American comic book: Absolute Spider-Man

Chapter 115 What I Want is Free Fighting

The top floor of an abandoned apartment building in Lower Manhattan.

On the screen was a video that had been playing on an automatic loop countless times: Homelander was wrapped up like a dumpling with a bright red ribbon, and then a person wearing a red and blue bodysuit flew out of the frame with Homelander.

He sat on the edge of the rooftop, looking at Homelander's face covered in red dust over and over again, as if chewing a piece of gum he had been chewing for eight years, finally tasting something other than the rubbery flavor.

The red dust seemed to pierce through the screen, enveloping the rooftop behind Butcher.

"Billy Butcher." A strange voice came from behind him.

Butcher turned around.

He saw the man in the red and blue battle suit standing in the center of the rooftop, carrying the unconscious Homelander in one hand.

"I don't know you," Butcher said.

"It doesn't matter if you don't know me, as long as you know him." Peter left Homelander on the concrete floor of the rooftop.

Butcher stepped forward and slapped the unconscious Homelander twice: "Of course I know him. He's the deepest nightmare in every one of my dreams."

Homelander was the root of all his obsessions, and Butcher lost his mind the moment he saw him unconscious and appearing before him without any warning.

P-988 Butcher grinned grotesquely, not caring what Peter was there to do. The disgusting tentacles formed by the fusion of the tumor in his body and Compound V pierced through the skin of his chest and stabbed at Homelander's ear canal.

The solar dust shattered these tentacles at a microscopic level, preventing Butcher from trying to destroy the Homelander's brain.

As if driven mad, several more tentacles pierced out of Butcher's chest and reached towards Homelander.

The dust of the sun formed a translucent cocoon, enveloping Butcher and his tentacles.

Butcher glared at Peter and roared, "I don't know who you are, but what are you doing bringing him here if you're not going to let me kill him? To humiliate me?"

Peter held up a finger and shook it: "No, no, no, of course not. I just think it's unfair to bully someone who can't fight back."

"Unfair? Then what do you consider fair?"

Peter withdrew the solar dust that had severed Homelander's nerve signals, and Homelander immediately awoke.

His eyelids trembled violently, his pupils suddenly focused, and then his body began to struggle instinctively.

"Let me go! Let me go! I am a man of my homeland, I am your god. You can't treat me like this, let me go!"

The sound was sharp and piercing.

"Butcher," Peter said, not bothering to look at Homelander, but instead watching the Avenger being bound by a semi-transparent cocoon formed from solar dust, "you ask me what fairness means. I think it's not fair to bully someone who can't fight back, but Homelander's superpowers are too overpowered, so that's not fair to you either."

"So, the fairness you want is—" Butcher heard Peter's unspoken message, his eyes widened, he licked his lips, and asked expectantly.

"It's definitely going to be a real, hard-hitting, manly duel, where neither of us is allowed to use superpowers."

As Peter spoke, he placed his palm on the chest of the Fatherlander.

A golden light shone in his palm, and a deep humming sound spread across the rooftop.

"I'm going to kill you, do you hear me! I'll burn you to ashes with my heat vision—it only takes me a second, just one second, and I can burn you so badly your own mother wouldn't recognize you!! You'd better let me go now, or once I break free of these things, I'll make you regret ever being born."

"What do you want to say now?" Peter said. "You can say it now."

Homelander's eyes snapped to the golden light, his pupils dilated to their limit in an instant, and his mouth opened, letting out an extremely sharp scream.

It is sharper and more uncontrollable than a baby's cry.

"No! No! Please—I can give you money, I can give you anything you want! Walter—"

Walter can give you, no, the whole of America can give you, I can pierce his chest with golden light, and his howl stopped abruptly the moment the golden light pierced his chest.

Then he started wailing, like a baby abandoned by the whole world.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and his lips trembled as he squeezed out a few broken syllables, making it impossible to tell whether he was begging for mercy or cursing.

The dust of the sun receded from his limbs and shrunk back into Peter's suit.

"Your superpowers are gone, John." Peter stood up and looked down at the man who once called himself God.

He continued in a flat, businesslike tone: "You are no longer a god."

You are just a middle-aged man who grew up in a laboratory and has never been loved by anyone.

But now, you still have a free-fighting match to fight.

He turned to the cocoon of solar dust that had ceased its struggle and said, "Butcher, it's your turn."

The cocoon formed from solar dust shed from Butcher's body and retracted back into Peter's suit: "To be fair, I'll also strip you of your superpowers."

"With pleasure." Butcher spread his hands, facing Peter.

Those tumor tentacles, possessing a certain degree of self-will, emerged from his chest and stabbed at Peter, as if rebelling against his own doomsday.

Peter waved his hand, and the grotesque tentacles formed by the fusion of the tumors growing wildly on his body and Compound V struggled violently under the cover of solar dust, before being crushed layer by layer.

His body tensed up suddenly, his teeth clenched so tightly they clicked, but his eyes never left his homelander.

Golden light pierced his chest. Butcher groaned, kneeling on one knee, one hand bracing himself on the concrete floor.

The tentacles that pierced his chest turned to ashes in the golden light, his superpowers were burned away, and the tumor inside his body was also burned away.

He gasped for breath, collapsed to his knees, and a feeling of weakness almost overwhelmed him.

Those tumors were a side effect of the injection of Temporary No. 5. While they were robbing him of his life, they were also supporting his body and keeping his bodily functions running before he completely collapsed.

Without these tumors, his life would have come to an end.

But in Butcher's eyes there was no fear or regret, only the anticipation of impending redemption and the madness of heading towards destruction.

He turned to look at the people of his motherland.

Homelander was slumped on the concrete floor, his blond hair plastered messily to his forehead, his lips trembling violently, tears and snot streaming down his face.

It covered his face.

Butcher gritted his teeth and forced his body, which had reached its limit, to stand up.

He couldn't fall down, he couldn't just die like that; he had one last thing to do.

He grinned maliciously and called out to the middle-aged giant baby who had lost his superpowers, "0i, c*nt".