The alloy pillar was still creaking, like a spring about to break, pounding on Ye Mo's nerves. He leaned against the wall, his nosebleed had dried, forming a dark red line on his upper lip. The bleeding from his cracked fingers had also stopped, but his fingertips were numb. His Regeneration ability seemed to have been squeezed dry and then forcibly replenished with half a cup of water, barely maintaining its online state.
Pepper lay in the medical pod. The beeping of the monitor had stabilized, and her heart rate line was no longer a lifeless straight line, but rather rose and fell like small hills. However, the sickly green mist on her face had not yet completely dissipated, and the edges of her fingernails still had an eerie bluish-gray tinge.
Ye Mo stared at her face, and suddenly a thought popped into his head.
[System notification: Unresolved viral activity detected in the host contact. Special energy fluctuations are recommended for precise removal.]
"Where were you before?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. "If I had used this technique earlier, I wouldn't have risked my life testing the pulse output."
The system never replies; it never does. It's like a group chat bot that only sends out notifications and then disappears.
Ye Mo closed her eyes and gathered the remaining Regeneration energy into her palm. This thing was usually a rough tool for repairing bones and tendons, but now it had to be turned into an embroidery needle, and it had to be timed perfectly with the virus's breathing rhythm—even a 0.1-second difference could cause her heart to stop.
He pressed his left hand against his wrist, silently counting his pulse. 68 beats per minute, the same as before. Then he recalled the frequency of the ventilation duct vibration: 0.8 Hz, slow and gentle, like an old air conditioner breathing. The two overlapped, and a number popped into his mind: once every 1.3 seconds.
"This is the frequency of the virus's peak," he muttered to himself. "Then let's slap it in the face right now."
He slowly raised his right hand, hovering it two centimeters above Pepper's chest, then stopped touching it. His palm was slightly warm, and a pale golden halo began to ripple outwards, like an oil film ruffled by the wind on the surface of water—not dazzling, but stable.
Every 1.3 seconds, the ripples trembled slightly.
The first wave of energy swept over, Pepper's finger twitched. The blood oxygen level on the monitor jumped two points, from 97% to 99%.
"It works." Ye Mo felt relieved, but he didn't dare to be careless. He knew that this virus was very cunning, hiding in the mitochondria of cells. Normal Regeneration would repair both the person and the virus together, which was equivalent to giving her a stimulant to prolong her life. This move was a reverse oscillation, which specifically dismantles without repairing. It was like combing hair, picking out the dirt from the strands again and again.
He was completely focused, his ears automatically filtering out the noise in the laboratory—the groans of the alloy pillars, the crackling of equipment short-circuiting in the distance, and the dry swallowing sounds in his own throat.
Then, the door opened.
It wasn't the kind of sound where a door explodes and breaks down; it was the sound of carefully pushing open a deformed metal door frame. Then came footsteps, leather boots crunching on broken glass, and the soft clanging of metal instruments.
Ye Mo's right ear twitched suddenly.
The person who came was someone he knew all too well.
Tony Stark is back, carrying a bunch of junk-like parts.
"Don't make a sound." Ye Mo, his voice extremely low. "I'm clearing the virus; even a fart from you could cause her heart to arrhythmia."
Tony paused, his eyes sweeping across the entire medical area. He saw the alloy pillar leaning precariously against the leaking container, green stains all over the floor, and finally, he saw Pepper on the hospital bed—covered in his black hoodie, her face pale, but her chest rising and falling rhythmically.
He swallowed hard but didn't speak. He gently placed the pile of things in his hands by the door, put on data gloves, and silently walked to the foot of the bed. He turned on the holographic screen and brought up the blood test report.
Ye Mo gently tapped his temple with his left index finger.
The system notification "ding" sounded precisely in his mind, at a constant interval of 1.3 seconds. Using this rhythm, he gathered the ripples in his palm into a thin line, golden light condensed, and slowly sank towards Pepper's heart.
In that instant, it was as if she had been put on play.
The bluish-gray color at the edges of my nails began to fade, like snow melting, receding all the way up from the fingertips. My wrists, forearms, necks... and finally even the blood vessels under my eyelids returned to their normal pale pink.
The electrocardiogram on the monitor was completely relaxed, the blood pressure jumped to 98/62, and the blood oxygen stabilized at 99%.
Tony stared at the data stream, his finger rapidly swiping across the holographic screen, confirming it three times before he dared to believe it wasn't a malfunction.
"She... deleted it?" His voice trembled slightly.
Ye Mo didn't answer. The last wisp of golden light in his palm Pepper's skin and then dissipated. His right hand slowly fell, and the suspended posture finally relaxed.
Regeneration energy surplus: 12%.
The cooldown period hasn't come yet, but if I move again, I'll have to lie down.
He looked down at his hands; his fingertips were cracked and scabbed over, and there was a green stain on his cuff, like a rag that had been used to wipe away mold.
"Cleared," he said. "Not killed, but stripped bare. The viral structure was dismantled by reverse oscillation; what remains is her own cells trying to save themselves."
Tony didn't understand the second half of the sentence, but he understood the first two words.
He strode to the bedside, immediately grasping Pepper's right hand with his left, and gently touched her cheek with his right hand, removing his data glove. The touch was warm, not the cold the Fridge, frozen skin he had felt before.
"Pepper?" he called her name, his voice hoarse. "Can you hear me?"
Pepper's eyelids twitched.
It wasn't a convulsion; it was the natural reaction of someone about to wake up. Her eyelashes fluttered three times, like butterfly wings flapping in the air three times.
Then, she opened her eyes.
Her vision was initially blurry, then focused on the overhead light, the glow blurred by her tears. She blinked, and tears rolled down her cheeks, sliding into her hair.
Then, she turned her head.
First, you see Tony's face.
He had a stubble beard, bloodshot eyes, and chapped lips, but the corners of his mouth were uncontrollably turning upwards.
"You're awake," he said, his voice as soft as if afraid of waking someone from a dream.
She didn't speak, but the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
That was her most classic smile—a restrained, executive-manager smile, just the right amount to convey, "I know you're here, and I'm fine."
Then her gaze slowly shifted to the left.
Ye Mo was still kneeling by the bed, his upper body slightly leaning forward, his right hand just withdrawn and hanging down on his knee. The black hoodie was draped over her, the collar brushing against her chin.
Her gaze lingered on his face.
Just as her fingers unconsciously tried to lift up, Ye Mo moved.
He turned his right hand over, not to grasp it, but to lightly touch the back of her hand with the back of his fingers, as if reminding her "I'm still here," or as if stopping her from moving around.
The movements were so fast they were almost invisible.
But Tony saw it.
He understood then—the person who had saved her earlier hadn't just talked.
Pepper's lips moved, but no sound came out; however, the corners of her eyes curved slightly.
There was a few seconds of silence between the three of them.
There were no cheers, no hugs, and no one even spoke.
Only the beeping of the monitor could be heard, like the pendulum of a clock ending a countdown.
Ye Mo took a deep breath, a dull pain shooting through his ribs, as if someone were slowly sawing inside. He didn't show it, but simply leaned his left arm against the Steel Bone Transformation part behind him to support his body.
Tony's other hand was still swiping the holographic screen, quickly flipping through the subsequent test items: liver function, kidney function, nervous system reflexes... each item was fluctuating within the normal range.
"Viral markers are at zero," he murmured. "The immune system is beginning to repair itself... God, she really survived."
Ye Mo didn't reply.
He looked into Pepper's eyes and knew she was awake, and that she was too exhausted to say a word. He felt the same way.
But his mind didn't stop.
He knew that the calm in this scene was as thin as a layer of ice.
The outer container was still leaking. Although the green mist was temporarily blocked by the alloy pillars, the support could break completely at any moment. The communication channels remained silent, like a graveyard. Killian was not dead, and Extremis Project had not stopped.
But now, at least one person has survived.
He glanced down at his cuff, which was stained with green, then looked up at the hospital bed.
Pepper's gaze moved slowly between the two of them, finally settling on Tony's face, where she nodded slightly.
Tony immediately replied, "I'm here, I've always been here."
She then looked at Ye Mo.
He didn't speak, but winked at her, made an exaggerated "receive money" gesture, and mouthed clearly, "Double pay for the next treatment."
Her eye twitched, and she almost burst out laughing.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Can you please not bring up money right after someone wakes up?"
"Otherwise what?" Ye Mo shrugged. "I'm risking my life by using this card. My Regeneration energy is almost depleted. If you won't reimburse my medical expenses, at least give me a meal, right? The chicken legs in the cafeteria have gone up to eighteen yuan recently."
"Chicken leg?" Tony sneered. "After this is over, I'll treat you to steak, medium-rare, with red wine, plus a test drive of a private armored vehicle."
"Deal." Ye Mo grinned. "But you have to fix this lousy place first. I don't want to get splattered with green liquid and turn into a sauerkraut fish while eating."
The two chatted casually, as if discussing where to go for the weekend.
But their positions remained unchanged— Tony stood on the right side of the bed, holding Pepper's hand tightly; Ye Mo knelt on the left, his right hand hovering in mid-air, ready to deal with any unexpected situation.
Their eyes weren't completely relaxed either; their ears were perked up, listening to every subtle sound in the laboratory.
Pepper watched them quietly.
She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could understand it.
One is a man who would risk his life for her, and the other is a friend who is willing to fight to the very end for her.
She slowly raised her left hand, not to grab anyone, but to gently place it on the black hoodie covering her, her fingertips rubbing the fabric.
Those were Ye Mo's clothes.
She didn't speak, but there was something more to her eyes.
Ye Mo noticed her movements, but didn't ask any questions. He simply moved his left hand behind his back to confirm that the Steel Bone Transformation was still in effect.
He cannot fall yet.
There are countless Extremis Soldier waiting outside, and no one knows what Killian's next move will be.
But now, at least one person has opened their eyes.
That's enough.
The alloy column squeaked again.
This time, it's longer and sharper than before.
Ye Mo's ears twitched, and his gaze swept towards the experimental area.
The green mist was still drifting, but it didn't spread.
He didn't move.
He had to stay here until Tony was sure Pepper was completely stable, until they could leave together.
He leaned against the wall, adjusted his posture, and allowed the Steel Bone left arm to better support his body.
Then he said softly, "Don't rush, it'll be your turn soon."
The words were addressed to Alloy Pillar, and also to the enemy who had not yet arrived.