Hearing her daughter say that, Neuman’s brain short-circuited.

A chill shot straight to the top of her skull, and cold sweat instantly broke out across her skin.

Neuman didn’t know any so-called "handsome older guy."

And there was no one who could stroll into her home with a pile of fast food and sit down like he owned the place without setting off the security system.

Who the hell was this stranger? What did he want? Money, or her?

At the same time, Neuman’s eyes gradually turned cold. If whoever had come really was stupid enough to hurt her or her daughter, she would have no problem wiping out his entire family.

"Zoe... listen to Mommy..."

Neuman forced herself to calm down.

"Can you ask that older gentleman to take the phone for a second?"

"Okay~ Mommy, hold on."

Zoe’s obedient reply came from the other end, followed by the rustle of clothing.

Then the breathing on the phone changed.

A deep, powerful male voice came through the receiver.

"Victoria Neuman."

The man did not bother with small talk.

"Edgar’s adopted daughter, right?"

"Who are you?" Neuman asked. "I suggest you don’t hurt my daughter, or you’re going to regret it."

Zoe was everything to her. The one line no one was allowed to cross.

The other party had slipped silently into her heavily guarded home and even knew about her relationship with Edgar, the former president of Vought.

Whoever this was, he had not come with good intentions.

"My name is Benjamin," the man on the other end said with a low chuckle. "Of course, you can also call me by my codename."

"Soldier Boy."

Click.

Neuman’s hand shook, and the phone nearly dropped onto the floor of the car.

Soldier Boy?!

Was this some kind of sick joke?

Neuman, who had still sounded tough a moment ago, suddenly could not keep that front up anymore.

One minute, she had been in the square, shouting herself hoarse as she denounced Homelander and tried to drag him down from his pedestal.

The next, Homelander’s biological father, that superhero from the last century, had shown up directly inside her home?!

Soon, Neuman’s breathing grew sharp and ragged, her chest heaving.

Fear clamped around her throat like an invisible hand.

Her adoptive father, Edgar, had once sent a full twenty or thirty powerful Supes to surround and kill Soldier Boy, all to remove the threat for good.

A few of those monstrous Supes had abilities that came infinitely close to Queen Maeve’s, or even her own.

And the result?

They all died... Otherwise, her adoptive father would not be dead either.

Soldier Boy’s strength was absolutely on par with Homelander’s.

He might even be stronger than that overgrown man-baby.

Neuman had the ability to control blood and make heads explode.

But in front of a monster on this level, she knew very well that the power she was so proud of might not even be enough to give him a nosebleed.

"Mr. Benjamin! Please!"

Without hesitation, Neuman threw away every bit of political dignity and pretense she had. There was no toughness left in her voice now, only pleading.

"I know I was wrong... Please spare my daughter! Zoe doesn’t know anything. She’s just a child!"

Her voice was frantic.

"You can do whatever you want to me! I’ll do anything you ask!"

"Even if you want me dead, that’s fine. Please, just don’t touch Zoe..."

Click.

Beep, beep, beep...

But the person on the other end clearly had no interest in listening to her beg. He hung up.

Hearing the cold busy tone from the phone, Neuman nearly broke down.

"Drive faster! Move! Home! Get the fuck home!"

Neuman screamed at the driver in front.

...

Neuman’s home was in a luxury apartment downtown.

Benjamin sat beside the expensive solid-wood dining table.

He was wearing that distinctly old-fashioned green Supersuit, his entire body giving off a hard, blood-and-iron aura that warned people to stay the hell away.

With one leg crossed over the other, he grabbed a handful of Fries without ketchup and tossed them into his mouth.

He had to admit, McDonald’s fries in this world were just as damn good. Better than KFC and Burger King, at least.

Across the table, Zoe had already obediently put down the half-eaten egg tart in her hand.

The little girl shrank into the oversized chair, both hands clutching tightly at the hem of her clothes.

She stared at the tall man in front of her with timid eyes.

There was fear in them too.

The instant the man gave his name, Zoe suddenly remembered.

Her mom had once accidentally let a secret slip in the study while staring at a photo.

The man in front of her, this Benjamin, was the supervillain who had killed her grandpa.

Grandpa Edgar had never come back, and Mom had secretly cried several times.

Zoe’s breathing quickened, and her little face went pale.

"Bad mister, what... what do you want?"

Zoe worked up her courage and questioned him, her voice shaking.

"You’re a bad guy! Right?"

Benjamin looked at the trembling little girl across from him.

He could not help rolling his eyes, then swallowed the Fries in his mouth.

"I’m a fucking superhero, you little brat. Relax. As long as that politician mom of yours behaves her fucking self and does what she’s told, I don’t give a shit about either of you."

Hearing this handsome older guy casually spit out "fuck" left and right, Zoe’s face turned even paler.

Scenes from TV shows instantly flashed through the little girl’s mind.

Her mom was very pretty and had a great body.

Even though her mom already had a husband, Zoe knew there were still plenty of bad men out there who had nasty thoughts about her.

And now this foul-mouthed villain was sitting in their home like he owned the place, even waiting for her mom to come back.

The more Zoe thought about it, the more scared she became. Her big eyes quickly filled with tears.

"You... you’re here waiting for my mom..."

Zoe swallowed, then ate the egg tart. After that, with a clear sob in her voice, she timidly shrank back a little.

"You’re not planning to... do those weird things to my mom, are you? Like... fuck and stuff..."

The air suddenly went quiet.

Benjamin had just grabbed another handful of Fries. His hand froze in midair, and he looked at Zoe in speechless disbelief.

He stared at the teary-eyed little girl in front of him, the one whose imagination had gone completely off the rails, and for once, he felt like his own brain had short-circuited.

What the fuck was this nonsense?

What the hell were kids in America thinking about these days? How old was she, anyway?

And who the fuck taught her that word?