Ye Mo lifted his foot and stepped onto the second step. The cement surface was a bit rough, and his shoes made a slight scraping sound. He stopped, took off his glasses, and slowly wiped the dust off the lenses with his fingertips. This action was captured by several cameras, and the footage was immediately uploaded to the live streaming pages of various platforms.
He put his glasses back on and scanned the crowd with his gaze.
"I'm not here to declare victory."
The square fell silent for a moment after those words were spoken. Some people who had been holding up their phones to record the speech hesitated, their fingers hovering over the record button. A woman in red in the front row opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.
Ye Mo continued, "At this time yesterday, I was lifting a steel bar on the third basement level. A pregnant woman and two children were trapped underneath. It took us forty minutes to pull them out. No one took pictures then, and no one called me Mr. X."
He paused for a moment, "The real line of defense isn't the armor, nor Mjolnir. It's the volunteer handing out water at three in the morning, the neighbor carrying an elderly person up the stairs, and the owner of that little shop on the corner that could have closed but still kept cooking hot soup."
Several people in the crowd nodded, and a man wearing a hat quietly wiped the corner of his eye.
" The Avengers did fight, they bled. But do you know why they were able to hold on?" Ye Mo raised his voice slightly, "Because they saw this city hadn't fallen. You didn't run, you didn't hide, you just held on."
A voice called out from the back row, "Where were you before?"
This problem had been anticipated. Ye Mo didn't avoid the question, looking directly in the direction of the voice, "I'm defusing the bomb's fuse in the B4 parking lot. There are three wires; cutting the wrong one will cause it to explode. I'm not wearing my armor; I only have a pair of electrician's pliers."
He stopped after he finished speaking, offering neither explanation nor defense. No one responded, and the atmosphere became even more tense.
"Heroes don't just appear out of nowhere," he continued. "They choose to stay where no one is watching. It's that simple."
A little boy in the front row looked up at his mother and whispered, "Mom, is he a good person?"
His mother replied softly, "You see, when he speaks, his eyes are always on everyone. Liars don't do that."
The applause started from the left. An elderly woman with a cane stood up and clapped her hands vigorously. The young man next to her also stood up, and then more people joined in. The camera panned across the room, and many people had tears in their eyes.
Just then, a man walked up from the right aisle. He was wearing a dark suit with a silver-gray badge pinned to his chest. He walked to the microphone, did not introduce himself, but simply nodded to Ye Mo.
Ye Mo recognized him. Chen Licheng, Deputy Director of the Crisis Response Division of the Department of Homeland Security. He had met him twice at post-disaster coordination meetings. He was a man of few words but reliable in his work.
Chen Licheng took the microphone. "Today, we're not here to bestow titles," he said calmly. "We're here to acknowledge a fact— Mr. X's existence is already a part of this city."
He announced that, following an emergency resolution by the Joint Council, " Mr. X " was granted special observer status, included in the National Emergency Response Registry, and invited to serve as a security advisor for "Urban Resilience Building".
An uproar erupted from the audience. Some reporters immediately opened their notebooks and began frantically writing, while others pulled out encrypted communicators and started sending messages.
"This isn't about co-opting," Chen Licheng added. "It's about the government acknowledging the value of civilian forces. When disaster strikes, we need more than just institutional responses; we need people like Mr. X who can make judgments and take action immediately."
After he finished speaking, he looked at Ye Mo.
Ye Mo stepped forward and reached out to grasp the other person's hand.
"I'll be at the meeting," he said.
There was initial silence from the audience, followed by laughter and applause. Some said the answer was too assertive, while others said this was the true mark of a low-key big shot.
Chen Licheng nodded, turned and left the podium. He didn't say a word more or make any demands throughout the entire process.
Ye Mo remained on stage, not leaving immediately. He knew the main event wasn't over yet.
"This identity isn't a medal," he said into the microphone, "It's a reminder. A reminder that I need to prepare faster before the next disaster strikes."
After saying that, he turned and walked down the steps. The hem of his trench coat swayed gently with each step.
He didn't walk towards the prepared car. Instead, he walked along the pedestrian path in the center of the square. As he approached, the security personnel on both sides of the cordon silently made way for him. The reporters stopped rushing up to ask questions and simply followed him from a distance, taking pictures.
Suddenly, a little boy emerged from the crowd, holding a flag. It was made of black cloth, with slightly rough edges, and had a spiral shape drawn in silver thread on it, along with a pair of outstretched wings.
"Here you go!" The child shoved the flag into his hand. "I drew it last night! My sister said you're the guardian, so I drew a guardian symbol!"
Ye Mo took the flag, looked at it, and gently patted the child's shoulder. "Thanks, brother, this design is good."
The child grinned and was pulled back into the crowd by his mother.
Ye Mo folded the flag and put it in the outside pocket of his trench coat. Inside was also the little girl's hand-drawn card. The two pieces of paper were pasted together, one from gratitude and the other from trust.
He continued walking. The sun shone warmly on his shoulders. A nurse at the makeshift medical station by the square waved to him, and he nodded in response.
A supply truck was unloading goods in the distance. Several volunteers in orange vests were moving boxes. One of them looked up, saw him, paused for a moment, and then shouted, "Hey! Mr. X! We need help here!"
Ye Mo didn't stop walking and turned directly over there.
"I'll do it," he said.
He rolled up his sleeves, squatted down, and picked up a case of water. The case was labeled "Drinking Water, Children First." He hoisted it onto his shoulder and headed towards the tent area.
A female reporter caught up with him a few steps down the street, then hesitated before speaking, "Um... you were just officially verified, and now you're personally carrying goods?"
Ye Mo stopped and glanced at her. "Certifications can't put food on the table. When people are thirsty, they need to drink water. It has nothing to do with who gets the certifications."
Those around laughed. Someone took a picture of the scene and posted it online with the caption. " Mr. X's first official assignment: moving bottled water."
He put the box down and was about to carry it a second time when something in his pocket suddenly became hot.
It's that fragment of Vibranium.
Without making a sound, he put his hands in his pockets, his fingertips touching the metal surface. The temperature was much higher than before, as if an electric current had just been applied.
He frowned, but didn't take it out to look. He just stood there, his gaze sweeping across the perimeter of the square.
There was a black SUV parked over there, its windows heavily tinted. The engine was still running, and the taillights were on. Just as he looked over, the car slowly started, drove over the gravel road, and left the square.
Ye Mo stared in the direction it left until its figure disappeared around the street corner.
He looked away and glanced down at the empty box in his hand.
The next second, he bent down, picked up another one, and hoisted it onto his shoulder.
"Another case, please," he said.