The Boys' Temporary Motel Base
Leon's Room
After searching him out, Maeve collapsed face-first onto the bed, utterly exhausted after the past day and night. She was still wearing a black-and-white maid outfit, too drained to even change.
Near the window, Leon—already suited up in his Soldier Boy Suit—stood polishing his shield while speaking through a Bluetooth earpiece to Arcee, who was out enjoying a high-speed ride.
"How different is it from our world?"
"About ninety percent similar," Arcee replied. "Many place names are different, but the layout is nearly identical. Stark Tower's location corresponds to Vought Tower here."
"Honestly, if you hadn't told me this was another universe, I'd assume it was just a parallel version of ours."
"I see…"
Leon narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock came at the door.
Butcher's voice sounded from outside. Ever since the traumatic visual imprint from his last entry, he had learned his lesson and kept a safe distance.
"OI, mate. Time to send the twins on their way."
"Let's go."
Leon was curious to see whether Payback had truly been nothing but trash.
This time, because of the large number of civilians potentially involved, almost the entire team mobilized.
Among them—
Frenchie was by far the most enthusiastic. He had long dreamed of witnessing Herogasm in person.
…
Outside a Sprawling Estate
"Oh, fuck."
"It really is the most depraved gathering imaginable. And they're still holding Herogasm."
Hidden in the brush, Butcher observed the estate hundreds of meters away through binoculars, unable to stop himself from commenting on the X-rated chaos unfolding inside.
After a moment, he offered the binoculars to Leon.
Leon waved them off.
"No need."
"A few hundred meters? That's basically right in front of me."
"Oh?" Butcher raised a brow. "You've got that too?"
Leon was already adjusting the contraction of his pupils and the thickness of his lenses at will, fine-tuning his focal range until his natural vision matched—and even exceeded—the binoculars' magnification.
The deeper he explored Super Self-Regeneration, the more he realized its potential far surpassed his expectations.
Literal regeneration was merely the surface.
Its real applications were far more elegant.
"I'll take them if he won't!" Frenchie snatched the binoculars and immediately began watching with rapt fascination, muttering appreciation under his breath as if he wanted to jump into the party himself.
Hughie wanted a look too—
But Starlight stood nearby, supervising him, making it awkward.
"You know," Leon said casually, "I actually founded Herogasm. First one was in 1952. I started it with another Supe—Liberty."
"She was a fiery little number. If I hadn't already been with Crimson Countess, we might've had a kid together."
"Would've been in their thirties or forties by now."
At that—
Butcher, Hughie, and Starlight exchanged looks.
Liberty was Stormfront.
After being maimed by Ryan's Heat Vision, she'd reportedly committed suicide on Homelander's birthday.
Without speaking, the team tacitly agreed not to bring it up. No need to destabilize Soldier Boy's mental state.
"Fuck," Leon muttered with a laugh.
"I may have founded it—but they've clearly surpassed the master."
"They're playing way too wild."
"Some of this is so disgusting even I feel sick."
"Shit! What the hell is that?"
"That's not manly at all."
"Heresy. Must be purged."
"Wait—!"
Before anyone could stop him—
A single, pinpoint blast of Heat Vision lanced across several hundred meters.
Clean. Precise.
Love Sausage's extended anatomy was severed instantly.
At the poolside—
"Holy shit! My baby—!"
Love Sausage screamed in agony, collapsing.
The detached appendage, no longer under its owner's control, wriggled independently—instinctively seeking the nearest available refuge.
If only it could reach—
…
"Oh my God, you shot it off!"
"I thought you said no more unprovoked harm?"
"And—shit!"
Hughie grabbed the binoculars from Frenchie, took one look at the writhing aftermath, then immediately shoved them back.
"You can keep watching. I'm good."
After settling his stomach, he looked at Leon.
"There are a lot of people in there…"
"As long as they don't interfere, they'll be fine."
"Then what about just now?"
"He disgusted me."
Leon's expression was completely earnest.
"I didn't want to do it."
Then he continued:
"I'll give you three minutes. Evacuate anyone you think is innocent—human or Supe."
"Anyone left behind after that?"
"I'll consider heretics."
"They dare offend the founder of Herogasm?"
Butcher met Hughie's eyes.
Without hesitation, he handed each non-powered member a vial of Temp V.
Hughie and Frenchie accepted without argument.
Mother's Milk did not.
"Hughie," Starlight protested, "you promised me you'd stop injecting that poison!"
She tried to snatch the vial—but Hughie moved faster and injected it.
She was left holding an empty syringe.
"Annie, this isn't the time," Hughie said as the surge of power returned to him.
"If we're going to evacuate innocent people—fast—my teleportation is essential."
"Fuck," she muttered.
"Just this once. Never again."
He had a point.
Time was short.
Soldier Boy was many things—but when it came to a deadline, he was absolute.
If he said three minutes—
It was three minutes.
Not a second more.
Not a second less.
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