Several people stared at each other, their eyes wide open, in front of a small, square table covered in patina.
Oh right, what should we call ourselves?
A prestigious title holds an inexplicable allure for any superhuman who has just emerged from the era of working alone.
Hal tossed the half-eaten onion ring into his mouth and cleared his throat first.
"Since we're going to build a top-tier rapid reaction force on Earth, its name naturally needs to be professional enough and have a deterrent effect."
Hal twirled the Green Lantern Ring on his finger, then confidently surveyed the crowd.
How about calling it the ' Green Lantern Corps Strategic Patrol Squadron in the Solar System '?
Barry was the first to roll his eyes. "What a terrible name! Why don't you just call it the Green Lantern Corps ' Earth Office? I can already picture the black lady who'll ask me to fill out a form when I walk in!"
"What an errand boy who doesn't know how to appreciate things." Hal curled his lip and shifted his posture. "How about we change it to ' Howling Commandos '? What do you guys think?"
Barry waved his hands repeatedly, still chewing on some roasted meat.
"Come on, buddy, I have a feeling there might be some copyright risk involved."
He quickly stuffed the tortilla into his stomach, wiped his mouth, and enthusiastically raised his hands.
"In my opinion, our name needs to be more approachable and accurately convey our core strengths!"
Barry leaned forward, his voice filled with anticipation.
"The 'Lightning Speed Rescue Team'! I've even thought of a slogan: 'When disaster strikes, we'll arrive at the scene in three seconds, without fail!'"
The air on the table paused for a moment again.
Diana, holding a beer glass, raised an eyebrow and scrutinized Barry and Bal with the look of someone staring at idiots.
"He has no warrior's spirit whatsoever; he sounds like a squid man selling cheap bread on the street."
She placed the cup back on the table, the crisp clinking sound making Barry shrink back.
"Since we are a team formed to protect the Earth, we should be named after the gods and their glory; ' Olympus Avengers' is more fitting for our identity."
Hal sighed. "Come on, lady. It's the 21st century now. Even priests in churches use smartphones. Nobody wants to print ancient mythology on the back of their uniforms."
Everyone had their own opinion, and no one would concede to the other.
Clark sat on a low plastic stool, his hands neatly resting on his knees.
Seeing everyone arguing, he cleared his throat somewhat embarrassedly.
"Um... actually, I think the name doesn't need to be too flashy; a gentler name will make ordinary people feel more at ease."
All eyes immediately turned to Big Super.
Clark scratched the back of his head, hesitated for a long time, and then seriously uttered a few words.
How about calling it the 'Earth Friendship and Mutual Aid Alliance'?
Everyone:...
The table fell into an eerie silence for the second time.
Barry even stopped chewing, and the owner's smooth grilling rhythm in front of the grill paused for a moment.
Is this person serious?
Everyone looked again at the confident Clark.
Was he actually serious?
Chen Mo leaned back in his chair and couldn't help but burst out laughing.
" Clark, why don't you just set up a street stall and sell charity cookies? Add 'Boy Scout' to your name, and you can go door-to-door delivering them during holidays."
Clark choked and looked embarrassed, then chuckled awkwardly as he picked up his water glass and pretended to drink.
Bruce sat with his arms crossed the entire time, observing the utterly unproductive discussion with a cold eye.
A name is merely a convenient code for archiving in encrypted communication channels; what they are called does not change the fact that this group lacks systematic training.
"Stop arguing." Chen Mo casually tossed the empty bamboo skewer onto the table, making a soft clattering sound.
He glanced at the group of men with such different styles in front of him, a playful smile playing on his lips.
"Since you all think you're here to uphold justice and act on behalf of Heaven, why not just be direct and call yourselves the Justice League?"
The moment those four words were uttered, the noisy argument at the table subsided.
Barry blinked, smacked his lips twice, and said, " Justice League... pretty good, huh?"
Diana nodded slightly. "Although it doesn't bear the name of honor, it's far superior to theirs."
Hal shrugged and didn't argue anymore.
Clark nodded repeatedly with a sense of relief, saying he didn't care what it was called as long as they didn't continue to slander his mutual aid alliance.
It passed unanimously by several people.
Bruce's eye, hidden beneath his mask, twitched slightly.
He stared intently at Chen Mo, a sense of absurdity washing over him.
A bizarre individual who readily chops enemies into mincemeat, casually cleans up global Doomsday, and swallows them whole, actually proposes to give this organization the name of "Justice."
Is this guy mocking justice, or does he simply find it amusing?
However, from a certain perspective, although Chen Mo acted recklessly, he did not stand against the world, and even saved the entire planet in the process.
Never mind, as long as he doesn't kill, set fires, or destroy the world, his code name doesn't matter.
Bruce did not object, which was tantamount to acquiescing to the naming.
He reached into his multi-functional tactical belt and pulled out several palm-sized black metal devices, which he neatly pushed onto the greasy table.
They were several tiny, unremarkable, black-bodied communicators covered with an anti-detection coating.
"This is my own independent satellite communication terminal, directly connected to my private satellite without going through any civilian or official network."
Bruce looked at the people around the table.
"Now that the organization has been established, we will maintain regular information exchange. If any disaster occurs again, we can notify each other or request assistance through the communicator."
Clark reached out and took one first, carefully placing it in his palm.
Diana and Hal each took their share.
Barry treated it like a new toy, turning it over and examining it repeatedly, muttering to himself whether it could prevent static electricity.
Finally, Bruce reached out and pushed the last micro-communicator in front of Chen Mo.
The black casing glided across the stained tabletop and came to a steady stop next to Chen Mo's beer glass.
"Of course, I've saved one for you too." Bruce stared into Chen Mo's eyes, his tone revealing no emotion.
Chen Mo glanced down at the small black box, his fingertips twitching slightly.
This thing probably contains a carefully prepared location backdoor by Batman, a biometric data collection module, and maybe even some amazing gadgets whose names we can't even recall.
This Gotham detective can't shake his old habit of always trying to dissect his teammates into a series of weakness statistics.
However, Chen Mo still picked up the metal communicator and put it in his pocket.
He didn't care about such a small trick at all.