Night fell.
The United States has a tradition: the darker the color, the freer you are—whether it's skin or sky.
Mercy Hospital sounds warm, but the dealings inside are anything but.
Vought Corporation's compound v works best and most reliably on infants, so they regularly ship it to major hospitals to keep churning out Superhumans.
This supply chain has run for years without ever being exposed—until Butcher's trio showed up.
"Damn it!"
After slipping into the Pediatric ICU, Mothers Milk cursed and handed Butcher a ten-dollar bill.
The Butcher grinned as he pocketed it. "I knew it—by Vought's shameless standards there had to be mother-f***ing Superhero babies here!"
"Hey, look here!"
Frenchie hissed, pulling their attention over.
The three gathered at an incubator, eyes locking on the tiny IV bottle dripping into the infant.
Inside the vial was a half-measure of blue fluid.
"This has to be compound v!" Butcher and Frenchie said together.
Always meticulous, Mothers Milk objected, "We've never seen it. What if it isn't compound v?"
The Butcher didn't care. He found a syringe, drew the liquid, and sneered at MM: "So what do you think they're pumping into babies—blue Coke?"
Suddenly noisy voices approached outside—guards on their way.
"Didn't you kill the cameras?" Butcher pocketed the syringe and snapped at Frenchie.
Frenchie shot back, "Killing the cameras is what tipped them off—these guards are sharper than we thought."
Without a word, Mothers Milk raised his pistol and fired, dropping two guards, but more kept pouring in.
Butcher and Frenchie added their fire, still outgunned.
"Exit route?"
Butcher was frantic—he'd finally found compound v; he couldn't be boxed in now.
"F***—I never thought we wouldn't even make it past the front doors!" Frenchie spat a stream of F-words.
Then Butcher remembered the baby—its eyes had seemed to shoot blue lasers.
He scooped the infant up, aimed its face toward the doorway, and coaxed the eyes open; twin lasers blasted out, shredding two guards to pieces.
"Ah-ha-ha!"
Overjoyed, Butcher used Laser Baby to carve a path, mowing down every nearby guard.
After returning the baby, Butcher still looked hungry for more.
"Bloody brilliant."
If it weren't a human child, Butcher would've taken Laser Baby home.
BOOM!
Even as he thought it, the outer wall exploded and a Red-Caped Figure burst in.
"No way…"
The three froze—Homelander himself.
They'd been caught by Homelander again.
This time he saw their faces clearly.
"Gulp."
Frenchie trembled, whispering to Butcher, "Think Laser Baby could handle him?"
"Not a chance."
Butcher, calmer than the rest, shook his head.
"But…" He flashed Homelander a taunting grin, "our help's a hell of a lot stronger than Laser Baby."
Amused that Butcher could still laugh, Homelander sneered, "Showing backbone? Want to die standing?"
He laughed blood-thirstily. "Fine, I'll—urk!"
Before he could finish, a black blur smashed through the wall and slammed him to the floor.
Homelander struggled helplessly; even without seeing the face he knew exactly who it was.
Black King!
Homelander wanted to cry. Which kid cries every day? Which gambling addict loses every bet?
Why does Black King always show up to beat him wherever he goes?
He was living proof of the saying—gambling dogs never get a house.
"Move!"
Fang Yuan fought back a laugh and barked at the trio, "Go!"
Butcher's crew sprinted for the exit.
Butcher couldn't resist a glance back, wanting to etch the sight of a pinned Homelander into memory.
At the same moment Homelander lifted his head, unwilling to let these ants escape.
Their eyes locked.
Homelander got a good look at Butcher's face.
"He's…"
Homelander frowned—sure he'd seen this man somewhere.
Behind his mask Fang Yuan smiled; mission accomplished.
He'd arranged this encounter so Homelander and Butcher could meet—after all, they share a son.
Ahem, ambiguous wording, but factually correct.
Of course Homelander would argue a photo would've sufficed—why let Black King pummel him again?
That, too, was Fang Yuan's intent.
Each beating stokes a fire inside Homelander; the deeper he digs, the more that blaze will incinerate Fang Yuan's target.
THUD-THUD-THUD!
Footsteps echoed from the distance—hospital staff were on their way.
Black King clearly didn't want to be seen, so he released Homelander and vanished in a flicker.
Homelander gasped for breath, whether from fright or fury he couldn't tell. Unwilling to let anyone witness his disgrace, he smashed through the floor, dropped to the level below, and burst out through the outer wall, flying away.
All that remained were a few hastily arrived guards, staring dumbfounded at the gaping holes in the wall.
"Ha-ha, we actually did it!"
Once Butcher's trio reached safety, they burst into laughter.
At last they had Vought by the throat; they could land a crippling blow.
"D'you think exposing compound v could get the feds to shut Vought down?" Frenchie mused aloud.
"Vought's too big. Even if we prove Supes are man-made, the company won't just fold," Mothers Milk said, lacking confidence.
Butcher had done his homework. "Whether the feds move depends on whether Vought jabbed kids with compound v on the sly."
"If they did it secretly, it's outright crime. If the parents knew, it gets messy."
If parents were informed, Vought would face public scorn at worst, maybe a share-price nosedive—but that was miles short of the Boys' goal of crushing the corporation.
"Vought has contracts with every parent. compound v alone won't topple them."
Black King's voice cut in, and an instant later he stood before them.
All three sighed; things had just gotten trickier.
"The CIA?" Butcher asked.
He meant whether to bring the CIA into play.
Black King nodded. "Absolutely."
Butcher pondered, then offered the vial of compound v. Black King waved it off.
"Keep it. I already grabbed some from the lab." Fang Yuan's goal wasn't the drug; he had no need to compete.
Speaking as Black King, he said, "Lie low for now. I'll contact a few senators and start pushing the Superhuman Registration Act."
Butcher's trio left in high spirits; they could already picture Vought's downfall.
While the Boys returned triumphant, Homelander stormed back into Seven Tower, fury written across his face.
Fang Yuan arrived moments later. Seeing Homelander puffed up in rage, he hurried over in concern.
"John, what happened?"
Homelander exhaled, then sheepishly recounted the events.
"I thought Black King wouldn't tail them. If I'd known, I'd have brought my big brother along." He was visibly frustrated.
Fang Yuan patted his head, pulled Homelander close, and checked him over; only when he found no injuries did he relax.
Of course, it was all for show—Fang Yuan had delivered the beating himself; he knew perfectly well whether Homelander was hurt.
"As long as my John's okay. Next time, big brother will come along and beat him up." Fang Yuan brandished a fist.
Encouraged, Homelander nodded vigorously. "Great!"
After that pep talk, Homelander took a deep breath and headed for Intelligence.
Though he'd taken a beating and come away empty-handed, he hadn't gained nothing.
After mulling it over, he realized he'd met Butcher before—at a Vought cocktail party eight years earlier.
Back then Butcher had been introduced as the husband of Marketing Director Becca.
The Marketing Director seat Becca held then was the same one Ashley occupied now.
Homelander still had some recollection of Becca—he'd slept with her—though she'd resigned not long after.
Suddenly he sensed that Butcher's hatred must tie back to Becca. Something must have happened to her—something important to him.
Feeling it crucial, he pulled the files on Billy Butcher and Becca Butcher from Intelligence.
Neither being Supes, their records were mundane: Butcher drifted jobless; Becca's file simply read "resigned."
Even Homelander could see the red flag—shortly after Becca quit, Butcher also left his job and Becca vanished. Clearly a major upheaval had occurred.
With nothing in the database, Homelander sought answers from someone he trusted: Madelyn.
"Becca?"
Madelyn's heartbeat quickened, though she quickly composed herself.
"I remember—she resigned shortly after becoming Marketing Director," she said with a smile.
"Resigned?" Homelander narrowed his eyes. "Not disappeared?"
"No, I didn't really keep track of her." Madelyn's reply was light.
A trace of doubt flickered through Homelander's mind. "You wouldn't lie to me, right?"
Madelyn stepped forward and unbuttoned her blouse.
"Of course not. I'll never lie to you."
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