and the cameraman swallowed hard, staring at the fire still burning in his eyes. His denial held no weight at all.
Don't think changing the color hides your signature move! Lois thought with a rush of disbelief.
"Homelander, your laser eyes are incredible."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Herman's face twisted with exasperation.
Realizing his reaction had only reinforced the comparison, he could only try to explain further.
"Honestly, I'd prefer you not confuse television with reality. I'd rather you gave me a new name."
He frowned deeply at first—he hated the name "Homelander." But then, catching sight of the live camera, inspiration struck.
He knew New York Television had solid nationwide ratings. With this live broadcast, countless people were surely watching.
So Herman decided—to use this rare opportunity to reshape his image.
"Superman sounds good. Yes, everyone can call me Superman."
He flashed a confident smile at the camera, convinced that with today's spectacle, the name Superman would spread far and wide.
But the reality was…
"Hahaha! He's panicking! He can't show it, but he's forced to smile for the camera!"
"Guys, this feels so familiar!"
"Homelander's too honest. He even exposed his own weakness in his autobiography. He's terrified of internet backlash!"
"Just a minute ago I was awed by Homelander's power, but now I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts. Imagine being so desperate for approval you're afraid of online trolling!"
...
A large crowd watched live as Herman first furrowed his brow, then forced a smile while vehemently denying he was Homelander.
This only convinced them further that The Boys was a documentary. The fear and unease they had previously felt toward Herman's overwhelming power seemed to fade away.
Perhaps the public believed they had discovered Herman's weakness? They didn't need to fear him turning into a villain—after all, everyone now "knew" he was afraid of online bullying.
Jokes flooded social media. The incident generated extraordinary buzz, and New York TV's broadcast reached far beyond just New Yorkers.
In no time at all, the hype surrounding Herman and this livestream soared. Memes based on his interview began circulating everywhere. As for the "Superman" name Herman suggested, most viewers thought it lacked the same familiarity as "Homelander."
Hardly anyone took his "emphasis" seriously.
...
Beside the camera, Lois didn't react like the livestream audience. As a devoted fangirl of Herman, she instinctively nodded along.
"Superman? That really is a great name."
Her expression was almost feverish as she launched into a flurry of questions.
"Homelander! Can you tell everyone what caused today's incident?"
"Were those mechs invasion weapons from Russia?"
"Did you arrive so quickly to handle the crisis because you've already partnered with the government to become our guardian?"
The thing about fangirls—
They'll blindly support whatever their idol says, but that doesn't mean they'll change their habits. Lois was no different.
She called him "Homelander" left and right, leaving Herman speechless, though he still had to keep smiling for the cameras.
"I like being called Superman."
He emphasized it again, comforting himself with the thought that this reporter was just an exception. It didn't mean everyone would ignore his words.
And besides—
How could a woman whose mind was filled with fantasies of sleeping with him and being held in his arms possibly pay attention to anything else?
By accident, Herman glimpsed Lois's surface thoughts. He instantly pulled back from the mind-invading peep, startled.
Damn it.
She actually wanted to play those kinds of unhealthy games?
Whips, candles… wait—was that a drill?
She looked so refined, so well-mannered. And yet this was her taste?
"For these questions, I think you should ask Stark. He definitely knows more than I do."
"Oh, and I don't want anyone bothering me. Take this as a warning."
Herman had no intention of sitting around as the obedient interviewee in front of the cameras.
Of course, it also became harder for him to look straight at the seemingly dignified reporter.
With that, he wrapped himself in Telekinesis and shot into the sky, leaving Lois and the cameraman staring up in awe.
"He's so bossy," the cameraman muttered, unable to resist complaining about Herman's bluntness. He only dared say it once Herman was far out of sight.
"But you have to admit, he's incredibly charismatic, isn't he? And compared to those so-called heroes who can't stop preaching about morality..."
"I'm sure the public will definitely prefer a Homelander who's straightforward."
Lois's loyalties had already tilted completely toward Herman. She made no effort to hide her support. In fact, if the interviewee had been anyone else, she would've been even harsher than the cameraman.
It could only be said—
For most women, looks were justice. And Herman wasn't just handsome, he was as powerful as a figure from myth.
At this moment, Lois felt her admiration for him deepen even further.
Feeling the soaked fabric of her panties beneath her jeans, she knew she was destined to have a very different kind of dream tonight.
...
Herman didn't fly straight back to Stellar Tower.
Nor did he use the Raven's teleportation.
He took to the skies.
It wasn't just to avoid more interviews—he had another goal. His deal with Tony Stark still wasn't complete.
Because of Whiplash's sudden appearance, the gala had turned into a massacre. Most importantly, Herman hadn't managed to tell Tony Stark the truth about Howard and Maria's deaths, nor had he obtained JARVIS's source code.
"Where are you going?"
In the sky, Herman caught sight of Tony Stark moving at what felt like "turtle speed." Sure, Iron Man could match an ordinary jet, but to Herman, it was laughably slow.
"To deal with the intruders... I was hoping you'd help. After all, I'm technically one of your investments, right?"
Tony's tone was grave. After escorting his loved ones away, he had already learned about the situation from Jarvis.
Someone had built an Iron Legion.
Though Tony found it impossible to believe anyone besides himself could create such suits, the evidence was undeniable. With the attack reaching his own mansion, he knew he had to respond.
But the truth was—
His current tech was still limited. He was relying on a palladium reactor, and he knew he couldn't beat that kind of army.
Before heading back, Tony had already called the U.S. military.
He figured Herman, labeled by S.H.I.E.L.D. as a "God Among Men," could provide crucial support, so he tried a little manipulation to rope him in.
"Your connection that slow?"
Hovering mid-air, Herman gave him a strange look. "Didn't you know the battle's already over?"
"Over?"
Tony froze. When the realization hit, he let out a huge sigh of relief. Looked like the U.S. military was still more capable than he'd given them credit for.
Naturally, Tony assumed it was the military that had stopped the Iron Legion. He couldn't be blamed—his knowledge of Herman came only from S.H.I.E.L.D. files. Even a genius like him wouldn't imagine the U.S. forces had been crushed instantly.
...
"I think it's time we revisited our deal." Herman showed no sign of boasting, steering the subject back to business.
"Fine."
Relieved the crisis was over, Tony no longer felt the urge to rush home. He knew exactly what awaited him there: reporters swarming and agents knocking at his door.
"Follow me!"
Tony guided his armor toward Stellar Tower, and Herman followed right behind the sluggish flyer.
"Ten minutes. You really took ten minutes just to get from the suburbs into the city," Herman remarked as they landed on the tower's rooftop terrace.
"I know you can fly faster. But do you realize how much scenery you missed along the way?" Tony, of course, refused to admit his tech was lacking.
He was just being stubborn.
Inside the tower, mechanical arms moved in to help remove his armor piece by piece.
The current suits still required bulky machinery to put on and take off, far from the later models that could deploy instantly with a touch of the arc reactor.
"I think I understand better than you what it's like to look down on the earth." Herman strolled over to the liquor cabinet in Tony's office as if it were his own. After that fight, he needed something to wash the taste out of his mouth.
"Pour me one too."
Tony didn't mind. He took the glass Herman handed him and downed it in one gulp, like it was nothing more than water.
Herman had picked the most expensive bottle on the shelf.
"I don't care about my old man. But if their deaths weren't accidents, then I have to get justice for my mom."
"She was a gentle woman."
Tony still tried to act indifferent about Howard Stark. As he copied JARVIS's source code onto his office system, he looked at Herman.
"So? What's the answer?"
His voice carried a faint tremor. It was obvious his heart wasn't as steady as he tried to appear.
"Go home and look into Bucky Barnes." Herman was certain Tony would uncover the truth with just that lead. After all, with his resources, he didn't exactly need Holmes's face to solve the mystery.
In reality, Herman knew it was because Tony had more than enough channels to dig up information.
"Bucky Barnes? That name sounds familiar." Tony frowned, but couldn't place it.
"Of course it does. He's Cap's best friend. A WWII hero. You've seen him plenty of times in old propaganda with Cap." Herman filled in the blanks for him.
"So it was him? A man declared dead in WWII killed my parents?" Tony found it almost impossible to believe.
"He didn't die. He was captured and turned into an enhanced soldier. If you're willing to pay a price, I could bring him to you."
Herman arched a brow. He knew exactly where Bucky was sleeping right now.
"No."
Tony walked toward Herman, a portable hard drive in his hand.
As he passed it over, his voice was firm, his eyes unwavering.
"My enemies... I'll find them myself."