The Stolen Bag and the Feeling of Helplessness

The setting sun dyed the streets of Queens orange-red. Lin Mo carried his tool bag and strolled slowly home. The repair shop had closed early today; Carlos said he was going to watch his daughter's ballet recital. Before leaving, he had stuffed a handful of candy into Lin Mo's hand, saying, "My little princess made these herself. They're sickeningly sweet."

Inside the tool bag was the microscope Peter had asked him to fix. The boy said the school lab's microscope had broken, and his teacher had put him in charge of repairing it. Otherwise, the science group's project would be delayed. Lin Mo had checked it with his Basic Phasing Ability. The lens was merely loose, nothing troublesome. He planned to finish repairing it tonight and deliver it to Peter first thing tomorrow morning.

As he passed the community park, he saw several children playing soccer on the lawn, their laughter as crisp as wind chimes. Old Martha sat on a bench with her eyes narrowed against the sun. The stray dog called Watch lay across her lap, its tail lazily brushing against her floral pant leg.

"Little Lin, you're back?" Martha looked up, the cigarette between her fingers glowing faintly. "Aunt May said you like her cookies. She told you to come by tonight and pick some up."

"Got it, Mrs. Martha." Lin Mo smiled and nodded, warmth filling his heart. The warmth of the people in this apartment building was his strongest support in this unfamiliar world.

He had barely stepped out of the park when he heard a shrill scream, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, tearing through the evening's peace. "Robbery! Someone stole my bag!"

Lin Mo spun around and saw a man in a black hoodie sprinting away with a brown leather handbag. The strap was pulled taut, like a string about to snap. Behind him was a woman in business attire. One of her high heels had fallen off, and she chased after him barefoot on the asphalt, tears and sweat streaming down her face.

"Stop!" Lin Mo shouted almost instinctively. His body reacted before his brain did, and he took off after him. He had been on the school track team, able to run a hundred meters in under eleven seconds. That was not slow among ordinary people.

But compared to the robber, his speed was practically that of a snail. The robber ran incredibly fast, his legs pumping as if they had springs installed. The handbag swung wildly in his hand, scattering lipstick and tissues along the way. Lin Mo gave it everything he had, yet his legs felt filled with lead. Every step felt like he was running on cotton, and his lungs burned as though someone had stuffed them with scalding wool.

"Stop him! Please, stop him!" The woman's cries grew farther away, thick with despair.

Lin Mo watched helplessly as the robber darted into a narrow alley. He knew that alley well. Its branching paths formed a web, and it was known as Queens' "thieves' paradise." He reached the entrance and abruptly stopped, his heart clutched by an icy hand.

The depths of the alley were pitch-black and reeked of urine. Several homeless men leaned against the walls, watching him blankly without the slightest reaction. Clearly, this sort of thing was commonplace here. Lin Mo knew that chasing inside would be pointless. The robber might even turn around and beat him up. He was just an ordinary person. He did not have Peter's future Spider-Sense, Tony's Iron Man armor, or even a decent weapon. He only had his hands and a wristband whose abilities had yet to unlock.

"Fuck!" Lin Mo slammed his fist into the wall. His knuckles immediately swelled red, making him grimace in pain. That punch was more like a blow against his own helplessness.

He turned and walked back, every step unbearably heavy. The robbed woman was still crouched on the ground crying, her shoulders shaking. A few bystanders had gathered around her. Some were calling the police, while others chatted among themselves, yet no one stepped forward to help her up.

"Are you all right?" Lin Mo approached her, his voice a little hoarse. He wanted to offer her a tissue, only to realize his pockets were emptier than his face.

The woman looked up, her face streaked with tears and her makeup smeared like a tabby cat's. "My wallet... my ID... and my mother's keepsake..." She choked up before she could finish, and tears welled up again.

Lin Mo's heart felt as though it had been pricked by a needle. He remembered losing the only family photo he had when he crossed over. He understood that helplessness and despair better than anyone. "The police will be here soon. They'll find it," he comforted her, though the words felt pale and powerless. He knew better than anyone how overstretched the Queens police force was. In cases like this, nine times out of ten, nothing came of them.

Sure enough, the police car arrived late. Two officers got out, asked a few perfunctory questions, recorded the details, then told the woman to go home and wait for news. "There are too many cases like this," one officer said with a yawn. "The robbers are repeat offenders. Even if we catch them, they get released. It's useless."

The woman walked away in a daze, her shadow stretched long beneath the setting sun, like a leaf that could be blown away at any moment. Lin Mo stood where he was, watching her disappear around the street corner, his chest tight with frustration.

He slowly headed home. The microscope in his tool bag dug painfully into his shoulder. When he passed the twenty-four-hour supermarket, he went inside and bought a bottle of ice water. He gulped it down, the cold liquid flowing through his throat into his stomach, but it could not put out the fire in his heart.

"Well, if it isn't the computer repair kid?" The supermarket owner was a balding middle-aged man, shaking his head at the television. "Something happened again. A bank on the east side of Queens got robbed. They say it was done by someone who can spit fire."

Lin Mo followed his gaze toward the television. The news was showing footage of the burned-out bank, thick smoke billowing like a black dragon. The anchor spoke with fear in her voice. "Police state that the suspect may be a Mutant with the ability to control flames. The suspect is currently at large..."

Lin Mo turned off the television, paid, and left. Mutants, superheroes, supervillains... this world was full of extraordinary people. Only he was an outsider, still stuck at the level of an "ordinary person." His Basic Phasing Ability could only be used to fix things and pick locks. In the face of real danger, it was useless as shit.

Back in the basement, Lin Mo threw himself onto the air mattress and stared blankly at the mold stains on the ceiling. The wristband rested silently against his skin without the slightest response. The countdown on it continued to tick stubbornly: 358 days, 16 hours.

Another 358 days before he could obtain his first superpower. How many more situations like today would he encounter during those 358 days? How many people would be hurt because of his helplessness?

He suddenly sat up and took the microscope from his tool bag, but he had no mood to repair it. He looked at his hands. These hands could fix precise circuit boards and dismantle complex machinery, yet they could not even stop a single robber. He remembered Tony Stark soaring through the skies in his armor, remembered Peter's future figure swinging between skyscrapers, and suddenly found it all unbearably ironic.

"Why me?" Lin Mo growled at the wristband, his voice full of anger and unwillingness. "If you gave me a system, why not give me abilities sooner? Are you going to watch me get bullied like an idiot?"

The wristband still gave no response, cold as a stone.

Lin Mo collapsed back down and stared at the secondhand television. It was replaying a report about Iron Man saving a crashing plane. Tony Stark, dressed in gleaming armor, accepted the crowd's cheers and applause like a true savior.

"What's so great about that..." Lin Mo muttered, though his heart was full of envy. He did not envy Tony's fame or wealth. He envied his ability to protect others.

Just then, Ted's humming drifted over from next door, broken and intermittent. It was some ancient rock song. Lin Mo suddenly remembered what Ted had once said: a former coworker at his factory had seen a robber committing a robbery and stepped in to stop him. He got stabbed three times and was still lying in the hospital, with no one looking after him.

"Stick your nose into other people's business and die for it. Serves you right." That was what Ted had said at the time. Lin Mo had thought he was cold-blooded, but now he understood him a little. In this world, kindness and courage could sometimes really get you killed.

But Lin Mo could not do that. He could not forget the despair in that woman's eyes, the way her voice caught when she mentioned her "mother's keepsake," or the rage of clenching his fists while being unable to do anything.

That night, Lin Mo suffered insomnia for the first time. He lay in the darkness, listening to the wind outside the window, replaying everything that had happened today over and over. He remembered a saying he had seen before crossing over: "Do your utmost within the limits of your ability, and that makes you a hero."

But the limits of his ability were far too narrow now. So narrow that he could not even stop a robber.

At three in the morning, Lin Mo finally fell asleep, only to have a nightmare. In the dream, he returned to that evening and saw the robber steal the woman's bag. He tried to chase him, only to find his legs chained in iron. He could only watch as the robber ran farther away. The woman crouched on the ground crying. He wanted to comfort her, but found that he could not make a sound. Then the robber suddenly turned around, revealing a vicious face. It was actually Thanos! He wore the Infinity Gauntlet and snapped his fingers at Lin Mo...

Lin Mo jolted awake, cold sweat soaking through his shirt. He gasped for air, his heart hammering wildly. He touched the wristband on his arm. The countdown was still clear: 358 days, 12 hours.

"Please..." Lin Mo said to the wristband, his voice trembling slightly. This was the first time since crossing over that he had set aside all his pride and lowered his head to beg. "When I check in next time, give me an ability that can fight. It doesn't have to be too strong. Just let me run faster or be stronger... at least let me stop watching people get bullied like I did today."

The wristband still gave no response, but Lin Mo seemed to feel a faint warmth, like an illusion, or perhaps an answer.

He lay back down. This time, his heart was much calmer. He knew prayer alone was useless. He had to find a solution himself. He dragged a box out from beneath the bed. It contained parts he had saved up during this time: motors removed from discarded robots, batteries taken from old phones, as well as wires and gears.

"Even without superpowers, I can still do something." Lin Mo muttered, light returning to his eyes. He remembered seeing someone in Huaqiangbei make a simple booster with motors. Perhaps he could make one too, at least something that would let him run faster.

He got to work, using his Basic Phasing Ability to precisely cut the parts. No drawings, no measurements, only instinct and memory. Outside, the sky gradually brightened. The first ray of sunlight shone through the small window and fell into his bloodshot eyes like a flickering spark.

At seven in the morning, Lin Mo finally finished a simple leg booster. It was secured with two metal braces, with two small motors mounted on top and connected to a battery and switch. He gave it a try. When he pressed the switch, the motors buzzed and propelled him forward several steps. His speed had indeed increased quite a bit, but it was somewhat hard to control, and he nearly crashed into the wall.

"Still needs improvement." Lin Mo smiled, and all the exhaustion in his eyes vanished.

He removed the booster and placed it in his toolbox, planning to continue studying it tonight. Then he picked up the repaired microscope, carefully wiped it clean, and placed it in his tool bag. He could not delay Peter's project.

As he stepped out of the basement, Lin Mo saw Peter heading to school with a backpack on his back and a sandwich in his hand, eating as he walked. "Brother Lin!" The boy spotted him and waved excitedly. "Did you fix the microscope?"

"It's fixed. I'll bring it to you tonight," Lin Mo said with a smile.

"That's great!" Peter's eyes lit up. "Our science group can keep working on the project. Thanks, Brother Lin!" He skipped away like a happy little rabbit.

Watching his back, Lin Mo suddenly felt a warm current rise in his heart. He remembered his prayer last night. Perhaps ability was not only meant for fighting. It was also for protecting children like Peter, protecting their dreams and happiness.

He quickened his pace toward the repair shop. Sunlight fell over him, warm and comforting. When he passed the place where yesterday's robbery had happened, there was still a faint bloodstain on the ground—probably from when the woman fell. A cleaner was sweeping nearby.

"You saw what happened yesterday, kid?" The cleaner was a white-haired old man. He sighed. "Times aren't peaceful these days."

"It'll get better," Lin Mo said, unsure whether he was comforting the old man or himself.

The old man smiled but said nothing, only silently sweeping the trash from the ground.