"Is that so?"
A cold, level voice suddenly sounded behind them, cutting through all the noisy cheers.
Billy and Freddy turned around at the same time.
In the sunlight, an Asian man in a dark suit was slowly climbing the steps, carrying a briefcase.
The crowd around him was dense, but strangely, with every step he took, the people ahead of him involuntarily parted to either side, as though an invisible wall were pushing them away.
Freddy's eyes instantly went wide.
"Oh my God! It's you!" Freddy waved his crutch excitedly. "The Black Medical Hero who knows Chinese kung fu!"
Yang Ming ignored Freddy.
He reached the top of the steps and stopped in front of Billy.
He stood six feet one, with the cold demeanor of someone who had spent years walking the line between life and death.
Even facing Shazam, who now stood nearly six and a half feet tall and bulged with muscle, Yang Ming's presence was every bit as imposing.
More imposing, even.
Billy looked at the man before him. He recognized that face.
The guy who had crippled a football linebacker's arm with one hand by the school's wire fence.
"Yo, Doc." Billy raised his chin, using his current size to look down at Yang Ming, a provocative smile curling his lips.
"What? Here for my autograph? Or to sell your bruise liniment?"
For a moment, the people below the steps fell silent.
Then someone laughed.
"Red Superman's got a point!"
"Doc, why don't you prescribe yourself something first?"
"He's just here to ride the hype, isn't he?"
The crowd held up their phones, every camera pointed at Yang Ming. A few young people raised T-shirts printed with lightning emblems and waved them at him.
But the smile slowly disappeared from Freddy's face.
Leaning on