Chapter 24: Politeness Matters

The moment the man in the rabbit mask realized the bomb wasn't going to explode, he darted deeper into the department store. As the sound of shattering glass echoed from behind, he dove behind a cashier's counter and grabbed his radio. "Kill them! Kill all the hostages!" he barked.

Immediately, the extremists in the furniture section on the fifth floor raised their guns, ready to fire. But before they could pull the trigger, a series of soft "whiz" sounds filled the air.

Suddenly, the foreheads of each man burst open, spraying blood, and revealing the ends of sharp pens that had pierced through the back of their skulls, killing them instantly.

However, the hostages weren't only on the fifth floor. On the fourth floor, in the baby products section, a large number of hostages, including many young mothers and infants wrapped in swaddling clothes, were also being held at gunpoint.

Without hesitation, the extremists there prepared to open fire as well.

Cries of despair filled the air as people huddled together, mothers instinctively shielding their children with their bodies, bracing for the worst.

But the sound of gunfire never came. Instead, two crimson beams shot down from the ceiling, cutting through the air in a wide arc. The extremists froze in place, their bodies severed into pieces.

On the fifth floor, Homelander stood with a smile, lowering his head as his eyes, still glowing red from the laser beams he had just fired, returned to normal.

He had already scanned the building, knowing exactly where each extremist was positioned. His plan was executed perfectly, leaving them no chance to harm any hostages.

"Failed, didn't you?" the man in the rabbit mask, hiding behind the cashier's counter, glanced nervously toward the furniture section. No gunfire had erupted from either the fifth or fourth floors.

His heart sank.

This man was the mastermind behind the entire operation—Homelander's target, Ghandi Al-Dar.

Hearing a sharp whooshing sound, Ghandi instinctively rolled to the side just before the cashier's counter exploded behind him. As debris flew through the air, a blue-suited figure emerged, casually brushing dust from his shoulders.

Ghandi's teeth clenched as he spat out through gritted teeth, "Damn you, Homelander!"

Homelander heard him loud and clear and shook his head. "The game's over," he said, his tone calm and casual. "You've got two options."

"One, you can tell me everything about your little 'Night Council,' and I'll make it quick for you."

"Or two, you can keep your mouth shut, and I'll break every bone in your body—one by one—until you're nothing but a pile of mush."

Ghandi removed his mask, revealing a Middle Eastern face. "In your dreams, Homelander. You'll never get a word out of me."

"Oh, really?" Homelander smiled as he lifted off the ground, hovering slightly above. "Let me just double-check—are you Ghandi Al-Dar?"

The man's stunned expression told Homelander everything he needed to know.

"Got it," Homelander smirked and, in a flash, appeared right in front of Ghandi, his boot crushing down on the man's right foot.

Ghandi let out an agonizing scream as the bones in his toes shattered under the pressure, his foot becoming a bloody mess.

"Oops, got a bit carried away there," Homelander said, shrugging nonchalantly.

In response, Ghandi raised his rifle, almost pressing it against Homelander's chest, and pulled the trigger.

"Die!" Ghandi roared, his temple pulsing with rage as he emptied the entire magazine into the blue-suited figure before him.

Homelander barely flinched. As the bullets warped and fell harmlessly to the ground, he casually reached out, grabbing the rifle by its barrel.

With a single squeeze, the metal twisted and buckled, causing the gun to explode in Ghandi's hands, shredding his fingers with shrapnel.

Ghandi screamed and stumbled backward, clutching his bloodied hand, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe.

"Long live the Council!" he shouted, plunging the needle into his thigh and injecting the liquid inside.

Homelander watched with mild interest as the man's skin began to darken to a metallic black, his teeth falling out one by one, only to be replaced by a set of razor-sharp fangs.

Maeve approached just then, having taken care of the other extremists. She saw Ghandi's grotesque transformation and frowned. "What's happening to him?"

Homelander grinned, waving at her. "He's juicing up. I saw something like this at the airport before. They're injecting some mysterious serum that turns them into monsters."

Maeve spread her hands, baffled. "And you're just standing there watching?"

"What's the harm?" Homelander shrugged. "It'd be rude to attack before he finishes his little transformation. I'm a polite guy."

Maeve laughed dryly. "Oh, you're so polite."

Then, like a freight train, she charged forward, slamming into Ghandi with full force. His body twisted unnaturally as he was thrown across the room, likely breaking his spine in the process.

Hovering nearby, Homelander crossed his arms and settled in to watch.

"Maeve, you should really consider getting some weapons. A sword and shield would suit you," he called out, amused.

Maeve shot him a look. "My body's the only weapon I need."

As she turned back toward Ghandi, she saw him standing once again, his previously twisted back snapping back into place. His bloodshot eyes gleamed with the same eerie crimson glow she had seen in other transformed individuals, though he still maintained a mostly human shape.

Maeve scowled as Homelander's voice chimed in. "Their weak spot is the head. Take that out, and they're done for good. Otherwise, they'll keep regenerating—just like the vampires in old myths."

Without a word, Maeve dashed forward again. After a few quick steps, she leaped, clamping her powerful thighs around Ghandi's head and giving it a sharp twist.

Crack!

His neck snapped instantly, sending his body spinning through the air before crashing to the floor.

Maeve stood, poised, and spun on her heel. She lifted her leg high above her head and brought it down like an axe, aiming straight for Ghandi's skull.

Just as her heel was about to crush his head, Ghandi scurried to the side with unnatural agility, like a lizard, causing her kick to miss.

Boom!

The entire fifth floor shook from the impact, and the ground beneath her foot shattered, sending racks of merchandise crashing down around them.

But Ghandi wasn't dead yet. He twisted his neck back into place and darted toward the nearest window, smashing through it and falling toward the parking lot below.

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