"Heh…"
Jovian chuckled softly as he watched The Deep run off in a panic.
"As for the three of you who are still here—do you have anything you want to ask me?"
"Relax. I'm a very approachable person. I'm sure working together is going to be a great time."
Jovian smiled at Queen Maeve, A-Train, and Black Noir as he spoke.
"Uh…"
The three of them exchanged looks, then all shook their heads.
"Good."
"Then we're done here."
Jovian stood up from the chair, nodded to them, and walked out through the hall doors like he owned the place.
"WTF?!"
"Is he treating himself like our leader now?!"
After Jovian left, A-Train stared at the doorway and frowned.
"From the way it looks… yeah."
Queen Maeve gave a small nod, agreeing.
"Are we really supposed to just let that happen?!"
A-Train felt his status slipping. In The Seven, he was already near the bottom. If another strong, aggressive supe came in, then getting cut—just like Lamplighter—suddenly didn't feel impossible.
"A-Train, listen."
"This has never been about what we want. It's what the company wants."
"If the people upstairs want a new dominant hero, then we accept it. That's it."
Queen Maeve's expression stayed flat. She saw it clearly: whoever Vought decided would be a hero became a hero. Their opinions didn't matter at all.
"Shit!"
A-Train cursed, furious—but he knew she was right.
These heroes looked glamorous on camera, but in reality they had no power. They were just products Vought packaged and sold.
Meanwhile, Vought's PR team was working overtime…
Both Starlight—slated to replace Lamplighter—and Jovian—who'd shown "staggering value" by taking out Translucent—needed massive spending to promote and polish.
Especially Jovian.
A sudden, out-of-nowhere star who had "replaced" Translucent overnight.
So Vought prepared a two-part publicity package for him.
Part one: a "Translucent retirement interview."
Yes—Vought arranged a retirement interview for "Translucent" specifically to build hype for Jovian.
They ran it both online and in-person. The story was simple: Translucent had developed a rare condition and could no longer use his powers.
And since the real Translucent was already dead, Vought had Doppelganger step in and do the job. With Doppelganger's abilities, nobody would ever realize the real Translucent was already in hell eating shit.
Part two: a promo reel starring Jovian.
Nothing built public support faster than showing Jovian's "heroic power" directly.
So…
After leaving The Seven's hall, Jovian went straight to the set—Vought's private superhero backlot, where basically every superhero movie the public watched got filmed.
"So what do you need me to do?"
Jovian looked at the huge camera pointed at him and raised an eyebrow. It was his first time on a set—especially after gaining godlike strength. Honestly, it was kind of fun.
"Freeman—scene takes place at a bank."
"In a minute, seven or eight robbers will rush out and start a heist. You just need to drop in cleanly from above and take them down. That's it."
The director explained the most generic, cliché setup imaginable.
But it didn't matter. Cliché or not, if audiences loved it and it made money, then it was a good script.
"Drop in from above?"
Jovian nodded, understanding that the director meant: smash through the roof and descend from the sky.
"Scene one—action!"
The director gripped his gear and started rolling, capturing Jovian's "cool hero" vibe.
"Hey! Hands up!"
"Or we'll cut your head off and kick it around like a soccer ball!"
Suddenly, the bank doors burst open and seven or eight armed "robbers" ran out, yelling at the bank employees.
"…"
Jovian looked at them—at the way one of them was even holding his gun backward—and covered his face.
These weren't robbers. They were amateur comedians in costumes.
"Hold up!"
Jovian waved at the director, signaling a pause.
"Cut! Everyone hold! Freeman has something to say…"
The director had no idea what Jovian was about to do, but he called a stop anyway.
"You guys—come here."
With filming paused, Jovian motioned for the extras playing robbers to come over.
"Uh…"
They didn't know what he wanted, but they obediently walked up.
"Go look in a mirror."
"Do you think you look like robbers?"
"How is anyone supposed to feel scared of you?"
"We need fear. Stand up straight. Take it seriously."
Jovian lectured them with complete sincerity.
"Uh…"
The extras looked at each other, confused as hell.
"Any questions?"
Jovian asked, seeing them just standing there.
"Freeman… what are robbers supposed to look like?"
One of the extras—a big guy with short brown hair—asked in genuine confusion.
"What the fuck?!"
"You live in the United States and you've never seen a robber? Come on."
Jovian stared at him like he'd just heard the dumbest thing on Earth.
In a country where it felt like a bank got hit every day, someone was telling him they'd never seen what a robber looked like?
That was more ridiculous than a cheap Instagram filter.
And in the U.S., robbing and looting didn't even get called "robbery" half the time—people dressed it up as a "five-finger discount" or a "smash-and-grab." It was practically a national headline.
How could you not know the culture?
"Ah—sorry. I just moved here from a tiny town in Idaho."
The man explained quickly.
"Fuck. That explains it."
Jovian nodded. Now it made sense why this guy didn't understand the local "traditions."
"Alright. Watch closely."
"This is what a real robber looks like."
As he spoke, Jovian snatched the submachine gun from the guy's hands.
Click.
Without hesitation, Jovian flipped the safety, racked it like he'd done it a thousand times, and aimed up at the ceiling.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!"
A burst of gunfire thundered out.
After that, Jovian still wasn't satisfied. He aimed the gun at the glass in front of the teller counters.
"Fuck!"
The tellers—clearly local actors who knew the drill—hit the floor instantly the moment they saw what he was doing.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!"
"Crack—smash—pop!"
Jovian squeezed the trigger and shredded the glass, blowing the transparent panels into fragments.
"Holy shit…"
The "robber" extras all dropped to the floor too, panicked, clutching their heads.
Silence.
For a moment, the entire set went dead quiet.
"Heh…"
Jovian looked around at everyone's frozen faces and smiled in satisfaction.
"Listen up, you little bitches!"
"Open the vaults, and I want the cash packed into the black bag next to me—nice and neat."
"And if anyone tries to call the cops…"
"I swear my bullets will arrive faster than they do."
In the smoke curling off the barrel, Jovian roared at the entire crew.
"Now do you get it?!"
After yelling, Jovian looked at the crew members collapsed all over the floor, then tossed the gun back to the "robber" extra who was still crouched with his hands over his head.
"Y-yeah… yeah… I—"
The extra stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.
"Um…"
"Freeman… could you please tone it down a little…"
"But I have to say—your acting just now was incredible!"
The director—who had been so frightened he'd fallen to the ground—held a small microphone and spoke to Jovian in the gentlest, most careful voice possible.
Honestly, the director had been scared out of his mind.
Watching Jovian grin while firing, he'd genuinely thought a real robbery was happening.