Unless Skynet is turned into Marvel's strictest young lady...
Or digging the Mind Stone out of Skynet's head again and reinstalling it onto his own Infinity Gauntlet.
But Skynet is now deeply bound with the Mind Stone. If forcibly stripped away, Skynet would surely die on the spot, just like Vision in the original movie.
Even if she uploaded her core code, she would lose her true "soul" and regress into a string of cold data.
At that point, she would no longer be a "she," but an "it."
Although Homelander knew that if he gave the order, Skynet would definitely dig out the stone and offer it to him without hesitation.
But...
Looking at the beautiful and studious Miss Skynet before him.
Homelander sighed faintly in his heart.
He simply couldn't bear to lose such a capable and loyal assistant.
"Sir? Is there a problem?" Skynet noticed the strange look in Homelander's eyes and asked.
"It's nothing." Homelander retracted his thoughts, a smile playing on his lips. "I just think you're more charming today than you were yesterday."
Hearing Homelander's words, a flush appeared on Skynet's cheeks.
She gave Homelander a charming smile, then leaned down and twisted her waist to slip under the covers at Homelander's feet.
"Wait, again?"
"Whoa! Okay! Come on, then!"
...
Meanwhile, in an old-fashioned tavern in San Francisco.
Scott was slumped over the sticky bar counter when he suddenly twitched.
"Ugh..."
He let out a groan of pain, clutching his heavy head with both hands, and struggled to pull his face off the sour-smelling surface.
The hangover's aftereffects left his mouth dry and his stomach churning.
He shook his head slightly, then opened his eyes. His Vision was a bit blurry as he squinted to look around.
"Awake, sleeping beauty?"
Behind the bar, the bartender, who was wiping a glass, glanced at him and pushed over a glass of lemon Water with plenty of ice and two aspirin tablets.
"Drink some of this; it'll help with your hangover."
"Thanks..." Scott took the Water, his hand trembling as he grabbed the pills, stuffed them into his mouth, and then took a large gulp of the ice Water.
It slightly suppressed the burning sensation in his stomach and restored a trace of clarity to his brain.
Scott rubbed his throbbing Sun-temples and tried hard to recall what had happened last night.
The van that wouldn't stop... the dented supercar... that wealthy man named "Daniel"...
It seemed everything that happened last night wasn't a dream; he really had crashed into a supercar.
Then, he had been drinking in this old bar with that easy-smiling billionaire, Daniel.
Daniel hadn't made him pay the astronomical repair costs but instead had patiently listened to him vent his bitter Water all night.
"You are a true hero..." Those words echoed in his mind once more.
For three years, he had heard nothing but ridicule. This was the first time someone had so sincerely affirmed the decision that had ruined his life.
Scott quickly turned his head to look at the seat next to him.
It was empty.
"Where's Daniel?" Scott looked urgently at the bartender. "The gentleman in the suit... the one I was drinking with last night."
"He left last night," the bartender replied. "He's a very generous man; he left enough money for you to stay the night here."
"Also, before he left, he told me to pay your towing fee. That junker of yours should be parked at a repair shop not far from here."
Hearing this, a surge of gratitude rose in Scott's heart. What a good man; not only did he waive the massive debt, but he even cleaned up the mess.
"He also left this for you."
The bartender pulled an item from his apron pocket, placed it on the bar, and pushed it toward Scott.
Scott looked down.
It was a metal pendant hanging on a black nylon cord.
The pendant reflected a silver-grey luster, shaped like a teardrop, resembling a drop of mercury about to fall.
"What is this?" Scott reached out and picked up the pendant.
"He told me to tell you..." The bartender repeated the words Homelander had left the previous night.
"This thing will bring you good luck and help you out of trouble when you're in a bind. It's a gift from a friend."
"Friend..."
Scott silently repeated the word in his heart.
An ex-con with nothing to his name was actually called a friend by a billionaire driving a multi-million dollar supercar.
He had even given him the dignity and recognition he needed most.
A warm current welled up from the bottom of Scott's heart as he solemnly slipped the black nylon cord over his head and hung the metal pendant around his neck.
The pendant pressed against his skin, giving him an inexplicable sense of security.
He stood up and nodded to the bartender.
"Thank you."
Scott pushed open the wooden door of the bar and stepped onto the morning streets of San Francisco.
The Sun's rays shone through the mist, falling on his face.
He took a deep breath of the slightly chilly air. Although he still had no job, no money, and was even crashing on a former cellmate's sofa.
But his eyes no longer held that dead, ashen look of someone ready to give up on life.
"Starting over."
Scott told himself that he would not only survive but live like a hero—even if it was only a hero in his daughter's eyes.
...
Half an hour later, Scott returned to Luis's old apartment.
Luis and a few accomplices were huddled around a table, whispering over a simple map.
Seeing Scott come in, Luis was delighted and quickly asked, "Buddy, where were you last night? The guy from the repair shop called me. I saw the front of the car was all dented in; I thought you'd been kidnapped by a gang!"
Scott didn't answer his question but walked to the table and took a bite of a burger.
"Luis." Scott swallowed the food and spoke slowly. "That big job you mentioned yesterday—I'm in."
Luis froze for a moment, then let out a cheer.
"I knew it! I knew you were still one of us at heart! That's a real fat sheep—a millionaire living on his pension. There's a huge safe hidden in his Underground Room, surely filled with gold bars and cash!"
Scott looked at his excited, bad-influence friend and silently swallowed his food.
He had agreed to do this job not for the money, nor because he was letting himself go.
He had thought about it for a long time. Daniel was right; he was a hero, and his original decision wasn't wrong.
This time, he had a completely different plan in mind.
"A retired old man's safe, yet it's comparable to the vault of the Federal Reserve Bank?" Scott sneered in his heart.
This was definitely no ordinary burglary. Someone with that level of security was no pushover, and the mysterious employer hiring Luis through various channels behind the scenes certainly had ulterior motives.