When the ceiling fan in the repair shop let out its countless squeaky groans again, Lin Mo was crouched on the floor, tightening the screws on a server base with a wrench. Sweat ran down his temples and dripped onto the grease-stained floor, spreading into small dark patches. This IBM server had been discarded by the community hospital. It stood nearly waist-high, its metal casing covered in rust, and weighed as much as three toolboxes stuffed with parts.
"Need a hand?" Carlos stood beside the workbench with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, frowning at Lin Mo's thin back. Just yesterday, the kid had complained to Ted that moving a monitor had left his back sore. Yet today, he dared take on this hunk of metal by himself.
Without looking up, Lin Mo gave the wrench a final twist with a click. "It's fine. Almost done." He took a deep breath, gripped the handles on the server, and applied a little force—
"Bzz—" The wheels beneath the server suddenly began to roll. Lin Mo barely had to exert himself before the massive thing, which usually required two burly men to lift, was effortlessly pushed into position. It stopped steadily, without even knocking a single strand of solder wire off the corner of the table.
The cigarette nearly fell from Carlos's mouth. Smoke drifted before his eyes, blurring his vision. "You little..."
Lin Mo stood up, dusted off his hands, and smiled. "Maybe I'm just in good shape today." He did not dare tell the truth, so he could only offer a lame excuse. Ever since he had gained Beast's Physical Enhancement, his synchronization rate had risen to 30%. Forget this server—even that old printer beside it could be lifted one-handed and spun around.
"In good shape?" Carlos walked over and pointed at the server with his cigarette. "This thing weighs four hundred pounds. Do you think it's made of paper?" He suddenly reached out and squeezed Lin Mo's arm. The muscle definition was indeed clearer than before, but nowhere near enough to explain lifting a server. "Seriously, Lin, have you been secretly taking steroids? I know a doctor who can check you for side effects."
"Definitely not." Lin Mo raised his arms and struck an exaggerated muscle pose. "Chinese kung fu. Use four ounces to move a thousand pounds. You get it?" He deliberately emphasized the words "kung fu," his tone teasing.
Carlos snorted and did not press further. He turned to greet a customer at the door, though he kept muttering, "What kind of kung fu can move a four-hundred-pound chunk of metal?" Watching his back, Lin Mo secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily, the old guy had not dug any deeper, or Lin Mo truly would not have known how to explain it.
At ten in the morning, a bespectacled middle-aged man rushed into the repair shop carrying a warped computer desk. Its leg had bent to a ninety-degree angle, and a crack ran across the tabletop. "Sir, can you fix it? My grandfather passed this down to me. I've used it for thirty years." His voice was thick with tears as his fingers gently stroked the scratches on the tabletop, as though comforting an old friend.
Lin Mo took the desk. It was heavier than he had expected. It was made of mahogany, and the carved legs had been worn smooth and glossy over the years. It truly had some age to it. He scanned it with Dynamic Vision. The mortise-and-tenon joints in the leg had not broken; they had merely been knocked out of alignment by an external force. It could theoretically be repaired, but it would take considerable strength to bend it back into place.
"I'll give it a try." Lin Mo placed the desk on the floor, gripped the warped leg with both hands, and took a deep breath. He could feel his muscles tighten slightly as fivefold strength flowed through his arms like a docile stream. Rather than forcing it immediately, he found the point where the force needed to be applied, then gave it a gentle push—
Crack! The sharp sound echoed through the repair shop. The crooked table leg was forcibly bent back into place, and even the crack aligned perfectly. Lin Mo hurriedly took out some glue, squeezed it into the gap, and secured it with clamps. The whole process took less than five minutes.
The bespectacled man stared in stunned silence. His briefcase dropped to the floor with a smack. "H-How did you do that? I hired three movers, and none of them could bend it back!"
"Good luck, I guess." Lin Mo smiled as he wiped the glue off his hands. "Once the glue dries, it'll be usable again. Just remember not to put anything too heavy on it."
The man thanked him profusely. Before leaving, he handed Lin Mo a business card. "I'm a woodworking teacher at the community middle school. If you ever need furniture repaired, come find me anytime. Free of charge!"
Carlos leaned against the doorframe, so distracted that he did not notice his cigarette had nearly burned down to his fingers. "That move you just made was stronger than hydraulic pliers." He walked over and lowered his voice. "When I was young, I hauled cargo at the docks. I've seen real strongmen. Your strength is stranger than theirs."
Lin Mo's heart tightened. Just as he was about to explain, the bell at the door interrupted him. A man in a suit entered carrying a monitor with a sticky note on its screen: "Black screen. Urgent repair."
"Put it here. Come pick it up this afternoon." Lin Mo took the monitor. It felt very light, the latest ultrathin model. Out of habit, he pinched the edge of the frame between his fingers to check the material—
Crack!
The crisp snapping sound instantly silenced the entire repair shop. Lin Mo looked down. He had pinched a hole through the monitor's plastic frame, and fragments littered the floor like shattered glass. The suited man's eyes widened as he pointed at the monitor, unable to speak for a long moment.
"I..." Lin Mo's face instantly turned crimson. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a crack in the floor. He had forgotten to control his strength! Fivefold strength had not even felt sufficient when moving the server, but pinching this plastic frame had been like crushing a cookie.
"Th-This is brand new!" The man finally snapped out of it, his voice trembling. "Ten thousand dollars! My client is waiting to use it!"
Carlos hurried over and patted the man on the shoulder. "Don't get worked up. We'll compensate you. We definitely will." He shot Lin Mo a glare so furious it could have melted solder. "What are you standing around for? Apologize to the customer!"
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Lin Mo bowed repeatedly, cursing this damn Physical Enhancement a thousand times in his heart. "I'll buy you a new one. The exact same model."
The man clearly did not believe him. He folded his arms and stood there, his face full of suspicion. "Can you afford it? This is a professional graphics monitor, not some cheap supermarket junk."
Lin Mo clenched his teeth and pulled out his bank card from the drawer. "I'll go buy one now. Please wait." The card held the savings he had accumulated over half a year. He had originally planned to replace his oscilloscope, but now it seemed he could only compensate for the monitor first.
Carlos suddenly pressed down on his hand and told the man, "I know a distributor. I can get an internal price, twenty percent off. This two thousand dollars will be our compensation." He took a stack of cash from the safe and stuffed it into the man's hands. "Here's half as a deposit. We'll deliver a new one within half an hour."
The man accepted the money, his expression easing slightly. "Fine. I'll wait here."
Lin Mo followed Carlos out of the repair shop, but before he could speak, Carlos cut him off. "What the hell is going on with you?" Carlos kept his voice low, but the disappointment in his eyes hurt more than anger. "I know you want to earn more money, but you can't take it out on a customer's property."
"I really didn't mean to." Lin Mo's voice trembled slightly. "I can't control my strength. It's like... like I suddenly have endless energy." He hesitated before deciding to tell the truth. "Carlos, I haven't taken steroids. It's... ever since that fire, my body suddenly became like this. I don't know why either."
Carlos stared at him for a long time. The cigarette burned out between his fingers, and only when it scorched him did he abruptly fling it away. "Does it have something to do with when you saved Elderly Irene?"
Lin Mo nodded, his heart pounding wildly. He was gambling that Carlos knew something. From those "special parts" to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hard drive, the old guy was clearly not as simple as he appeared.
Carlos suddenly sighed and pulled out his car keys. "Come on. Let's get the monitor." He started the car and watched the streets pass outside the window. Then he suddenly said, "I ran into strange things too when I was young. There was a Black man at the docks who could punch straight through a shipping container. Later, someone in a black suit took him away, and he was never seen again."
Lin Mo's breathing caught. "Someone in a black suit?"
"Yeah. A little like that Phil Coulson who came to fix the hard drive last time." Carlos turned the steering wheel, guiding the car into an alley. "They called people like that 'assets.' Sounds like an object, not a person." He turned his head, his eyes carrying complicated emotions. "Do you want to become an 'asset'?"
Lin Mo shook his head fiercely. "No." He only wanted to fix computers, look after the repair shop, and live a peaceful life with Ted, Peter, and the others. He did not want anyone taking him away.
"Then learn to control your strength." Carlos parked outside an electronics store. "Don't cause any more trouble, especially not enough to attract the attention of those people in black suits."
Watching Carlos walk into the store, Lin Mo suddenly felt that the old guy was more dependable than he had imagined. He touched the wristband on his wrist. At some point, his synchronization rate had risen to 35%, and a new notification appeared below it:
[Skill Unlocked: Power Control (freely adjust output force, precision error ±5%)]
"Finally." Lin Mo breathed a sigh of relief and tried clenching his fist. He could clearly feel the strength flowing through his fingertips, like water from a faucet with a valve that could be turned on and off at will.
When they returned to the repair shop, the new monitor had already been installed. The man was inspecting it, satisfaction on his face. "You'd better be careful this time." He patted Lin Mo on the shoulder. "Don't crush it again."
Lin Mo smiled awkwardly, but he felt much more at ease. With the Power Control skill, he would never have to worry about breaking things again.
That afternoon, Ted suddenly rushed into the repair shop carrying a huge magic trunk. "Mo, help me take a look! The lock on this box is jammed, and I'm performing tomorrow!"
Lin Mo took the magic trunk and used Power Control to set his strength to twenty percent. With a light bend, the latch popped open with a smack. Props spilled out of the box: colorful silk scarves, plastic doves, and a familiar Tin Turkey with a bandage stuck to its wing.
"That's amazing!" Ted excitedly stuffed the props back into the box. "I knew I could count on you! Oh, right—Aunt May made barbecue tonight. She said you absolutely have to come."
"Okay." Lin Mo agreed with a smile, warmth filling his heart.
At the end of the day, Carlos set a stack of bills in front of him. "The money for the monitor. I bargained with the distributor and got it down to thirty percent off. This is what's left."
Lin Mo froze. "Carlos, this..."
"Take it." Carlos stuffed the money into his hand. "Think of it as your 'labor subsidy.'" He paused, and a rare smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "From now on, moving servers is your job."
Lin Mo looked at the money in his hand, then at Carlos's retreating back. Suddenly, the repair shop no longer felt like just a workplace. It felt more like home. There was a nagging yet dependable boss, noisy friends, endless computers to fix, and endless embarrassing mishaps.
When he stepped out of the repair shop, the setting sun had painted the street gold and red. Lin Mo saw Peter, backpack slung over his shoulders, crouching by the roadside to feed a stray cat. The spider in the glass jar poked its head out, curiously surveying the world.
"Brother Lin!" Peter looked up, his eyes lighting up. "Look at the Web-Shooters I made! They can stick to something that weighs ten pounds!"
Lin Mo walked over and gently picked up the Web-Shooters using his newly unlocked Power Control skill, inspecting them carefully. "Not bad. They're much sturdier than last time." He returned them to Peter, then remembered the monitor he had crushed that morning and could not help laughing.
Perhaps Physical Enhancement had indeed brought plenty of trouble, but it had also given him more confidence to protect these warm moments. Whether it was moving servers, repairing computer desks, or accidentally crushing monitors, they were all proof that he truly existed in this world.
Lin Mo touched the wristband on his wrist. The synchronization rate remained steady at 35%, and the checkmark behind Power Control stood out especially clearly. He knew he still had much to learn—not only how to control his strength, but how to preserve ordinary happiness in this world full of unknowns.
Before you continue