US police: Plane crashes started with Homelander.

Chapter 14 Make America Great Again

Green Precinct, Brooklyn, New York.

The American flag has been hanging halfway down the flagpole in front of the police station for three days now.

The chaos in New York happened three days ago.

Although the people in the city are more concerned about when their roofs will be repaired, when the monster corpses in the sewers will be cleared away, and when those bastards who took advantage of the chaos will be caught.

Li Ang was clearly one of the disaster victims, while other companies and businesses were on holiday.

But as a police officer, Li Ang was even busier, breaking his own record by working continuously for thirty-six hours.

He changed his uniform twice. The first time was when he was chasing a bastard who robbed a pharmacy, and the other man slashed his sleeve with a crowbar.

The second time was when he was handling a home invasion robbery on Flatbush Avenue, and was so frightened by an old lady hiding in a closet that she vomited all over herself.

"Are you that tired? It's only a few minutes to get back to the police station from here."

Claire was sitting in the driver's seat when she said this, while Li Ang was lying in the passenger seat, his head leaning against the door, asleep. According to regulations, this would be considered a major mistake while on duty.

"Don't make a sound, I'm going to sleep for a while," Li Ang said.

Claire turned the steering wheel to the right, avoiding a pothole that hadn't been filled in yet, and the car lurched violently.

Li Ang's head hit the car door.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"you guess?"

Along the streets, scaffolding has been erected over the buildings that were rammed by beef cattle, fallen streetlights have been removed, and even the cracks on the Brooklyn Bridge have been temporarily reinforced with steel structures.

New York's efficiency is truly astonishing.

After all, this world's number one city has suffered many disasters since the emergence of mutants.

Unless the entire building has collapsed, the reconstruction of most areas is already more than halfway complete.

Because of this chaos, a lot of dirty things also got in.

Fugitives, smugglers, opportunistic thugs, and those idiots who think they can do whatever they want just because there aren't enough police officers.

Crime rates have skyrocketed this week, police schedules are full, all leave has been canceled, and even many office workers have been given a Taser and sent out on the streets.

While waiting at a red light, Claire grabbed a can of hot coffee from the control panel and drank it all in one gulp. She and Li Ang had been busy together until now.

She wasn't wearing her signature formal jacket today, but just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her well-defined forearms.

The same M1911 was still in the holster.

The car was parked downstairs at Li Ang's apartment.

Claire was very satisfied with Leon's performance these past few days. He was thoughtful in his actions and treated people well, but his English was just too poor.

She got excited and slapped Li Ang's butt.

"Alright, go back to your own bed and sleep."

"Damn, you're such a pervert!"

"hehe."

Li Ang got out of the car and closed the door. He was too tired to joke anymore; he was incredibly sleepy.

The car window rolled down, and Claire added, "I'll pick you up in six hours. I have a special mission today."

"What the hell? Six hours of sleep? Believe me or not, I quit. Do you think I'm a high school student?"

"Why use high school students as an example? That task is relatively easy; all you have to do is set an alarm."

Claire sped away in the modified Cadillac Blackwing police car.

Li Ang, recalling the slap on the butt he had just received, instinctively cursed.

"Old maid, I'll fuck you sooner or later."

He then hurried upstairs, opened the door, and collapsed onto the bed.

.........

Six hours later, Claire somehow got hold of the key and forcibly pulled the person up and pushed them into the car.

Heading to the Barclays Hotel in Midtown Manhattan.

This is one of New York's oldest five-star hotels, located in the heart of the city's most bustling area. Upon arrival, they realized what "high-standard" truly meant.

The entire street was blocked off.

A brand-new red carpet was laid out in front of the hotel's revolving door, and reporters and photographers crowded on both sides, their lenses forming a black array that stretched for more than ten meters.

Secret Service agents stood on either side of the red carpet, dressed in suits and ties, with transparent earpieces in their ears, staring expressionlessly in every direction.

Helicopters were circling overhead.

Li Ang and Claire were assigned to maintain order at the hotel entrance, which was basically just standing guard.

They stood on the edge of the red carpet in their police uniforms, watching the reporters jostling and pushing each other for better camera positions, the flashes of cameras already creating a white sea.

"Who's making such a big fuss, bringing so many people?" Li Ang leaned against a pillar in the hotel entrance, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "Could it be the Vice President?"

"The vice president has resigned because of this incident," Claire said.

"Are those people from Congress?"

Stop guessing.

Li Ang didn't guess.

Because he saw it.

In the sky, a blue, red, and white figure is rapidly growing larger.

His flag-adorned cape fluttered against the Manhattan skyline, and sunlight streamed down his back, casting a golden silhouette on him.

His flying posture was perfect, with his hands hanging naturally at his sides, his cloak trailing behind him in a straight line, and his speed perfectly controlled, neither too fast nor too slow, just enough for people on the ground to clearly see who he was.

His landing motion was carefully planned.

With one knee slightly bent and his right hand gently pressed to the ground, his cloak billowed slowly behind him like a real national flag. The entire movement was fluid and elegant, full of the ceremonial feel of a "hero's arrival."

Then he looked up and revealed that smile that the entire nation was familiar with.

"Homelander!" someone screamed.

Reporters surged forward in a frenzy. Secret Service agents maintaining order were pushed back by the crowd, some even abandoning their posts to take out their phones and start taking pictures.

Li Ang stood outside the crowd, his hands in his pockets, motionless.

Claire stood beside him, equally motionless.

"Look at his face," Claire whispered.

"I saw it."

He smiled.

He smiled.

Li Ang spoke those two words without any intonation. He looked at the blue, red, and white figure surrounded by reporters, and his mind was filled with the image of the same face hovering outside the cabin a few days earlier, eyes red, that had cut the plane in half.

The man from the motherland walked straight to the hotel entrance.

Wherever he walked, the crowd automatically parted to make way. He waved to both sides as he walked, a smile always on his face, as perfect as if measured with a ruler.

His uniform was exceptionally bright today, the blue areas spotless, and his red gloves and boots gleaming under the flashlights.

He didn't even glance at Li Ang and Claire as he passed by.

Of course he remembers them.

He simply doesn't care.

"Let's go." Li Ang turned and walked into the hotel.

"Where to?"

"Inside. I need to hear what he has to say."

Li Ang walked through the hotel lobby and followed the crowd toward the press conference hall. Claire followed behind him, neither stopping him nor asking any questions.

The press conference hall was already packed with reporters.

There were at least three hundred people, from major media outlets across the United States, including CNN, Fox, MSNBC, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and a bunch of online media outlets that Li Ang couldn't name. Dozens of cameras were set up at the back, all pointing at the stage in front.

Li Ang stood at the back of the crowd, leaning against the wall. Claire stood beside him, her arms crossed.

Reporters whispered among themselves, mostly speculating about the theme of Homelander's press conference. Some said it would be about New York's post-disaster reconstruction, while others guessed it was an announcement of Homelander's departure from the Seven and his solo career.

Several journalists were also discussing the assassination attempt on President Biden three days earlier, since the country is currently without a president.

Then the lights went out.

Only a spotlight remained above the podium.

The people of the motherland came out.

Countless flashes went off simultaneously, illuminating the entire press conference hall as if it were daytime. Li Ang squinted, watching the man stand under the spotlight, his hands lightly resting on either side of the podium.

"Everyone," Homelander began, his voice deep and powerful, with a unique and undeniable magnetism, "thank you for coming today."

He paused.

"Three days ago, our nation lost a great president. Mr. Biden was a patriot, an old man who dedicated his life to this country. His passing is a loss for all of us."

His tone was somber and sincere. If Li Ang didn't know what kind of person he was, he would most likely believe that he was genuinely mourning.

"But," Homelander raised his voice, "this country will not stop. America will never stop because of a tragedy."

A few days ago, New York City suffered a horrific attack; monsters crawling out of the sewers nearly destroyed the city. But New Yorkers did not fall. Americans did not fall.

applause.

It wasn't the perfunctory, polite applause, but genuine, heartfelt applause from the hundreds of journalists in the audience. Li Ang noticed that a reporter from the New York Times next to him had tears in his eyes while clapping.

That is his power. Not heat vision, not a body of steel. It is his ability to make everyone believe he is the savior.

"So today," Homelander's voice grew louder, shaking the entire press conference hall, "I want to tell you, I'm not here to save New York. I'm here to save this country."

He took a deep breath.

"I, John Homelander, hereby formally announce my candidacy for this year's presidential election."

Li Ang heard his heart skip a beat.

"I know this is the first time in history that a mutant has run for president."

The voices of the people of the motherland echoed in the quiet press conference hall.

"I know some will say this is inappropriate. I also know some will say this is dangerous. But I ask you, what could be more needed now than a true leader for this country?"

He took a step forward and stood at the edge of the podium, the spotlight enveloping him in a white halo.

"I can fly 10,000 meters high. I can smash a tank with one punch. I can fly from one end of this country to the other in an hour."

But none of that matters. What matters is that I'm willing to do anything for this country. Not just three days ago, not just now. I've always been willing.

He raised his right hand, palm open.

"For decades, I've asked myself every day, John, have you done enough? What else can you do? Now I know the answer."

He clenched his fist.

"I want to make America great again."

A tsunami of applause erupted from the audience.

The reporters stood up. Some cheered, some shouted his name, and some took out their phones to frantically film the stage. Many more simply stood there clapping, their faces flushed, as if ignited by some kind of faith.

Leon didn't clap. He glanced back at Claire, gesturing for her to go outside to talk.

Claire nodded slightly.

The two turned and walked towards the side door of the press conference hall. As soon as they pushed open the heavy soundproof door and entered the corridor, a familiar figure appeared before them.

She wore a short blue cheongsam, black pigtails, and sneakers. She leaned against the corridor wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest, facing the door, as if she had known all along that he would come out from here.

It's leaf green.

"What are you doing here?" Li Ang was taken aback. "Where have you been these past few days?"

"Investigation." Ye Ziqing said these two words in a flat tone, but Li Ang noticed that she had obvious dark circles under her eyes and her lips were a little chapped, as if she hadn't rested much in the past few days.

"Investigate what?"

"Investigate something." Her gaze passed over Leon's shoulder and landed on the closed door at the end of the corridor. From behind that door, Homelander's voice could still be faintly heard, accompanied by bursts of applause, "He really announced his candidacy?"

"Yes," Li Ang said.

Ye Ziqing didn't speak; she just stared at the door.

"You still haven't answered my question," Li Ang said. "You said you wanted to kill Homelander the other day. Why?"

Ye Ziqing turned her gaze back to Li Ang's face.

"you guess."

"Has anyone in your family been accidentally killed by him?"

"No," Ye Ziqing said. "My parents are both alive and well. They even asked me to come back last month because New Year's Day is coming soon."

Li Ang considered the worst-case scenario: "Did he force you to do that kind of thing?"

"No, I'm still a C."

"Then why?"

"He deserves to die. According to my investigation, he has 'accidentally killed' no fewer than a hundred people in various incidents so far, and that's even with incomplete data; the actual number is definitely much higher."

Leon frowned. "Just because of that?"

"Otherwise what?" Ye Ziqing straightened up. "I hate those clichéd family stories."

Do you think I only have the right to hate him if my family members die at his hands? Does only those who have died have the right to discuss the value of life? Perhaps killing isn't necessary, but someone must stop him and punish him.

Li Ang said, "But it doesn't necessarily have to be you. There are so many people in this world. Let someone more capable come. I've seen your skills. Going to provoke the Homelanders is just courting death."

"Heh, he's been acting recklessly for over a decade. Anyone who dared to stand up was killed by him under some pretext," Ye Ziqing said.

"Then why..."

"Someone has to do these things. It doesn't have to be me, but I'll do it anyway."

She spoke casually, as if stating a weather fact.

"I also found out something else. There was a plane crash before. It was initially said that everyone on board died, but the next day the newspapers changed their story and said that only one passenger survived by missing the check-in. But this was clearly newsworthy, yet it was suppressed and didn't cause a ripple."

Li Ang remained silent.

"Actually, you were on the plane at the time, weren't you?" Ye Ziqing said slowly.

The corridor was quiet for a few seconds.

"So you want to kill him?" Li Ang asked.

"right."

Are you alone?

"Is that not allowed?"

"I don't think it will work," Li Ang said decisively.

"And what about you?" Ye Ziqing suddenly retorted. "You were almost killed by him, and you also have superpowers. Logically speaking, he shouldn't have let you go even though you're a living witness. I don't know how you're going to talk to him, or how you're going to stand here so brazenly. But are you just going to let it go like this?"

"right."

"real?"

"Otherwise what? First of all, there are more politicians behind him than all the people I know in New York combined. And he's so strong, I can't beat him, let alone kill him."

What Li Ang didn't say was that unless he killed a few more skill packs, there was only a slight possibility.

"So you plan to spend your whole life as a policeman, watching Homelander become a hero, president, and make a mess of the world?"

"It's not just me watching, the whole world is watching. I've also checked the records. Homelander has saved a lot of people, otherwise people wouldn't praise him so highly."

Ye Ziqing was silent for a few seconds. Then she said, "The fact that he saved more people than he killed doesn't mean he's innocent. Human lives can't be calculated with simple addition and subtraction. As long as he has killed innocent people, he is already a criminal in my eyes."

Li Ang didn't understand her. Although what she said made a lot of sense, Li Ang wouldn't dwell on it.

Li Ang stared at her for a long time.

"So you mean you want me to help you?"

"Yes." Ye Ziqing nodded. "I am indeed too weak. No one at the Mutant Affairs Center was willing to help me, so I came here alone. Do you believe in fate? The first person I met in New York was related to what I was doing, and you are also a mutant with pretty good abilities. You will definitely be a great help."

There was another long silence.

"But I refuse. I admire you for doing such a... great... cause all by yourself, and I feel sorry that no one understands your situation. But it's true that Homelander hasn't caused me any trouble, which is something that others have worked hard to achieve for me. Homelander is too powerful. Even if I become a superhero someday and have the same status and strength as him, it will be very difficult to take him down, let alone now."

"You're too realistic; girls won't like that."

"It's not that I'm being materialistic, it's just the truth. And take my advice: if you can't do something now, how about considering it later? How old are you?"

"21".

"Yeah, by the time you've improved your kung fu in a few years, and I've become stronger too, maybe the 'Homelander' will be washed up, injured, or crushed by public opinion. Maybe by then you won't want to do this kind of thing anymore. There's no need to rush this."

"Actually, I'm afraid I won't have the courage and drive in the future, which is why I'm doing this even though I have nothing."

After saying this, Ye Ziqing walked away without looking back, pushed open the fire door at the end of the corridor, and disappeared.

Li Ang stood there, watching the door slowly close, and let out a long sigh.

It was truly an in-depth conversation.

The only sounds in the corridor were the applause and cheers coming from the distant press conference hall, muffled by the soundproof doors.

Before he could turn around, he heard the sound of a door opening from the other side.

The side door of the press conference hall was pushed open a crack, and a beam of light shone through, along with the highly recognizable voice of the author.

"...Make America Great Again!"

Thunderous applause erupted.

Then the door was pushed open even wider, and someone squeezed in through the crack, closing the door behind them to shut out the applause.

Claire.

She leaned against the wall next to the door and glanced at Li Ang.

"I accidentally heard everything just now," she said.

"Is this considered an accident?"

Li Ang grumbled, his mind filled with a myriad of thoughts.