The race was set for MetLife Stadium in New York. Over a hundred thousand fans would pack the stands. Ivan had spent the whole day handling security details, sweating through crowds and logistics until evening. Only after his shift ended did he finally meet A-Train.
A-Train showed up looking twitchy as hell.
"This steak's excellent. You should try it," Ivan said, slicing his own into perfect little pieces and chewing slowly. "You look nervous. Scared Vought's gonna catch you juicing with Compound V before tomorrow's race?"
"Come on, man. I need this win bad. If I lose, Homelander will boot my ass out of the Seven for sure."
A-Train kept his voice low, practically begging across the table.
Ivan wiped his mouth with a wet napkin, eyes cold as a blade. "You getting kicked out of the Seven has fuck-all to do with me. I never saw a single cent of that fat percentage bonus you pull every year."
"Five million dollars," A-Train blurted, face twisting like it hurt. "I'll give you five million if you keep your mouth shut."
Ivan finished his last bite of steak before answering. "Sorry. I'm pretty happy with my Vought salary right now."
A-Train looked like he was about two seconds from losing his shit.
"What the fuck do you want then? You want me to make you CEO of Vought? News flash, I can't! Just name the price, man. How much to make this go away?"
"Five million dollars," Ivan said calmly, "plus the hookup for your girlfriend's Compound V source."
"No fucking way," A-Train snapped instantly. "I'll pay the money, but I don't know the channel and there's no chance in hell Pop Claw tells me."
Ivan crushed the glass in his hand with a sharp crack. He picked up one jagged shard, ground it into fine powder between his fingers, then dropped the dust into A-Train's drink. He slid the glass back across the table.
"Drink."
"Remember, I'm not asking. I don't give a fuck how you do it. Threaten her, bribe her, whatever. I want what I want. If I don't have it in three hours, you're finished."
Ivan's voice stayed calm and flat.
He looked at A-Train's humiliated, red face and smirked. "Don't even think about killing me to shut me up. That'd be pathetic. If I wanted, I could turn you into something worse than that broken glass in one fucking second."
Ivan knew exactly how to handle bullies like this. Show them you're harder than they are and they fold. Try being nice and they'll just treat you like a bitch.
"Say yes and you stay the King of Speed. Keep the glory, the money, the fame. Say no and you become another washed-up loser Vought throws in the trash. You're a smart guy. You know the right choice."
Ivan's words hit like the devil whispering in his ear.
"You want to be the fastest man alive… or a nobody."
"I.." After a long, painful pause, A-Train snatched the glass and downed the whole thing in one gulp, glass dust and all.
"Can't wait for your good news," Ivan said with a pleasant smile as A-Train stormed out.
...
One hour later, Ivan's phone buzzed twice. One text from the bank, one from A-Train.
He checked the balance and let out a soft laugh. "Six point six six million. Cute. First time someone's tried to insult me by calling me Satan with money. Creative. Keep it up."
Then he opened A-Train's message. Just one line.
—Mercy Hospital, Midtown. Ask for Head Nurse Hattie Geary.—
Mercy Hospital… Of course. If Ivan remembered right, this tied back to Ezekiel. The rubber-bodied bisexual supe he'd seen at the club. Vought's official charity ambassador.
The guy who shipped Compound V to hospitals all over the world that played ball with Vought. That's where A-Train's girlfriend had been getting her doses. Straight from the hospital supply.
Then again, he was wrong. Most supes already knew hospitals moved Compound V on the side. But the doses A-Train's girlfriend got? Those came straight from Homelander himself.
Ivan first stopped at a dealership and bought a black SUV, then drove straight to Mercy Hospital. A few crisp hundred-dollar bills got him a private chat with Head Nurse Hattie Geary.
"This is a one-million-dollar check. You know what I want."
"Sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about." Hattie turned to leave. She didn't like doing business with strangers. Too risky.
"Pop Claw mentioned you."
Hattie stopped, frowning. "Two million. Take it or leave it."
"No problem." Ivan didn't even blink. He pulled out his checkbook, wrote one for two million, and handed it over.
"Wait five minutes." Hattie took the check and disappeared back into the hospital.
When she returned, she carried a black-wrapped box.
"This is contraband. If anything goes wrong, the hospital knows nothing."
"I understand the rules."
Back in his new SUV with his real face on, Ivan opened the box.
Ten perfect vials of Compound V lined up neatly inside. Two hundred grand each. Ten times cheaper than Vought's official government price.
Of course, production cost was probably next to nothing. That's why Vought could afford to hand out so much every year for their shady "research."
"Hope this shit works. The carbon fusion rate has been painfully slow."
Ivan pulled up his internal panel. [Fusion progress: 13%.]
He took out one vial, snapped the top off with his fingertip, and poured the glowing blue liquid into his left palm.
A clean slit opened in the center of his right palm like a zipper. He pressed the liquid in.
The slit swallowed the drops, then sealed shut again without a trace.
At first, Ivan felt faint little pinpricks spreading through his body.
Nothing too bad.
Maybe the dose was too weak?
He morphed his right index finger into a thin tendril. The tendril slithered into the open vial like a snake and started sucking the blue liquid nice and slow, careful not to overload anything.
As more Compound V flooded in, Ivan closed his eyes.
He could feel his cells waking up, turning greedy and hyperactive. They drank the stuff down and kept restructuring themselves, getting more complex by the second.
When he finally opened his eyes, the first vial was bone dry.
Probably because he already carried Translucent's powers. No brand-new ability this time.
Didn't matter. Ivan checked the panel floating in front of him and let a sharp smile creep across his face.
[Carbon Super Talent Fusion in progress. Current progress: 33%]
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[]~(￣▽￣)~*
Read 12 Advance Chapters—P@t- Captain69