The Boys: Viltrumite Bloodline Panel

Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.

~ Napoleon Bonaparte

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Vought Tower. Edgar’s office.

On the dark walnut desk sat only a laptop and that day’s Wall Street Journal.

The front-page headline read: "The Guardian’s So-Called Declaration of Justice: Is It the Return of the Spirit of America, or the Overture to Supe Hegemony?"

Edgar sat behind the desk, watching Hillel prop his size 42 feet right up in front of him.

He stayed quiet for a long time before speaking first.

"I have always believed that there were only two normal people in this building: me and you. But this time, you’ve suddenly dropped a huge problem on me."

Hillel leaned back, looking pretty comfortable.

"Edgar, your blood is as thick as oatmeal. Your private doctor should be dragged outside and shot in the head!"

His super vision and super hearing could both pick up Edgar’s physical condition.

"Easy to develop these issues as you get older. High cholesterol, high blood sugar, high blood pressure, high uric acid. The four highs. You don’t need to worry about that. Do you know what the most expensive thing in this country is?"

Edgar crossed his hands, trying to have an actual conversation with the man across from him. If it were Homelander, he wouldn’t have said a single word.

"Uh, the president’s virginity?" Hillel threw out a random guess.

"The president’s virginity is cheaper than my insoles. I’m talking about the truth!"

Edgar stood up and walked over to the window.

"In the past twenty-four hours, Vought’s stock price has gone up 4.2%. Your personal brand valuation jumped from 1.2 billion to 1.9 billion dollars, and the online discussion about you is three times what Homelander is getting."

"But at the same time..."

Edgar pulled out his phone and opened a document that had just been sent over.

"The ACLU, that left-leaning civil rights group, is getting ready to sue Vought. They’re accusing us of letting our supes make inflammatory statements."

"Three Democratic senators have joined forces to demand a congressional hearing to drag you in, and a New York Times editorial already used the phrase ’Supe Fascism’."

Edgar slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned around with a serious look. "You’ve created a problem for me. A very expensive one."

Hillel spread his hands. "It’s clear that people with a certain agenda and motives are targeting me, but oh well. What’s the bad news?"

Edgar, who had been thinking hard, got thrown off by that.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused Vought?"

Edgar was about to lump The Guardian in with Homelander.

"Fine. Let me show you something good too."

Hillel opened the data sheet Ashley had sent him earlier. "According to the latest numbers, my approval rating has climbed 12.3% so far, with strong growth among young men and middle-aged to elderly white folks."

"You already know the spending power and political clout those two groups have. No need for me to spell it out, especially since you’re a person of color."

"The Illumi—ehm.. The I Association has serious pull too. The fact they even offered me an ad deal shows capital doesn’t give a shit about any fascism nonsense!"

Hillel let out a disdainful snort. "America is a free market where profit comes first. As long as the people back me, Vought stays solid!"

Edgar narrowed his eyes. He had to admit, what The Guardian just said hit home. Profit comes first. That was the truth.

"Besides, you’re actually pretty happy about this, aren’t you?" Hillel could read Edgar’s mood from his heartbeat and blood flow.

Edgar didn’t deny it. "The military-industrial complex has been giving mixed signals. The PR director from Lockheed Martin called me personally last night."

Who and what the hell was Lockheed Martin? Hillel didn’t really care, but anything tied to the military-industrial complex had to be serious players.

"And then? That’s it?"

"They think the plan Vought floated earlier, about getting supes involved in defense projects, actually has some real potential. Their tone was that they’re open to talking about it seriously."

Hillel thought it over for a second and got the general idea.

"That is to say, you’ve always wanted to shove Supes into the military, and now it’s highly likely to pass, right?"

Edgar tapped the table, his mood clearly quite pleasant, though he wouldn’t show it too obviously. "Yes."

Edgar had to admit that while The Guardian’s radical remarks brought huge controversy to Vought, they also earned them bargaining chips.

Vought had spent a long time trying to get Supes into the American defense system, but the military was very resistant to it.

But now, The Guardian had won the fanatical support of the veteran community. Don’t look at how miserable this group usually is online; in reality, this is the base that the military’s top brass values the most.

When he went out this morning, he passed a certain avenue where some veterans were marching in the streets, chanting the slogan: "Let The Guardian defend America."

The generals at the Pentagon had to reconsider this.

"So, you called me here, surely not just to praise me twice. Give me some benefits at least!" Hillel floated over to Edgar’s seat and sat down.

"Of course." Edgar had no objection to where Hillel sat, as long as he didn’t stand on his head.

"I want you to attend a veteran appreciation event, shake hands with the veterans, take photos, and say a few nice things. Make those who support you even more fanatical, even more teary-eyed, to the point where they can’t wait to kneel and kiss your toes."

"Then, you must accept the I Association’s speech. Change the content; don’t talk about justice. Talk about the spirit of America, talk about how you defend America’s traditional values... Also, you are not allowed to wear a mustache and raise your arm at a 45° angle on stage!"

Hillel’s eyes lit up. That reminds me!

"And..."

"That’s enough."

Hillel interrupted Edgar. If he let him keep talking like this, he would really become an errand boy.

"I agree to the two conditions above, but you also have to give me full authority."

"For what?"

"Vought needs to cooperate with my next step of promotion. The Seven must all stand with me, including Homelander. Lamplighter isn’t dead yet, right? Tell him to stop cosplaying as a security guard in the mental hospital... The Seven is already a complete mess, and he’s still there being depressed."

A flash of surprise suddenly appeared on Edgar’s eternally stoic, zombie-like face.

"What are you going to do now?"

"You don’t need to worry about that. After it’s done, you can pick any congressional seat you want."

"You must not mess around!" For the first time, Edgar felt a bit flustered.

"The Guardian, I don’t like surprises. You are not a god who can do whatever you want!"

Hillel placed his hand on his crotch. "After I finish this, I will be a god!"

...

[Edgar — Mood Change: Unease, Vigilance, Anticipation, Weighing Interests]

[Ability Points Gained: +14,890]

Oh ho, the Chicken Man can get flustered too!

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