Listening to Homelander's words, Scott's heart was shaken.
For three years, everyone had treated him like a criminal, a thief.
From the moment he left prison until now, everyone had been dismissing him. Prison guards warned him not to make mistakes again, his ex-wife accused him of being irresponsible, and companies looked down on his criminal record.
Even he himself felt that he could only spend the rest of his life doing petty crimes to make a living.
And now, a billionaire he had just met by chance was telling him so firmly: You are a true hero.
But the light in Scott's eyes only flickered for a moment before quickly dimming again.
He gave a bitter laugh and took another heavy gulp of his drink.
"A hero? Stop joking, sir."
Scott shook his head self-deprecatingly, his face flushed from the effects of the alcohol.
"Don't kid me, man. What kind of hero ends up looking as pathetic as I do?"
"Superheroes are like Homelander flying in the sky, or Captain America with his shield. They have superpowers; they save the World."
"And me? I'm just an idiot who ruined everything for a moment of heroism!"
"If this is what happens when you're a hero, then I'd rather be a coward!"
"I was too stupid... I really was too foolish..."
Watching Scott break down in tears before him as the alcohol hit his head, even hating his own former moments of brilliance.
Homelander didn't interrupt him, just listening quietly.
This was the tragedy of many civilian heroes in the Marvel Universe. They had hearts of gold, but were often ground into the dirt by cruel reality until all their luster was gone.
Once Scott's emotions had calmed down a bit, Homelander spoke again.
"Scott, what do you think a hero is?"
"Is it being able to fly around in the sky? Or having an invulnerable body?"
"Listen, that kind of hero is easy to be. Because they have absolute power, they don't have to pay much of a price."
"But you, my friend, you knew exactly what you were going to face."
"But you did it anyway."
"You can feel regret, you can feel pain. But you must never deny the decision you made back then."
Homelander raised his glass and lightly clinked it against Scott's.
"Heroes are those who know exactly what their end will be, yet still charge forward without looking back."
*Clink—*
The crisp sound of glass clinking rang in Scott's ears, shattering the haze that had been suppressed deep in his heart for three years!
He stood there like a wooden statue, his lips trembling slightly as tears finally flowed uncontrollably.
But it wasn't because of grievance or regret.
It was because of the immense emotion of being deeply understood and recognized!
"Sir..." Scott sobbed, messily wiping his tears with his sleeve, but they only flowed faster.
"Thank you... really, thank you!"
"No one... no one has ever said these things to me before."
Notification! special popularity value +30,000 received! (From Scott Lang)
"Finally, it's here. It seems my persuasion skills haven't regressed."
Homelander maintained a gentle smile on his face while silently giving himself a thumbs-up in his heart.
"Alright, man. Tears can't wash away the past, but alcohol can."
"Hey, bartender—!"
In a great mood, Homelander pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and slapped them onto the bar with a "thwack."
"Bring out the best, strongest liquor in your cabinet! Fill everyone's table!!"
The bartender's eyes lit up at the sight of the stack of at least ten thousand dollars, and he immediately turned around nimbly to get the drinks.
Homelander stood up and turned to look at the twenty-some male and female patrons scattered around the bar.
"Tonight!" Homelander shouted in a booming voice, "The whole house's consumption is on me!"
The people in the bar froze for a second, then erupted into a roar of cheers and whistles that seemed ready to blow the roof off.
Homelander raised a freshly poured glass of tequila high.
"Let's all have a drink for my friend, Scott Lang!"
"To Scott!"
The patrons raised their glasses one after another, echoing loudly.
The bartender switched the originally soothing blues music to high-energy rock, and the lights began to strobe.
The atmosphere of the entire bar was instantly ignited, becoming heated and wild.
Scott wiped away his tears, looking at the strong liquor set before him and the strangers raising their glasses to him. He felt a long-lost sense of exhilaration.
"To hell with Vistacorp! To hell with Paxton!"
Scott picked up a glass of strong liquor and clinked it heavily against Homelander's.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
When drinking with a true friend, a thousand cups are not enough.
Under the relaxed atmosphere and humorous conversation deliberately guided by Homelander, Scott completely opened his heart.
He was no longer restrained, no longer self-conscious.
He began telling Homelander about how adorable his daughter Cassie was, about the various random survival skills he had learned in prison, and even complained about how Luis could never get to the point when he spoke.
Homelander also relaxed, enjoying this pure, mundane social interaction as an "ordinary person."
After several rounds of strong liquor.
Scott's tongue was tied, and his eyes were glazed.
With a "thud."
He slumped onto the bar, letting out thunderous snores.
Homelander stood up as well, pinning a few hundred-dollar bills under his glass.
He gave a casual instruction to the bartender who was wiping glasses.
"Don't throw him out; let him sleep until he wakes up naturally. If he throws up, consider this money your cleaning fee."
"When he wakes up tomorrow, give him this." Homelander handed over a card.
The bartender's eyes lit up at the hundred-dollar bills, and he immediately nodded respectfully. "No problem, sir! I guarantee he'll sleep like a baby."
Homelander didn't stay any longer, pushing open the bar door and walking into the San Francisco night.
On the streets, a thick sea fog began to spread.
At the bar's entrance, a brand-new Aston Martin sat silently, its engine humming like a low beastly growl.
The car window slowly lowered.
Sitting in the driver's seat was the stunningly beautiful Miss Skynet.
She wore a sexy black low-cut corset dress, her long hair gently swaying in the sea breeze.
Seeing Homelander come out, Skynet pushed open the car door and walked toward him in high heels.
She naturally wrapped her arms around Homelander's neck and gave him a lingering, passionate kiss.
"Sir, how was your vacation experience?" Skynet whispered in Homelander's ear.
"Very pleasant."
Homelander put his arm around her slender waist, opened the car door for her, and then sat in the passenger seat.
The Aston Martin roared, its headlights trailing a beam of light as it tore through the San Francisco fog, speeding toward the Fairmont Hotel.