Frenchie's hand trembled as he pulled out a small revolver and shoved it against Butcher's chin, his eyes wide with panic now. "You bloody take him back, Butcher!" he shouted, his French accent thickening with anger. "This shit is your problem, not mine!"

Butcher's smirk only widened, infuriatingly calm in the face of Frenchie's rage. He didn't flinch at the revolver pointed at him. "Translucent saw your fucking face, mate. Now it's your problem too."

Kevin Levin watched silently from the shadows, his arms crossed as he observed the tense exchange. He recognized the familiar design of the guns Frenchie carried. Six years in this goddamn world had taught him to know the key players and their dirty games. Frenchie was a gunrunner by trade. He was a name Kevin knew well through mutual suppliers. Having gang affiliations didn't hurt either. Frenchie had gained quite an animosity from the Russians afterall.

Ofcourse, he was far above this gang shit. But still, a little precaution didn't hurt anybody.

Frenchie muttered a rapid string of curses in French, his frustration evident even as he switched back to English. "Do you fucking realize what they'll fucking do to us if they find out we've got him?"

Butcher's grin only widened. "That's why we fucking need to figure out what to do with him before they do, isn't it?"

Hughie nervously interjected. The boy couldn't just hold on it, "Guys, maybe we should calm down and figure this out."

Butcher shot Hughie a glance, his own expression hard as he looked at Frenchie with a smile. "Stay the fuck up, Hughie. We've got bigger fucking problems."

Kevin remained silent. It was clear that Butcher and Frenchie had a history together. Frenchie wasn't angry. He was more like frustrated and irritated.

Frenchie shook his head vehemently. He calmed down a little and Kevin could feel that he was going to sign up.

"I still fucking hate this, Butcher."

"You don't have to fucking like it, Frenchie," Butcher immediately shot back. "You just have to fucking do it."

Butcher finally turned to Kevin, a calculating look in his eyes as he looked at the newcomer who joined them. "You got any bright ideas?"

Kevin uncrossed his arms, meeting Butcher's gaze evenly. "Maybe. But first, let's get Translucent somewhere safe. We can't afford any more attention."

Frenchie glanced over at Butcher, his brow furrowed with curiosity and intrigue alike. "So, Butcher, who are these two newbies?" He nodded towards him and Hughie.

Butcher grunted as he slammed the trunk shut. "Hughie here," he jerked his thumb at the nervous young man, "I picked up on a mission. Green as grass, but he's got potential."

Hughie shifted uncomfortably under Frenchie's scrutiny, but said nothing.

"But this one," Butcher continued, turning to Kevin, "he just dropped in when we knocked down Translucent. His name's Kevin and he's a freelancer like us."

"I know a place nearby where we can lay low." Frenchie suddenly spoke up as he looked at the trunk with a frown.

Butcher nodded in agreement. "Good. Let's get moving then."

Kevin glanced at the others, his mind already racing through the next steps. "There's a place on the way where we can take care of Translucent's signal. We should stop there first."

Frenchie nodded again, already heading towards his van. "Right. I'll take care of the van."

"You go in the van. Hughie will be with me." Butcher said as he looked at Frenchie who had already started the van.

Kevin simply nodded. He was just tagging along, because his interest was mostly on the member of the seven. The team that Butcher had formed seemed to be quite odd and incompetent to him.

He took a seat besides Frenchie, while Butcher and Hughie followed them in the car.

As they drove, Frenchie stole glances at Kevin, his curiosity getting the better of him. "So, Kevin," he began in his thick French accent tinged with English, "what's your story? How did you end up mixed up in all this?"

Kevin leaned back in his seat. So this was it. A man who was just too burdened by his own past and a need for saving people. This was ridiculous albeit a little respectful. Butcher's team was really a clown show. "Let's just say I stumbled into this mess. Been surviving here long enough to know a thing or two."

"How do you plan to handle Translucent?" Kevin asked Frenchie with a frown.

"I know a place where we can lie low for a while. It's off the radar, safe from prying eyes." He whispered. "Can't say about Translucent. Every supe need different methods to take down. Bloody lot of them." Frenchie angrily murmured.

"I think a C4 bomb through his ass would be better. His outer skin is as hard as a diamond, but his inner must be squishy like a normal human. It's the quickest way for sure." Kevin commented offhandedly.

Frenchie's eyes suddenly turned to him more curiously. He slowly smiled after some moments while looking at the road with a thoughtful gaze. "I think we are going to be good friends."

The buildings grew taller and more luxurious as they neared their destination. Finally, they pulled up outside a large building. There were guards which bowed respectfully to them as they emerged out of the van and the car.

"So what's your plan?" Butcher asked with a frown, looking around the area with a grimace.

Kevin turned to the others. "Wait for me in the lobby. I have some work to do. I will get the device in the meantime." He spoke up with a smirk.

Butcher raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Fine, we'll wait. Don't take too long."

The group climbed out of the van and entered the lobby of the shop. The interior was a stark contrast to the rough exterior, boasting an opulence that took them by surprise. Rich, dark wood paneling adorned the walls, while plush leather chairs and sofas invited them to sit. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the marble floors. The place screamed luxury.

As they entered, a well-dressed staff member greeted them with a courteous smile, while Kevin left through the lift following nods from the staffs. "Good evening, gentlemen. May I offer you something to drink while you wait?"

Butcher looked around, clearly impressed despite himself. He had never gone too well with all the luxury and all. "Yeah, sure. Got any whiskey?"

The staff member smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid we only have non-alcoholic beverages in the lobby. Perhaps a juice or a soft drink?"

Butcher scowled but nodded. "Fine, whatever."

Hughie took in the lavish surroundings with wide eyes. "This place is incredible," he muttered dazedly.

Frenchie accepted a drink from one of the staff, his eyes scanning the room as he looked at the glass. "Nice indeed," he muttered, taking a sip. It was quite different from anything. But it did raced his body better. "Butcher, you think Kevin owns this place?"

Butcher took a sip of his own drink and immediately grimaced. "What the fuck is this, juice? No booze?"

Frenchie chuckled softly. "Calm down, Butcher. Orange juice. It's just juice."

Butcher scowled and set his drink aside. "Juice. Fucking hell."

They settled into the leather chairs. Frenchie's eyes narrowed as he studied one of the posters on the wall. It depicted a sleek hypercar with a caption boasting it as the fastest car in the world.

"Wait a minute," Frenchie muttered, leaning closer to Butcher. "I knew I recognized Kevin from somewhere."

Butcher raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Where from?"

Frenchie glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard, then lowered his voice. "The boy's a genius of the highest caliber. This shop—Kevin's shop—makes the best custom cars in the entire world."

Hughie, who had been listening in, looked intrigued all of a sudden. "Seriously?"

Frenchie nodded, pointing to the poster with an awed look. "That car there, it's the fastest car in the world. It can reach 400 kilometers per hour."

Butcher's eyes lightened slightly. "That's... what, around 250 miles per hour?"

Frenchie nodded. "Oui. And there are only three cars in the world of that model. One's with the royal family of Saudi Arabia, one's with Kevin, and the third... who knows where it is."

Hughie whistled softly. "Damn. So he's more than just some guy who showed up out of nowhere."

Butcher leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked around the room. "Well, well, well. Our Kevin's full of surprises, isn't he?"

Frenchie grinned. "Indeed. We're dealing with someone who knows his shit."

"That we are. Look at that galvanized steel all around. Pretty sure, put there because of Homelander." Butcher commented as he looked around. The steel was most probably Galvanic Steel. He wasn't sure, but he could bet on it. With Zinc on it, Homelander could probably not see through it.

Kevin returned a few minutes later. His voice was more relaxed and his face seemed to brighter than before. Perhaps, he washed his face, Hughie guessed. But then again, he too wanted to do the same. He was also carrying a bag. "Sorry about the wait. Had to take care of some business."

Butcher stood up, his smirk now more pronounced. "No worries, mate. Frenchie was just telling us all about your little hobby." He clapped Kevin on the shoulder.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what did he say?" He asked with crossed hands.

Frenchie clapped him on the shoulder. "Just that you're a fucking genius, Kevin. Best custom cars in the world, eh?"

Kevin shrugged without a care. "Just a side project. Keeps me busy. There's always more money to make."

Hughie looked at Kevin with newfound respect in his eyes. He was probably the only person other than him who seemed to be the morally better ones. "So you really own this place?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah. Helps to have a base of operations." He walked out of his shop alongside them.

As they made their way back to the van, Butcher couldn't help but chuckle. "Juice and all, eh? Guess we picked the right guy for the job."

"Focus on Translucent. Also, keep this." Kevin replied with a smirk as he took out some headsets from his pocket.

They drove through the city, the van's engine a steady hum as Frenchie expertly navigated the busy streets of New York. Kevin, meanwhile worked with the laptop. The van eventually left the bustling traffic signal and headed towards the quieter outskirts of the city.

"Translucent's signal is successfully taken care of," Kevin spoke through the wireless earphone.

"How?" Butcher's voice crackled through the earpiece. His voice was completely laced with curiosity though.

"For the next few days, Translucent's signal will move around the city as if he's walking or just going on with his life," Kevin slowly explained. "The signal history will repeat itself from last night and continue until I stop it. I've modified it so it won't head back to Vought headquarters, but it'll visit the usual spots Translucent frequents."

Butcher let out a low whistle from his side. "Clever. Vought gonna catch on?"

Kevin chuckled. "Vought might be the best, but I've already rigged their systems. They won't notice a thing."

Frenchie glanced at Kevin through the rearview mirror. "How the hell did you manage that?"

Kevin smirked, his eyes never leaving the laptop screen. It was one hell of a gamble, but it had paid off heavily. "Some secrets are better kept as secrets, Frenchie."

Hughie looked impressed from Kevin's side. He had moved to Frenchie's van. They had moved Translucent to the van in the meantime. Hughie was with the taser while Kevin sat to provide backup.

"So, they really won't know anything's up?" Hughie asked curiously. He recognised some parts of the software, but most was alien even to him.

"Not a chance," Kevin replied confidently as he took a look at their sleeping guest. "I've covered all the bases. Their system will think everything's normal."

Butcher's voice suddenly came through the earpiece again. "Alright, boys. Let's get set up. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

Frenchie parked the van outside an unassuming building.

"Welcome to the hideout," Frenchie said with a grin. "Make yourselves at home."

Kevin watched silently as Butcher and Hughie argued.

"Hughie, you can't back out now," Butcher said slowly. His voice was low and insistent as he looked at Hughie. "This is our chance. You don't wanna live your life regretting that you didn't take it."

Hughie looked pale and shaken by now. His hands were shaking slightly. "But killing him, Butcher? I don't know if I can do that. It's... it's murder."

Butcher scoffed. "Murder? This ain't just any bloke. It's Translucent. He's seen our faces, knows who we are. You think he's gonna just forget all that? You need to toughen up. You can't avenge Robin if you're a smear on the curb."

Hughie swallowed hard, his eyes darting between Butcher and the rest of the group. "I just... I don't know if I can live with myself. I am not a murderer."

"Well, good for you. I am." Butcher replied with a nod.

Kevin kept his eyes on the C4 bomb that Frenchie was preparing. Frenchie's hands moved deftly, wrapping the explosive in duct tape, his focus absolute. Kevin had seen plenty of makeshift bombs in his time. However, he had never seen someone work so articulate and on high at the same time.

Butcher stepped closer to Hughie, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen, mate. You walk away from this, and you'll always wonder what if. What if you had the guts to take control, to strike back. You don't wanna be the guy who couldn't pull the trigger when it mattered most."

Frenchie interrupted the moment, holding up the C4 bomb. "It's ready," he said, his voice matter-of-fact. "Just gotta, uh, insert it."

Butcher turned to Hughie. "You heard the man. Are you in or out?"

Hughie took a deep breath, his resolve hardening as he clenched his fists. "I'm in," he said quietly with gritted teeth.

Butcher clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Now let's get this done."