Another week passed.
The reconstruction of Yangjibang moved forward with steady momentum. Under the bright sunlight, Shen Yong wore an orange safety helmet as he skillfully controlled the hydraulic arms of an exoskeleton construction machine, lifting a crushed section of maglev rail from a pile of rubble with precise movements.
The bone-deep weakness that had once left him feeling as though he had fallen into an icy abyss had gradually eased over the past few days.
Regular routines and relentless physical labor had produced a small miracle.
His body seemed to be repairing itself—slowly but steadily.
That realization allowed him to breathe a little easier.
When the lunch whistle sounded, Shen Yong jumped down from the cockpit and joined the other workers heading toward the temporary cafeteria.
Although the Dawn Mutual Aid Association was technically a volunteer organization, the powerful financial backing of YAC Group meant every full-time volunteer received compensation far above the industry average.
For many survivors who had lost their jobs in the disaster, this income meant survival.
And it ensured the organization could continue its work.
"Hey, Shen Yong! Did you see today's news?" a young coworker said excitedly while scrolling through his terminal and devouring a nutrition meal. "The EUC released the first prototype weapons from the Titan Project. That orbital cannon—Thunder—they say it can flatten a mountain in one shot!"
"What good is that?" another older worker scoffed. "Back in Dover, didn't we still need our Yangjibang Ultraman to save the day? If you ask me, the EUC should save that money and try cooperating with him instead."
"Exactly! Ultraman is the strongest!"
Their discussion was lively and sincere.
The pride and trust in their voices warmed Shen Yong's heart.
But beneath that warmth lingered a faint bitterness.
This ordinary communal life—the shared labor, the simple meals—gave him a sense of belonging he had never experienced before.
For a while, it allowed him to forget the heavy secret he carried.
Yet every night, when he returned alone to his empty apartment, the exhaustion and the fear of exposure returned like ghosts.
He asked himself the same question again and again:
If another monster appeared…
Would he still have the courage—
And enough life—
To pay the price?
Three days ago, a new unease had begun to haunt him.
It was only a vague instinct.
But he felt as though invisible eyes were watching him.
At first he assumed it was the EUC.
After all, the analyses posted by tokusatsu fans had already constructed a surprisingly accurate "profile" of his possible human identity.
But after several days, he had detected no suspicious vehicles.
No drones.
No disguised agents.
EUC surveillance was sophisticated—but not perfect.
As a former cybersecurity expert, Shen Yong knew he would notice at least something.
That realization chilled him.
Whoever was watching him operated on a level far beyond the EUC.
He began counter-surveillance.
He deliberately changed his commuting routes.
Sometimes he rode a bicycle through the maze-like streets of the city before suddenly stopping at an intersection and checking his mirrors.
Other times he boarded a crowded subway train and stepped out at the last possible second before the doors closed, scanning every face in the opposite window.
Every test ended the same way.
Nothing.
Yet the sensation of being watched clung to him like a parasite.
Eventually, he moved the battlefield online.
Using his skills as a white-hat hacker, he scanned his personal terminal for intrusions.
Nothing.
Then he quietly infiltrated the city's public surveillance network around his apartment.
Among the massive streams of camera footage, he searched tirelessly.
Eventually—
He found something.
A pattern.
There was always a blind spot.
No matter where he went, a figure managed to avoid the direct view of every camera.
Only occasionally did a flicker of black fabric appear at the very edge of a frame.
The person knew the city's surveillance system better than its administrators.
Shen Yong finally confirmed it.
He was being tracked.
By a master.
So he decided to take the initiative.
That evening after work, he followed his usual route.
But when he reached an old commercial district with a maze of intersections, he pretended to answer a phone call.
Speaking loudly into the device, he casually turned into a narrow abandoned alley that ended in a dead wall.
In his palm, his terminal camera quietly recorded the entrance behind him.
The alley ended in a cold concrete wall covered in faded graffiti.
Shen Yong stopped.
Then slowly turned around.
The alley entrance stood empty.
Silence hung in the air.
Only distant construction noise echoed across the city.
Then—
Footsteps.
Calm.
Unhurried.
A man stepped into the alley.
He wore a perfectly tailored black suit.
Tall, elegant.
He looked like a financial executive who had just stepped out of a luxury office tower.
A faint smile curved across his face.
"You've been following me for a long time," Shen Yong said calmly.
But every muscle in his body was already tense.
"Who are you? EUC?"
The man smiled and shook his head.
"EUC?"
His voice was soft and resonant.
"Not at all."
"I'm merely a… theater enthusiast."
He walked forward leisurely.
"I especially enjoy tragedies."
Shen Yong frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"I've seen your script, Mr. Shen Yong."
The man stopped five meters away.
His deep eyes seemed to peer directly into Shen Yong's soul.
"It's a classic play."
"A mortal accidentally obtains the power of a god."
"He believes he's the hero on stage—saving cities and earning the applause of the masses."
The man paused.
His smile turned cold.
Pity gleamed in his eyes.
"But he doesn't realize how the people he protects will eventually treat him."
"Humans will want to capture you."
"To study you."
"To drain every last bit of value from you like a laboratory rat."
"Their worship will become curses overnight."
"And in the end…"
"You will die alone in endless battles."
"Abandoned by the very humanity you tried to protect."
He tilted his head slightly.
"You think you're the hero."
"But in truth… you're only a tragic clown being used by everyone."
"Isn't that the most beautiful tragedy?"
The words struck Shen Yong like a bolt of black lightning.
The man had spoken his name.
And exposed the deepest fear he had buried within himself.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"How do you know all this?!"
Shen Yong stepped forward, reaching out to grab the man's collar.
But the man simply stepped back lightly.
His body slipped gracefully into the shadows beside the wall.
"Mr. Shen Yong…"
"We'll meet again."
"I hope you can last until then."
When Shen Yong's fingers reached forward—
They grasped nothing.
Cold air.
The man was gone.
No sound.
No light.
No disturbance in the air.
He had vanished from a sealed alley with no exit.
Shen Yong stood frozen.
Cold sweat soaked his back.
The man's whisper—like a demon's prophecy—echoed endlessly in his mind.
Each word pierced the fragile faith he had built as a hero.
For the first time, he truly realized something terrifying.
The enemy he faced might be more unfathomable than all the monsters combined.
And a terrifying doubt began to grow in his heart:
Was anything he was doing… truly meaningful?