Chapter 255: 255: Go on, son, have a bump!

Homelander's face was twisted. He had both hands locked on Stormfront's throat and roared, "What the fuck gives that bitch the right to stand over me? I am the leader of the Seven!"

"Haa~ Edgar pulled your captain title? Ahhh! Just because her numbers beat yours?" Stormfront took the pounding and tried not to show how much it hurt.

"What other reason would there be?" Homelander squeezed harder, chasing the look of pain on her face. "Never in my life did I think I would get stepped on by some slut in cheap lingerie. Fuck Edgar. Where do I fall short of Starlight? I have done more for Vought than she ever will. Even Maeve should have been captain before her!"

"Let… let go." The choke plus Homelander coming unglued put a real spike of fear in Stormfront.

"I see it now. The mystery man and Edgar are in it together. He thinks that card lets him look down on me."

"I can't breathe!" Stormfront tried to break the grip. Homelander's hands were iron. She could barely move.

Homelander's hold on himself was almost gone. His face went ugly. "Won't be long. I will drag Edgar out of Vought in pieces."

"With Ivan here, even if Edgar leaves Vought you still don't get the top chair." Stormfront put everything she had into prying his fingers open. She sucked air the second she got a gap. "I have a way to kick that stone out of the road."

"Talk."

"If I remember right, Maeve is tight with that little girlfriend of hers. On set they were glued together." Stormfront got the words out in pieces.

"Yeah."

Homelander's face stayed dark. He nodded.

"Then we use the girlfriend. Make Maeve stand in front of the cameras and accuse Ivan…" Stormfront leaned to his ear and laid the plan out.

"A scandal that size will blow the whole country open. Ivan becomes the rat everyone wants to stomp."

Stormfront knew how to work a mob. The method was dirty and it would never look clean, but it worked. As long as Queen Maeve did not flip, there was almost no counter.

"Evidence? Nobody believes Maeve without proof. And besides…" Homelander did not finish. Stormfront cut him off. "Baby, nobody gives a shit about evidence. They want a party. A party for the 'good guys.' They will stand on the moral high ground and tear Ivan apart. People at the top cannot be good in their heads. People are complicated. They are also very simple."

Homelander hated the play. He also knew she was right. It would run exactly the way she said.

"You handle it. Do not disappoint me."

Ivan did not hear any of that. He had no habit of listening through walls like a pervert.

...

On the other side Hughie took Frenchie and MM to the penthouse where Termite was throwing a supe-only party. The music was loud. What they saw was enough to ruin a week. Cheap, filthy acts kept hitting them in the face.

The crowd around them cheered. Hughie looked sick.

"This place is a mess. I swear I am washing my eyes when we leave," MM said.

"We should split up; it'll be faster that way. You see Billy, you call me."

Hughie scanned the room. No Billy.

"See you in a bit."

Frenchie peeled off and spotted Termite performing up on a wooden frame. The crowd around him was packed. Frenchie could not push through.

"Whoa! That's sick, man!"

"Come on! Give it more!"

"Honestly, I can go smaller." Shirtless mini Termite showed off under the lights.

When the act ended he jumped off the frame. His body blew back up and the beach shorts ripped apart. His pants did not have that Hulk magic.

"Have fun, boys. I need a top-up. And a little fun." Termite grinned, threw on a robe, and walked into a room off the right side of the hall.

The place was packed and moving. Frenchie lost him for a second.

Inside, Termite finished his "top-up" and started a game with his boyfriend.

As Termite's hand worked deeper the man on the bed looked like he was about to lose his mind in the best way.

Then Termite's nose itched. A sneeze built hard. He held it at first. The more he held it the worse it got. He finally let it go.

"Accho!"

The second the sneeze left him his power snapped.

Squelch!

Meat and blood hit the walls.

Termite stared at the pile of scraps and let out a raw, broken roar. "No!!!"

Frenchie heard the noise and kicked the door in. What he saw froze him for a beat. "I didn't see a thing. Nothing happened here."

He talked and backed up at the same time.

Termite was not letting him walk. Nobody else could know he had just killed someone. He shrank, ran to Frenchie's shoe, and flung him. Even small, Termite still had strength and speed far past a normal man.

He slipped up the pant leg and headed for Frenchie's ass.

"Fucking hell!!!"

Frenchie went white.

Billy walked out from the side with a speaker in his hand. He hit the switch like it was nothing. The shock dumped Termite out of Frenchie's clothes. Termite hit the floor holding his head. He started to grow back. Billy was faster. He stuffed him in a plastic bag.

"Go on, son, have a bump!"

The little flour bag had been sitting in the room. Billy killed the speaker, shook the bag until Termite stopped fighting, then stopped.

"Long time." Billy smiled.

Frenchie still had not got his breath back. He looked at the bag and swallowed. "Almost crawled up my ass."

"Where's Hughie?"

Billy had been about to crush the bag. He thought about it and stayed his hand.

"You're not going to kill him?" Frenchie had heard the stories from the last few months. Billy was a supe butcher now, no question.

"Doing him a favor, mate. First time seeing the cunt in a while. Don't want it ugly right off the bat." Billy shrugged.

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Read 12 Advance Chapters—P@t- Captain69