---
Susan's voice trembled with fear as she gripped Lin Feng's arm, her wide eyes reflecting desperation. "I... I don't want to die young. If something happens to me, my mother will be devastated…"
Lin Feng remained calm, his voice steady. "Just call me Lin," he said flatly.
He paused, then added, "If this is related to Stark Industries' weapons... maybe I can help."
A flicker of hope lit Susan's face. Lin Feng's connection to Tony Stark—rumored or not—was more than she'd dared hope for. If he had even a thread of influence with the billionaire inventor, it might be enough to keep her alive.
"You mean it? Lin, can you really help me?!" she gasped, her voice rising in urgency. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his, clinging to him like a lifeline. Her red-rimmed eyes searched his face, desperate for assurance.
Lin Feng was caught completely off guard.
He coughed, awkwardly pulling away. "Alright, alright. Let go first! Geez…"
He muttered under his breath. "Is this reporter so predictable? What are they feeding you people these days? Even Superman would buckle under that kind of sneak attack…"
Susan realized how tightly she had latched onto him and blushed furiously, pulling her arms back. "Sorry… I didn't mean to—it was just instinct," she stammered, flustered.
Lin Feng exhaled, relieved, and resumed his explanation. "I'm on decent terms with Tony. He has a press conference scheduled for tomorrow morning. I'll talk to him afterward and see what I can do about your situation."
She blinked at him, unsure whether to cry or cheer.
"In the meantime," Lin continued, "you can stay here. Pick any guest room on the first floor. The fridge is stocked—if you're hungry, help yourself. Or order takeout if cooking's not your thing."
Susan perked up. "Actually, I can cook," she said brightly, a glimmer of pride returning to her eyes. "I aced home economics in college."
"Great," Lin replied with a nod. "Go clean up and get some rest, then. You've had a rough day."
He turned toward the kitchen, but not before tossing her a warning. "And don't go snooping around Gray Street anymore. You're brave, but you're not bulletproof. This kind of work? It can get you killed. I won't always be around to pull you out of the fire."
"I get it," Susan mumbled, then glared as she added, "And stop calling me 'little reporter'!"
"You just graduated. That's literally what you are," Lin shot back, smirking.
Susan pouted, then stomped toward the hallway to choose a room. "Straight-up caveman," she muttered.
Lin chuckled and shook his head. "A rookie journalist… unbelievable."
As he picked up the teacups left on the table, Susan peeked out from the hallway.
"Lin?" she called softly.
He turned.
"Thank you…"
Before he could respond, she ducked into the room and shut the door with a quiet click.
Lin stood for a moment, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was the first time he'd ever gone out of his way to save someone who wasn't a billionaire in a metal suit. It didn't feel half bad.
After cleaning up, he took a quick shower and stretched out on the couch. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.
---
Across town, deep within a high-security S.H.I.E.L.D. operations center, Director Nick Fury sat hunched over a dimly lit desk, his one good eye narrowed as he reviewed footage from the Stark Industries incident.
The screen displayed the moment Lin Feng had punched Obadiah Stane and sent him flying like a ragdoll across the rooftop.
"Estimate?" Fury asked grimly.
"Minimum ten tons of force," Coulson replied, arms folded, fatigue etched in his features. "Could be much more. No known enhancement tech explains that kind of impact… and the guy flies."
Fury scowled. "I can see that, Coulson. I do still have one eye."
He leaned back in his chair, already nursing a migraine. The last few days had been a mess—Tony Stark's kidnapping, his improvised escape suit, the Ten Rings situation, and now this… mystery man with power rivaling a heavy-class superhuman.
"And now he's chummy with Stark?" Fury muttered, flipping to the next surveillance angle. "As if I didn't already have enough headaches."
Coulson glanced at his tablet. "According to the logs, Lin Feng received a call from J.A.R.V.I.S. this morning. It's likely he'll attend the press conference."
Fury tapped his fingers on the desk. "Fine. Bring a couple agents. After the event, approach him carefully. I want a read—see if he's the kind of asset we can bring into the fold. And raise his clearance level. We're going to need more eyes on him."
---
The next morning, Lin Feng refused Susan's hopeful request to tag along and instead took Tony's R8 to the conference by himself. Flying was out of the question—too many eyes, too many cameras. It wasn't like nighttime, where his black suit made him nearly invisible in the shadows.
Inside the staging area of the conference, Pepper Potts was busy brushing foundation across Tony's bruised cheekbones.
"Hold still," she said.
Tony sighed and shot her a crooked smile. "You know, if this makeup gig doesn't work out, you could always become a magician."
"Don't tempt me," Pepper replied, brushing powder under his jawline.
Meanwhile, Agent Coulson hovered nearby, briefing Tony on the alibi S.H.I.E.L.D. had fabricated for him.
"You were on your yacht all night. Fifty guests, sworn testimonies, port records—all airtight."
Tony flipped through the script and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but I'd rather it just be me and Pepper on that yacht."
"That's not in the report," Coulson deadpanned.
"And what about Lin Feng?" Tony asked, glancing sideways. "The guy who punched a hole through Obadiah?"
"We've got him listed as your personal bodyguard."
"You're joking, right? No one's going to buy that. The guy could bench-press a tank."
Coulson smiled faintly. "Reporters will believe what you give them—especially when the story's wrapped in a Stark Industries press badge."
"You guys are terrifying."
"Try not to go off-script."
"No promises," Tony muttered, slipping into his jacket as Pepper adjusted his collar.
Tony strode into the press hall, where dozens of reporters were already swarming, flashes erupting like fireworks. He approached the podium with his usual swagger, adjusted the microphone, and began.
"…Some people speculate that I was involved in the rooftop incident…"
He didn't get far. A blonde reporter from the front row shot up, voice sharp and challenging.
"Mr. Stark, do you really expect us to believe it was a bodyguard in that suit? And what about the man with the strength of a missile launcher? A mutant, perhaps?"
Tony stared her down but kept his cool.
"He's not a mutant," Tony said, voice firm. "And I don't owe you explanations about my friends."
The reporter faltered under Tony's withering gaze, and the room fell silent.
In the back of the room, unnoticed behind a wall of reporters, Lin Feng watched it all unfold, a smile hidden beneath his sunglasses. The scene was more entertaining than he'd expected.
Rhodey leaned toward Tony, whispering, "Stick to the script, man."
Tony hesitated, then looked out at the sea of flashing lights and raised microphones.
He read the opening line from the paper, then paused. The silence stretched.
And then, with a shrug and a devil-may-care grin, Tony Stark tossed the paper aside.
"The truth is…"
He paused again.
"I am Iron Man."
The room exploded. Reporters screamed, cameras flashed, questions flew like bullets. The energy surged through the building as if someone had thrown a live wire into the crowd.
Lin Feng chuckled. Classic Tony.
As chaos erupted, Lin slipped out through the side exit, easily blending into the crowd.
Coulson scanned the room, searching for Lin Feng, but he never saw the young man standing just feet away.
Eventually, the SHIELD team was forced to retreat and regroup. Coulson would later report to Director Fury that their window to approach Lin Feng had collapsed thanks to Stark's bombshell reveal.
But Lin had seen them. All of them.
He casually fingered the black ring on his finger, a recent purchase from the system store.
> Plain Black Ring
Greatly reduces the wearer's presence
Effectiveness exceeds Clark Kent's glasses
Bonus Skill: True Stealth – complete invisibility for 10 minutes every 24 hours. Immune to heat detection, radar, and motion sensors.
It had cost him 300,000 prestige points—a hefty price—but worth every point.
Lin Feng smiled faintly.
Now the real game was beginning.
---