The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

You don’t fear death. You fear your idea of it.

~ Epictetus

___

"I’ve heard your story. You’ve been whoring around in Trenton for so long, and along the way, you abused quite a few people of color?"

"Are you a racist?"

The smile on Blue Hawk’s face tightened slightly. These were all things he had done in secret; even the locals didn’t have the evidence to prosecute him.

"No."

"Those people were all criminals. I was just doing what I was supposed to do."

Hillel nodded.

"Oh, is that so... Very well!"

He stood up and slowly raised his hand.

"Then I’ll do some things I’m supposed to do as well."

Blue Hawk hadn’t yet reacted to what those words meant.

Swish!

Hillel’s speed was almost invisible to the naked eye, and his hand-blade effortlessly sliced across Blue Hawk’s neck.

Blue Hawk’s head went flying, rolling with a thud into the corner of the wall.

The headless corpse stood stiffly for two seconds before crashing to the ground.

Ashley covered her mouth, her pupils violently trembling.

Hillel flicked his hand, as if he had merely swatted away a fly.

"Take out his heart and transplant it into A-Train."

"If anyone notices, just do a little public relations work externally, saying that Blue Hawk heroically sacrificed himself in a rescue operation."

...

The surgery went smoothly.

Blue Hawk’s robust heart unexpectedly matched A-Train’s body.

A few hours later, A-Train slowly woke up.

He touched his own chest. He had transplanted the heart of a racist? Aside from feeling weak, A-Train felt that the agony that had previously tormented him seemed to have eased a lot.

Ashley, who was guarding nearby, brought out the rhetoric she had prepared long ago.

"You shouldn’t carry any psychological burden."

"Blue Hawk abused people of color for a long time and committed countless evils; The Guardian personally judged him."

"This is the reward you deserve. Continue to serve The Guardian."

A-Train’s mood was very complicated.

Hillel had judged Blue Hawk without the slightest hesitation.

Killing the other party was no different from crushing an ant.

This was the most powerful Supe in the World!

Right at that moment, Hillel pushed the door open and walked in.

"Awake?"

He walked casually to the bedside, and with just a flick of his fingers, a gentle wave of power instantly surged into A-Train’s body.

Super-speed Healing.

A-Train only felt a warmth all over his body, and the fatigue, weakness, and surgical wounds from the past few days vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.

He abruptly flipped out of bed and stretched his muscles.

No, no!

Recovery alone wasn’t all; he felt like he had returned to his peak period.

Some hidden injuries from years of physical training were also mostly healed, just like returning to his youth.

Even... stronger than his peak period!

"This... This is..." A-Train widened his eyes, looking at Hillel in disbelief.

"Guardian, you... you can actually heal people as well?!"

...

[A-Train — Emotional changes: surviving a catastrophe, shock, awe, sense of belonging and loyalty]

[Obtained Ability Points: +11,200]

...

Hillel patted his shoulder.

"Small matter."

"Alright, since you’re mostly recovered, work overtime for me and go call Black Noir over. I have something to discuss with him."

A-Train was still in shock, but he didn’t dare to delay, rushing out like a gust of wind.

...

Vought Tower office.

Black Noir was brought over by A-Train.

Hillel was already sitting with his legs crossed, waiting here.

"That matter with The Deep last month was handled well. As expected of a hitman who worked at RT-Mart for decades, it was neat and clean!"

Black Noir silently nodded, quietly waiting for what came next.

The Guardian’s speech system was a bit erratic.

He was an old-timer and couldn’t quite understand young people.

"Soldier Boy... is still alive, right?"

Black Noir’s motionless figure suddenly stiffened!

He wore a mask, so his expression couldn’t be seen, but his instantly tensed muscles had already explained everything.

Black Noir still couldn’t forget the old Captain.

"Don’t be nervous."

Hillel smiled. "I heard your heartbeat. You’re a Supe of The Seven after all, yet you’re scared of a dead man to this pathetic extent. It seems you’re truly scared to your core."

Black Noir slowly lowered his head.

His gaze fell on the empty tabletop, where a few miniature cartoon characters jumped out. Whenever Black Noir felt extremely distressed, these fellows would pop out.

"Stop chatting with those cartoon characters of yours."

Hillel interrupted him, his tone calm yet hitting the nail on the head.

"There’s something wrong with your brain."

"Back then, Soldier Boy used his shield to knock a chunk of your brain out."

"You have schizophrenia, old soldier."

Black Noir trembled almost visibly to the naked eye.

That was the most unforgettable scene of his life.

He used to be a member who exacted an eye for an eye, and he could speak, communicating like a normal person.

Until that bully punched his brain into what it looked like now, blow by blow.

"Soldier Boy is coming back. I have my own intelligence channels, so don’t doubt that I would lie to you. And I am more than happy to provide you with asylum!"

Hillel floated up, as divine as a god.

He said condescendingly, "As long as you swear allegiance to me... Not only can I block Soldier Boy and keep him from touching a single hair on your head, but I can also cure your brain!"

"Even... let you speak again!"

Black Noir slowly raised his head.

The cartoon character on the table was named Zhazha.

Cure his brain?

Let him speak?

Even Vought’s top medical team was helpless against his brain; The Guardian has a way?

What a joke!

Hillel saw through his suspicion and couldn’t be bothered to waste words.

He just gently moved his fingers.

The next second.

An unfathomable power precisely surged into Black Noir’s cranial cavity.

Super-speed Healing!

At the gap in Black Noir’s brain that had been damaged for decades, it began to regrow, repair, and stitch together at an incredible speed...

"Mm—!"

Black Noir abruptly covered his head, let out a muffled groan, and dropped to one knee.

The feeling of brain tissue regenerating crazily was not pleasant.

Although the brain didn’t feel pain, once threatened, it would simulate pain signals to remind the host’s body.

Black Noir only felt as if countless ants were gnawing inside his skull; this was the throbbing pain of reshaping.

As the throbbing pain struck, he was surprised to find that the cartoon characters on the table were saying goodbye to him one by one.

The noisy sounds that used to plague his brain were also fading away bit by bit.

Not long after.

The severe pain... stopped.

Black Noir slowly stood up from the ground.

He raised his hand, staring blankly as he touched his face covered by the mask.

His face was also healed.

Decades!

For the first time, his brain was so quiet.

...

[Black Noir — Emotional changes: severe pain, disbelief, shivering, shock of a miracle descending, palpitation]

[Obtained Ability Points: +12,800]

...

Hillel crossed his arms, looking at him with a half-smile.

"How does it feel?"

Black Noir’s throat rolled violently.

That throat which could only emit breathy sounds for decades was now making sounds with difficulty; he needed to relearn syllables to assist with pronunciation.

But this was the loss of the language system from not speaking for a long time.

Rather than complete loss of voice.

Finally.

Amidst dead silence.

Black Noir uttered his newly reborn first word in a dry voice.

"Tha... Thank you!"

____

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