"Do you know what you look like right now?"
For a moment, Homelander flinched like a thief caught in the act, turning his head guiltily—only to see Locke, covered in blood, standing on the rooftop, looking at him with an expression that was almost... pity?
"Tsk, tsk. You look like an elementary school kid throwing a tantrum when he can't get his way."
As he spoke, Locke smacked his lips, and seeing Homelander's guilty expression, he nodded even more convincingly.
"Exactly the same."
That pathetic look in his eyes—the way he was being completely dismissed—the mocking words—all of it frayed Homelander's nerves.
This bastard was... provoking him!
But after the boost Stan had given him, the weak, cowardly "me" that had once lived in Homelander's heart was dead!
Now, he was the embodiment of perfection! The god of this world! The savior who would redeem humanity!
No one—no one—was allowed to mock him! Not Stan, not Soldier Boy, not Butcher, not anyone!
No one!
In the next instant, Homelander's eyes blazed with blinding white light. Two abnormally concentrated heat beams intertwined into a net, wrapped in a wave of scorching heat, incinerating everything in their path as they shot toward Locke! The air was instantly scorched and warped; the walls and steel reinforcements along the way melted on contact, hissing and sparking.
The anticipated image of flesh and blood being torn apart never came. Instead, an ink-black liquid suddenly engulfed Locke's body at lightning speed. These liquids rapidly intertwined and condensed, forming a pair of armor pieces gleaming with cold light. The surface of the armor still flowed faintly, as if alive.
His feet were rooted to the ground. He was slowly pushed back by the force of the beams, the slabs beneath his feet gouged into two deep trenches, gravel clattering down.
After a long moment, he suddenly dropped his waist and sank into a horse stance. The black armor tightened sharply, and he forcefully withstood this devastating attack. The heat beams fell on the armor, creating only black ripples, unable to advance another inch.
In this deadlock, behind Homelander, Soldier Boy—who had been unconscious—suddenly twitched his fingers.
He slowly opened his heavy eyelids, his blurred vision instantly sharpening as he took in the scene before him. Fury flashed in his eyes. He struggled to lift his body, grabbed a nearby broken shield—already cracked and warped—and, using the momentum of rising, hurled it at the back of Homelander's head!
"Bam——!"
With a dull, thunderous crash, Homelander's head snapped to the side. The heat beams in his eyes instantly went out of control! Two fiery rays of light, like unguided blades, carved directly into the load-bearing structure of Vought Tower.
A chilling crack echoed through the air—a section of reinforced concrete instantly turned charred black, and an entire floor of the building was sheared away from the main structure like butter sliced by a hot knife!
The broken floor, wrapped in smoke, concrete fragments, sharp glass shards, and twisted steel bars, slowly slid downward with a piercing screech. To avoid the uncontrolled heat rays, Soldier Boy awkwardly rolled to the side, falling with the collapsing debris.
A massive shadow, like the giant hand of some colossal beast, rapidly enveloped the entire block. Most of the sky was blotted out. The air was filled with the sharp smell of burning, suffocating dust, and a faint tinge of blood.
The reporters below were already terrified, screaming and fleeing, not even bothering to pick up their cameras and phones as they dropped to the ground.
The roar of collapsing floors and buildings below came and went. The sound of crumbling walls and shattering glass intertwined into an apocalyptic cacophony. Debris and wreckage fell from the great height, crashing thunderously to the ground, kicking up dust across the sky as if the whole world was falling apart.
Hughie's figure was still frantically teleporting between floors of Vought Tower, anxiously searching for Locke.
But when his form stabilized on the ninety-fourth floor, the thick smell of blood suddenly invaded his nostrils—a fishy sweetness wrapped in a rotting breath—making him instantly hold his breath.
Looking up, the scene before him made his blood almost freeze in his veins. Stumps and severed limbs lay scattered across the ground. Pale bones pierced through blood-soaked clothing. Exposed organs had slightly curled in the sticky puddles of dark red blood.
A winding river of blood had already risen past his ankles. The sticky sensation under his feet crept up his skin, piercing to the bone.
Despite having survived so many life-and-death struggles, the primal instincts of an ordinary person still coursed through Hughie's veins, and they overwhelmed him in an instant.
He stumbled back, covering his mouth, his stomach churning. Acid surged into his throat. The next second, he couldn't hold it in anymore—he squatted down and vomited violently, like a rookie soldier on his first battlefield, so disoriented he couldn't even straighten his back.
The dizziness from vomiting hadn't subsided when a bone-rattling crack suddenly echoed from within Vought Tower. Before he could react, a deafening roar followed, and then an entire wall began to fracture wildly.
Hughie's head snapped up, his pupils contracting. He saw an entire floor of the building being cut by two searing white beams. The scorched sections still smoked as tens of thousands of tons of reinforced concrete, wrapped in glass shards and debris, slowly tilted and slid downward.
Vought... was collapsing!
He looked toward the source of the lasers and saw a strange figure in black armor at the top of the building, using fluid, airtight fist techniques to suppress Homelander, leaving him no chance to catch his breath.
Despite his contempt for Homelander, Locke still adhered to one core principle:
Despise the enemy strategically, but value them tactically.
He understood perfectly the difference between himself and Homelander in terms of raw power.
The difference was that while Homelander far surpassed Locke in raw stats and abilities—
He could fly, possessed super strength, super speed, super senses, laser vision—a complete copy of Superman. From the look of things, Homelander had clearly been enhanced.
Originally, Locke had come to see if he could clean up the aftermath. After all, he had removed the possibility of a counterattack from Butcher, Soldier Boy, Starlight, Queen Maeve, and Hughie. No matter how you looked at it, Homelander had no way out.
But now, it seemed their existence had created variables. Perhaps over the years, they had actually developed something, because Homelander's power had nearly skyrocketed.
In other words, Homelander was now so strong that Locke couldn't take him down without paying a heavy price.
And what about Locke's own strengths?
The answer was simple: Homelander's weaknesses were Locke's strengths.
Mentally fragile, narcissistic, inexperienced in combat. For him, so-called fighting was nothing more than overwhelming with numbers.
In other words, Homelander was like a fragile corn kernel—apply a little pressure, and he would explode, losing all fighting spirit and combat effectiveness.
Now, Locke needed to use continuous attacks—from body to mind—to push him to the point of—
Complete annihilation!