American comic book: Absolute Spider-Man

Chapter 110 Oi

Inside the glass curtain wall of the office building, the onlookers were horrified to find that the Homelander, whose eyes were glowing red, turned his head toward them.

Just as the crowd gasped and hot eyes were about to burst from the eyes of the man, a voice suddenly interrupted him.

"Oi, c*nt," Peter appeared in Times Square, "you lab-grown, orphan freak, do you like the memes I make?"

The dust of the sun transformed into a red and blue Spider-Man suit, and Peter, wearing the suit, loudly mocked Homelander.

"It seems like everyone really likes the emojis I made. Homelander, aren't you going to thank me for promoting you for free?"

Homelander didn't speak, but stared intently at Peter with his eyes flashing with a scarlet light.

Peter, however, seemed completely oblivious and continued his performance.

He snapped his fingers, and his suit projected a Homelander's bowl-cut hairstyle meme.

Peter glanced at the meme and couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Pfft, sorry, this picture looks like you went to the barbershop for a haircut. You told the barber you wanted a split top, but the barber gave you a bowl cut instead. You look in the mirror in despair, imagining the ridicule you'll face."

Peter continued to provoke Homelander: "You know what? The live surveillance here and my voice have been projected onto every electronic screen in the world that can receive information. Everyone has seen your meme and is still using it. Azu, you must be thrilled."

Peter then pointed to the Homelander meme with the bowl cut hairstyle and said, "You might not like it, but I think netizens will. From now on, this meme will be circulating on the internet forever."

"Are you done talking, you bug?" Homelander said.

The homelanders did not rush forward immediately.

He stood there, his chest heaving violently, his hot gaze burning twice in his eyes and then going out, like a match that was repeatedly lit and extinguished.

His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white, not just out of anger, but something deeper, something more insane, slowly tearing at his face, which was being broadcast live to the whole world.

"You're asking me if I like the memes you make?" His voice was hoarse and distorted. "You think I care? You think I—you think I fucking care about you guys?"

He stopped.

His lips were trembling, the muscles in his jaw were taut, and the veins at the corners of his eyes bulged like earthworms.

Then he suddenly laughed, a twisted laugh that was more chilling than his scream.

There was no joy in the laughter, only pure madness that remained after one person finally abandoned all pretense.

He pressed his hand to his chest, his fingers digging into the Stars and Stripes cape on the back of his suit, as if he wanted to tear the fabric off his body.

His fingernails dug into the Kevlar, making a teeth-grinding scraping sound.

"I am so disappointed. I love my chosen people like God, but how can you treat your God like this?"

He took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, the heat in his eyes completely disappeared.

He straightened up, smoothed out the crumpled Stars and Stripes, and ran his hands through his disheveled hair, combing it from his forehead to the back of his neck.

When he raised his head again, all the twitching, all the trembling, all the bulging veins disappeared, as if someone had put a new mask on his face, a mask bearing the Homelander's signature, perfect, standard business smile.

“But it’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. Because now I know. I’ve never understood before—why I love them, but they don’t love me. You just gave me the answer.”

Homelander looked at Peter, his smile unchanged, but his eyes held no laughter, only a calm madness: "The answer is: I don't need them to love me. I don't need anyone to love me. I am God. God doesn't need to be loved; God only needs to be revered and feared. You laugh at me not because I'm unworthy of love, but because you're not afraid of me."

He spread his arms out, like an actor taking a bow on stage.

The Stars and Stripes on his suit gleamed with a faint orange-red glow in the firelight from the large screens he had destroyed.

The street behind him was still burning, and thick smoke rose into the night sky from behind him.

But he just stood there, elegant and with a proper smile, as flawless as all his photos on the GG billboard in Times Square.

"So thank you," he said, nodding slightly in Peter's direction. "Thank you for helping me understand this lesson. In return, I will kill every single person in this world who doesn't respect, worship, or fear me."

His eyes glowed red again, and his voice became hysterical once more: "I will let you live to the end, until I kill all the rebels."

Homelander walked step by step toward Peter: "And until then, you will live on, in the most painful, desperate, and regretful way in the world."

The dust of the sun separated from Peter's armor, transforming into countless crimson tentacles that wrapped around the limbs and neck of the Homelander.

The father ignored the red dust and continued to approach Peter.

In his eyes, nothing in this world could stop him.

But he soon stopped.

Sundust can even control Kal-El, who has been charging under the yellow sun for weeks, let alone a beggar-yet-beggar Superman.

The Homelander, entangled in red ribbons formed from sun dust, began to struggle, but he found that no matter how hard he tried, the ribbons binding his limbs remained motionless.

"Let me go!" he roared, his hot gaze shooting out of his eye sockets and frantically scanning in Peter's direction.

Peter easily avoided the heat.

Although his spider-sense is gone, his super senses, reaction speed, and combat awareness inherited from a certain god-like being remain.

Homelander's heat gaze is focused on the center of his gaze. Let alone Peter, even an ordinary person skilled in psychological warfare and micro-expression reading could easily avoid his heat gaze.

Of course, even if an ordinary person survives the first wave of heat rays, they still won't survive.

The Homelander let out a sound that was somewhere between a roar and a scream, and jerked his head back, trying to break free of his restraints with brute force, but the ribbon of solar dust remained unmoved.

Like spider silk entwining its prey, they covered the homelander's head and his eyes, which were constantly emitting heat.

While completely sealing off his thermal vision pathways, Friday controlled the Sun Dust to leave breathing space in his nostrils and mouth, and even reserved sound wave channels around his ears so that he could clearly hear all the sounds from the outside world.

"Let me go!" Homelander roared, his muscles tensed to the limit, the Stars and Stripes on his suit stretched taut and deformed. "I'm going to kill him! I'm going to burn all of you to ashes! My heat vision, my heat vision, why isn't it working—what have you done to me!"

He frantically fired his heat vision, trying to destroy the crimson membrane covering his eyes.

But it was useless; the sun dust could help coordinate the destructive yellow sun energy within the Kryptonian human body.

The Homelander's laughable heat vision bombarded the solar dust, serving no purpose other than charging the armor.

Peter walked up to Homelander, who was bound like a dumpling by the dust of the sun, and whispered in his ear, "I'll say the same thing to you. You won't die so soon. I'll let you live in the way you fear most."

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