[Zhongyingmei] After Chaoying killed me

The orphanage far away from the urban area was full of laughter on weekends. Wyatt stood under the tree, watching the children playing in the yard from a distance, and the corners of his mouth turned up unconsciously.

He has recalled everything that has happened to him in the past 25 years.

I grew up in this orphanage. In order to hide my specialness, I avoided everyone's closeness. Ms. Jones' gentle companionship and teaching was my only light—it was her who kept me from going astray, from being lonely and lonely. autistic person.

The recovery of memory made Wyatt feel as if it was yesterday, and it seemed like years—it is true that he hasn't come back to see Ms. Jones for a long time.

Ms. Jones was standing by the yard at this moment.

Wyatt wanted to go up to say hello, but for some reason, the sound of his heartbeat seemed to be beating on his eardrums, thumping, and an invisible force prevented him from moving forward.

Am I... afraid?

afraid of what?

Wyatt was a little confused. He could only stand there motionless at this moment, looking at Ms. Jones from afar.

She still looked the same, with her hair combed meticulously, her back straight, and she looked at the children in the yard seriously, but her expression revealed tenderness.

It's just that she was no longer the young lady in Wyatt's memory. Fine wrinkles crept up the corners of her eyes, and her temples were also stained with white.

Perhaps feeling the line of sight, Ms. Jones looked over here.

"—Wyatt?"

She recognized Wyatt, shouted from afar and came over.

Wyatt, who was suddenly shouted, shrank his pupils. He restrained his strong desire to turn around and run away, stopped his back steps, and put on a stiff and standard smile.

"...Ms. Jones." Wyatt greeted.

Ms. Jones stood in front of Wyatt. The child was taller than her now. She looked nostalgic, looked at Wyatt with bright eyes, and patted him on the shoulder.

"I've grown a lot taller." She said with relief. Facing the grown-up Wyatt, her expression was no longer harsh, only tenderness and kindness remained.

It is her greatest wish that this child grow up safely.

Wyatt took advantage of the situation and bent slightly, hugging the no longer young lady in front of him.

The familiar and friendly smell left behind by the warm sun seemed to instantly break through the sense of fear and barrier in Wyatt's heart.

"--Mother."

Involuntarily, Wyatt softly called out this title that he had held back in his heart for countless days and nights.

Ms Jones froze the hand that patted Wyatt's back, then dropped it gently.

...this child.

Wyatt stayed in the orphanage for a long time that day. He accompanied Ms. Jones to take care of the children in the orphanage, and talked with her about his life in recent years—everything was going well.

Ms. Jones also mentioned to him that over the years, there has always been a donation from nowhere, which has been remitted every month, and Wyatt just listened with a smile.

As night fell, Wyatt bid farewell to Ms. Jones and drove away. He was still in a very happy mood while sitting in the driver's seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel rhythmically.

But he had to think about one thing.

Why was I so—afraid at first?

The true emotions in the heart cannot be deceived. Wyatt recalled the inner impulse in detail at that time, and his brows could not help frowning.

"System, is my lost memory caused by rebirth?" Wyatt asked.

"Of course not." The system categorically rejected, "You are the first host I have encountered who has lost memory—why do you ask so suddenly?"

"...I was wondering what the hell happened to that memory I lost—"

What happened, let my body have a fighting instinct, let me have inexplicable fear and retreat from meeting Ms. Jones, let Iron Man... kill himself with his own hands.

The system knew what Wyatt was thinking, it paused, and there was helplessness in the voice: "I don't know, you bind the system after death, I can only stimulate your brain to make it work through the rewards given by the main system. Recovering memories—after all, these are the automatic protections that your brain turns on to lose your memory.”

Wyatt frowned and said nothing, but there was no clue about this matter, and he had no way of investigating it.

——Wait a little longer, when the memory recovers a bit, I can put all the clues together and restore the original appearance of the matter.

Suddenly, there was commotion on the street outside the car window, and a man yelled anxiously.

"—stop! Somebody stop that man! Don't run!"

A figure with a hood panicked and overturned several pedestrians and fled forward. The man roared and chased after him.

A thief?

Wyatt frowned. The fleeing figure tripped over the steps on the sidewalk, and a black object fell out of his arms and slid forward.

It's a gun.

Right in front of the man, a gray-haired old man also saw the gun. He and the man who fell on the ground exchanged glances, and the two rushed towards the gun at the same time.

This is a gun with the safety on and the bullets loaded, and there is a possibility of it going off at any time.

"boom--"

The gunshot rang out, and blood gushed out from the old man's abdomen, and the hand he was holding gradually failed to let go, and he fell to the side.

The thief looked at the scene in front of him, his pupils shrunk, and his face was full of panic.

He didn't expect this to happen, he just...he just wanted to steal some money, and he only had a gun for his guts.

But now that things have happened.

He gritted his teeth, put away the gun, and tightened the stack of stolen money in his pocket.

Who cares, this damn old man deserves to die, no wonder he.

The man looked around in fear, gritted his teeth and thought, he continued to run forward, and then found that his limbs were suddenly out of his control.

A huge force that came from nowhere bound his limbs, lifted him up, and then slammed him hard against the wall next to him.

"Yes... who is it?!"

The unknown power frightened him. He looked around in horror, but the gun in his hand had already slipped uncontrollably, and he didn't know where it fell.

More and more people came to watch, and two passers-by with a sense of justice stepped forward and grabbed him with both hands twisted, and the inexplicable force suddenly dissipated, as if it had never happened before.

The slipped gun was hovering in Wyatt's hand at this moment, and he threw it into the corner—pedestrians would not find it, but when the New York Police Department came and sealed off the scene, they would naturally find it exist.

Then he hurriedly called an ambulance.

The bullet in the old man's body didn't hurt him that badly—when Wyatt noticed the movement here, the old man and the thief had already wrestled together, and Wyatt only had time to use his ability when the gunshot fired. Wrap the bullets that shoot out quickly.

Although it was a step late, at least the old man's life was temporarily saved.

Peter also noticed the commotion here.

He was walking aimlessly on the street at first, the quarrel just now made him uneasy, and the way he behaved in a fit of anger afterwards also made him feel a little uneasy about his conscience.

He ran out after a big fight with Uncle Ben.

Today, he mentioned the matter of Fleischer again, but Uncle Ben still had that stern and disapproving attitude.

"Listen, kid." Ben looked at Peter seriously at the time. "You look a lot like your father, really, Peter, and that's a good thing, but your father was a man of conviction and principle."

——He mentioned his father, which suddenly aroused strong dissatisfaction and pain deep in Peter's heart.

Peter has been fostered by Uncle Ben and Aunt May since he was a child, and he has never seen his parents since he was eight years old.

Uncle Ben and Aunt May have treated him very well, and he is very grateful, but the departure of his parents has always been something that Peter cannot understand or let go.

"He thinks that if you can do good things for other people, you have a moral responsibility to do those things — it's not a choice, it's a responsibility."

"With great power comes great responsibility," said Uncle Ben.

But Peter, who was already irritated by the topic of parents, couldn't listen to Uncle Ben's words at all.

These words are very nice, so where is he?Where is my father?Isn't it his responsibility to tell himself these words?

In a fit of anger, Peter slammed the door out. He walked on the street blankly, not knowing where he should go.

He felt a little regretful in his heart—these hurtful words were not his intention, and he shouldn't be so angry with Uncle Ben and Aunt Mei, but he didn't want to go back and apologize so early after he had come out.

He walks into a supermarket to buy a bottle of milk, only to find that he has two cents missing in his haste on the way out.

The shopkeeper sneered at him, then declined his request.

—just two cents.

So he was robbed in the supermarket, and when the owner begged him to help stop the thief, Peter refused.

"I don't have this responsibility." Peter spread his hands, even gloating at the shopkeeper who just mocked him.

He has the ability to catch the thief, but what does it matter to him?

But the next series of developments caught Peter off guard.

There was a loud gunshot from the direction from which the thief was fleeing.

Peter's heart rate began to beat rapidly.

He thought he was just letting go of a thief who stole some money, but he didn't realize that the thief had a gun on him-would anyone be injured or even die?

"Back, back."

In the place surrounded by the crowd, Peter's very familiar voice was shouting loudly, "Someone is injured here, don't come close—is there anyone who will give first aid?"

—Mr. Wyatt?

Why is he here, is anyone hurt?

Relying on his vigorous enough skills, Peter squeezed into the crowd, but saw a scene that made his heart go into cardiac arrest.

Uncle Ben fell to the ground, clutching his blood-stained abdomen, curled up in pain because of the pain.

At this time, Peter had no other people in his eyes. He knelt beside Uncle Ben helplessly, with tears in his eyes.

don't - don't -

I haven't apologized to him yet, it's my fault tonight...

He wanted to help Uncle Ben cover the wound that kept gushing blood, but he was afraid that it would aggravate his injury, so he could only helplessly shout: "Ambulance——has anyone called an ambulance——"

"It's been called, and the ambulance will be here soon." Seeing Peter rushing in, Wyatt realized that he knew the injured old man, so he could only comfort him, "It's okay, Peter, it will be fine."

The ambulance arrived soon, and Peter followed Wyatt in a daze, put Uncle Ben into the ambulance, and then came to the hospital with the ambulance.

Uncle Ben was sent to the emergency operating room, and Wyatt went to the cashier to pay, but his paying hand suddenly stopped.

——I don’t have so much money on me!

He scratched his head, remembering that Peter's family didn't seem to be that rich, and at this time the head of the family was lying in the emergency room.

He hesitated to call Tony.

"what's up?"

Tony even felt a little novelty when he received a call from his small staff for the first time, but at this time he had more important things to do—a new type of armor was about to be developed, and it was at a critical time, which made him seem a little absent-minded.

"——Mr. Stark." Wyatt paused for a moment, and then said, "Can you pay me this month's salary in advance?"

Tony, who was thinking about countless lines on the other end of the phone, paused, his eyes widened in disbelief: "You called me at night to ask for salary?"

"—I mean," and then Tony realized something was wrong, "what happened?"

"Uh, my friend had an accident." Wyatt explained, "He's in the emergency room now, and the money on my card isn't enough for the surgery."

Tony's expression suddenly became serious, and he quickly operated on the light screen at the side: "Jar has sent the money, enough for the best treatment-I can still afford this money."

"Thanks, Tony," Wyatt said gratefully.

After hanging up the phone, Tony did not continue his research.

"Jar, find out what happened," he ordered.

The scene on the street tonight appeared on the light screen, and Tony's warm sugar-colored eyes flickered twice.

——I really didn’t see the wrong person.

After Wyatt paid the fee, he returned to the door of the operating room. Peter was sitting slumped on a chair, covering his head with his hands, trembling all over.

His hands were still stained with Uncle Ben's blood.

He might lose Uncle Ben himself.

This idea appeared in Peter's mind, and then slowly smashed his usual optimism and reason.

"It's my fault," he said, "it's my fault, if I hadn't lost my temper with him today, he wouldn't have run out—I even had the ability to stop that man, I let him go on purpose ,It was my fault."

Wyatt took his hand and wiped off the blood little by little with a wet handkerchief.

"It will be all right." Wyatt said softly, "The murderer has been caught, and he will pay the price he deserves."

Peter nodded.

Uncle Ben's phrase "with great power comes great responsibility" echoed in his ears, and he suddenly understood what he should do.

When Aunt Mei rushed to the hospital after receiving the news, the lights in the operating room were still flashing anxious red.

Her face was still haggard and her eyes were red, but she resisted the pain and thanked Wyatt, and Wyatt also consciously stepped aside, leaving him and Peter alone time.

After an unknown amount of time, the blinking red light changed to green, the door of the operating room opened, and the doctor came out.

The three quickly stood up and greeted them.

"Doctor, how is my uncle—how?" Peter asked in a trembling voice.

The chief surgeon took off his mask: "It's all right, the bullet didn't hit the aorta—it's a miracle that he survived, as long as he misses a little bit, even a god can't save him."

Peter and May, who heard the news, were relieved at the same time. They thanked the doctor gratefully, and followed Ben who was pushed out of the operating room by the nurse and sent to the ward.

"Mr. Wyatt." Peter stopped suddenly and bowed solemnly to Wyatt, "Thank you."

Wyatt rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's fine."

The author has something to say:

In the end, I decided to save Uncle Ben, my colleagues, isn’t it just a picture of HE!