With Vought throwing its full support behind him, Jovian's approval rating kept climbing.
"Jovian, Compound V from Vought can give people tremendous power," Stillwell said softly, facing him.
"But Compound V is mostly used on children. Using it on adults comes with big problems. First, we can't guarantee adults will actually gain powers from it. Second, we still don't know what side effects adults might have after getting powers through Compound V. If we want to use it on adults, we'd need to improve the product. But improving Compound V would cost a fortune—and it might not even work."
"No need to improve anything. If someone uses our Compound V and doesn't get powers, then we blame it all on God, that old man," Jovian said calmly, hands behind his back.
"Good idea."
Stillwell froze for a beat, then nodded. If anything goes wrong, blame God—fuck, that really was a great idea.
"Alright. Anything else?" Jovian asked, still ridiculously composed.
After all, this wasn't the DC universe. There wasn't going to be some all-knowing, all-powerful God coming down to personally punish him. And even if there was, Jovian figured that old man would approve once he saw this was all for the sake of evolution.
"There's also the issue with The Seven," Stillwell said, flipping open her folder and reading. "Homelander is dead. The Deep went down to Florida to 'rescue dolphins' and he won't be back anytime soon. As for A-Train—we followed your instructions and exposed everything he did. The judge convicted him of involuntary manslaughter, sentenced him to five years, and sent him to a supermax black-site."
"Right now, The Seven is basically being held together by just Queen Maeve and Starlight. It's… not a good look."
"Where's Black Noir?" Jovian blinked. Homelander was dead, The Deep was gone, A-Train was in prison—so shouldn't there still be Queen Maeve, Starlight, and Black Noir?
"Black Noir…" Stillwell's brows knit with tired frustration.
"This morning he went to the grocery store to buy milk, and he accidentally picked up almond milk instead."
"He's in the ICU right now. The good news is he's no longer in immediate danger."
"Fuck…" Jovian had no words. Black Noir really was an idiot.
"So, to fill the empty spots, the company recruited two brand-new heroes," Stillwell continued, turning a page. "Stormfront and Shockwave. They'll replace Homelander and A-Train."
"Fine. Tell them to meet me in The Seven conference room," Jovian said with a small nod.
He was mildly interested in Vought's new picks—Stormfront, or rather "Liberty." Fuck, the name practically matched his. And she was a nasty bitch on top of that. Most importantly, she supposedly had a version of Compound V that adults could handle. Jovian hoped Stormfront wouldn't be stupid.
"Understood," Stillwell said, not thinking much of it.
Half an hour later, someone knocked on the door to The Seven's conference room.
"Come in," Jovian said, still with his hands behind his back, not even turning around.
"Hey, Freeman."
The door swung open hard.
Stormfront and Shockwave—the guy who was always competing with A-Train for the title of fastest man alive—walked into the room together.
"Welcome, Stormfront. Shockwave." Jovian finally turned, giving them a bright, sunny smile.
"Man, I watched the livestream of you fighting Homelander," Shockwave said immediately, laying it on thick. "You were insane. I swear you're the strongest supe in the world—no question!"
"Heh. I'm alright," Jovian chuckled. "It's not that I'm strong. It's that Homelander was weak."
"Uh…"
Shockwave's face stiffened. Homelander was already the kind of monster that made people feel hopeless. And yet Freeman was calling him weak. Then what did that make everyone else?
"He really was weak," Stormfront purred, stepping forward with a catwalk strut. "Mind and body—both pathetic compared to you."
She licked the corner of her mouth and pressed up close, hands shamelessly sliding over Jovian's chest, feeling his thick pecs like she owned them.
"Shockwave, can you step out for a minute?" Stormfront turned and glanced back at him, the look in her eyes spelling out exactly what she wanted.
"I just—"
"Yeah. Sure. No problem," Shockwave said, irritated. He'd barely walked in and they were already kicking him out. Fucking office bullshit. Eat shit.
Jovian watched in silence until Shockwave left and the door shut behind him.
"Now it's just you and me," Stormfront murmured, palm still roaming over his chest. She smiled in that warm, suggestive way. "The kind of negotiation where it's only you and me."
"How do you want to 'negotiate'?" Jovian asked, his eyes ice-cold.
"I know what you need," Stormfront said sweetly. "Compound V that works on adults. I have it. All of it. But if you want it, you'll have to meet a few conditions."
"Conditions?" Jovian smiled—but the veins at his forehead tightened, pulsing.
"There's no such thing as a free lunch," Stormfront said.
"Relax. I only want you to share a tiny bit of your power with me. That's all. And you can have everything I have—"
Her smile deepened.
"—including my body."
Stormfront still had no idea what she'd just stepped into. She looked smug, like she was already celebrating her victory.
Like she was saying: Look. Even the strongest man in the world will still get tamed by me.
"And if I don't want to share anything with you?" Jovian asked, forcing his tone steady.
"Then you get nothing," Stormfront said lightly.
"Not me. Not the perfect Compound V. None of it."
She tilted her head, completely confident—her charm, her leverage, the adult-ready Compound V… she believed Freeman couldn't possibly refuse.
"So I should take this as a threat?" Jovian asked, smiling wider.
"You can call it a threat," Stormfront said, returning the smile. "But I prefer 'terms of cooperation.' These are necessary conditions for a win-win outcome—"
"Good," Jovian said.
He lifted his hand.
And chopped.
In the next second, a head went flying up into the air like a kicked watermelon.
Midair, Stormfront stared in stunned confusion at her own headless body below, the same baffled look you'd see on someone who thought death simply didn't apply to them.
Am I… dead?
Maybe people like her—people who heal fast, who regenerate, who keep cheating the reaper—never truly believe the day will come.
They convince themselves they've defeated death.
But the truth is, death just got busy and forgot them for a while.
And when death finally remembers…
They die all the same.
"Why is it that people never understand," Jovian said quietly, wiping the blood off his glove with a paper towel, "that I don't like being threatened?"
"And you wanted to 'cooperate' with me?" He laughed under his breath. "Who the hell gave you the confidence to act like you're qualified to negotiate with me?"
He looked down at the blood soaking into the napkin, sounding more annoyed than anything else.
"Take a good look at yourself. Do you honestly think you deserve it?"