He nods. "And you have proof, I assume?"

She makes a thumbdrive appear between her fingers.

"Footage of the whole operation. I also have their bodies in storage — except for Crawler, who I chose to completely disintegrate," she explains.

The camera angle is such that the floating brain regions are not visible. With how quickly she plows through people, it's plausible that the bodies are being teleported away.

He nods.

"I'm sure this will be sufficient, but it will take us a little while to verify," he explains. For one thing, PRT policy requires confirmation from the central office to release funds for this, to prevent a Master from just walking away with the cash.

"Do you know how you'd like the bounty payout?" he asks. "We can do cash, but we can also do a bank account in your name, if that's more convenient."

She slides a detailed list across the counter.

"I would like one dollar in a bank account in my name, please," she says. "And the rest donated to various charities and individuals, in the amounts listed here."

He quickly scans the list.

"This is mostly medical charities and short-term disaster relief," he summarizes. "You don't have to answer this, but ... why? Most people would not be so generous."

"As I told your compatriots at the Brockton branch — I am actually, genuinely here to help. I come from a world that is much, much richer and safer than Earth Bet, and I want to bring that here."

She leans forward.

"And I get that my capabilities are frightening. I get that most of the surprises that have happened since the appearance of Parahumans have been bad. But I'm not going to let that stop me. I will do my best to help everyone — by their standards."

She sits back.

"Unfortunately, just giving direct aid to people hasn't been working, because if there's not a paper trail, people get suspicious. Hence: directing some traceable money, from a known source, to the places where it will help the most."

"It's definitely an aim that I can appreciate," the Director agrees.

He taps his pen on the desk.

"Please don't take this as a criticism — I would have done the same thing in your shoes — but how can you claim to help everyone, and still have killed the Slaughterhouse Nine?"

Zebrawood snorts.

"Watch the section of the video where I talk to Crawler," she replies, tapping the thumbdrive. "And see if that answers your question."

She looks at her wrist, where a watch isn't.

"Well, that's about all I wanted to cover with you."

A stack of papers thumps onto the table.

"There are the other forms you were going to ask me to fill out. Do you have somewhere I can leave the bodies for confirmation?"

He blinks.

"Yes, certainly. Let me show you to our receiving area; you can leave them there."