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[Mission "Subduing the Eccentric Client" Completed! Reward of 500 points has been distributed according to contribution.]
The hero "Sandman" performed exceptionally well, gaining valuable experience in on-the-spot command and tactical execution.
The hero "Mind Master" is remarkably effective against targets that cause mental pollution, and its impact is significant.
[The hero "Iron Wall" demonstrated excellent teamwork and successfully fulfilled his support role.]
[The association's first team effort to successfully handle a ghost-level threat! Teamwork experience +50.]
Inside the command center, Wesley smiled as he looked at the final report. A Demon-level threat, the team had overcome it! This was undoubtedly excellent proof of the Association's capabilities and methods!
The emergence of the "client" weirdo and the discussions it sparked also began to ferment on the Internet, triggering deep resonance (and fear) among countless working people.
The association's name has once again forcefully entered the public eye. This time, they've proven they can not only tackle physical challenges, but also the tough nut of mental pollution!
Chapter 23: My First Experience with Team Collaboration
Fisk Building, the Association's underground command center.
On the huge main screen, the battle with the "client" monster that had just ended was being replayed from multiple angles in slow motion. Every movement, every energy fluctuation, and even the mental force field confrontation reconstructed by special sensors was clearly presented in the form of data streams and visual graphics.
Flint the Sandman, Lin the Mind Master, and Ironwall the newcomer stood in front of the screen, still bearing the weariness and dust of battle, but their expressions were exceptionally focused. Wesley stood to the side, presiding over the post-battle debriefing.
"First of all, congratulations to the three of you on successfully completing the Association's first team-based mission to deal with a Demon-level threat." Wesley's voice echoed in the empty command room, with his usual calm. "Your performance has set a good example for the Association. But now, we need to learn more from this victory."
On the screen, the image freezes on the moment when Sandman first gathers sand to unleash a sand fist, only to have it blocked by the monster's invisible mental shield.
“Mr. Sandman,” Wesley pointed to the data panel, which displayed the impact data of the Sand Fist and the energy composition simulation of the mental shield, “your initial attack was clearly intended to quickly suppress the target. However, the data shows that the target’s mental defense strength far exceeded expectations, exhibiting excellent resistance to purely physical attacks. This is a deficiency in intelligence prediction, and it is an area we need to strengthen in the future—establishing a more comprehensive database of monster abilities.”
Sandman looked at the screen, nodded, and said in a deep voice, "I was too impatient. I felt influenced by his mental noise and wanted to end the battle as soon as possible."
"When facing unknown types of enemies, caution is more important than bravery." Wesley agreed, then switched the scene to the point where Sandman transformed into a sand fog that enveloped the monster, interfering with and restricting its movement. "This tactical adjustment was very timely and correct. By using the characteristics of his own abilities to restrain and probe, he created opportunities for his teammates."
The scene shifts again, focusing on the meditator. The confrontation between his invisible field of silence and the monster's chaotic mental realm is presented in the visualization as a pure area that is constantly eroding and eliminating the murky colors.
"Mr. Mindfulness Master, you are the key to this mission." Wesley's tone carried a hint of admiration. "Your silence field not only effectively protected your teammates, but more importantly, your strategy of actively infiltrating and dismantling the opponent's mental domain directly shook the very foundation of the target. Data shows that in the third second after you launched your full-force mental attack, the target's mental pollution output power decreased by 27%. This is decisive."
The meditator nodded slightly, and a calm voice came from behind the silver mask: "His 'noise' is loud, but the core is chaotic. Using 'stillness' to control 'chaos' is essentially a victory of order." His summary was as concise and profound as ever.
Finally, the scene focuses on the barrier struggling to maintain its energy. The fluctuations in the barrier are clearly visible; at the height of the monster's mental attack, the barrier's strength briefly dropped below the warning threshold.
“Mr. Iron Wall,” Wesley said, looking at the somewhat nervous young man, “your barrier acted as a buffer at crucial moments, especially in protecting the meditator’s focus on casting spells. Although the barrier’s strength and stability need improvement, your teamwork and sense of purpose are very clear. Remember, in a team, clearly defining your responsibilities and executing them resolutely is equally important.”
Ironwall breathed a sigh of relief and nodded vigorously: "Yes, Mr. Wesley! I will intensify the training to improve the strength and endurance of the barrier!"
Wesley operated the control panel, bringing up the final moment when the Sandman condensed the giant sand blade and sealed the deal with it. On the screen, the data on the sand grain cohesion and energy conduction efficiency soared to a peak, with the label "[Assisted by external activator]" next to it.
"The final, fatal blow was perfectly timed, executed with perfect force, and utilized with external support," Wesley concluded. "But this was built upon the foundation laid by the team beforehand. The Mind Master's interference created openings, while the Iron Wall's protection allowed the attack to proceed smoothly. Mr. Sandman, as the on-site commander, your timely adjustments to tactics during the battle and your ultimate seizing of the opportunity were invaluable."
He turned off the replay and glanced at the three of them: "This mission exposed the problems and also proved the value of teamwork. If we had gone it alone, Mr. Sandman might have been able to wear down the target with his strength, but it would have taken longer, been riskier, and caused incalculable collateral damage (especially on a psychological level). Teamwork, on the other hand, achieved a 1+1+1>3 effect, resolving the crisis with higher efficiency and less cost."
"The future development direction of the association will inevitably be team-based and professional. The three of you are the pioneers and verifiers of this system," Wesley said solemnly. "Next, the association will begin to formulate more detailed team collaboration standards, including command authority, communication standards, and the principle of complementary skills. We hope that you can incorporate your experience into them."
Flint, the Sandman, felt this deeply. He was used to solving problems on his own, but this time, he truly felt the importance of his teammates. The feeling of entrusting his back to his companions and focusing on his area of expertise was very reassuring. He looked at the silent soothsayer and the slightly inexperienced Iron Wall beside him, and for the first time, he felt a sense of belonging to the "team."
“We understand, Mr. Wesley,” the three Sandman representatives responded. “Teamwork is definitely better than brute force.”
The meditation master nodded slightly in agreement. The barrier seemed even more agitated.
“Very good.” Wesley smiled slightly. “The mission reward points have been distributed according to contribution. You three have worked hard, go and rest. The follow-up team training plan will be issued soon.”
After the three left the command room, Wesley sent a preliminary team combat analysis report to Kingpin's terminal.
In the top-floor office, Kingpin quickly scanned the report. His gaze lingered for a moment on keywords such as "active penetration of the Mindset Master's mental field," "Sandman tactical adjustments," and "Iron Wall auxiliary positioning," before finally settling on the report's conclusion: [The team collaboration model has been initially verified as successful and possesses extremely high promotional value. It is recommended to accelerate the construction of relevant systems and training mechanisms.]
Kingpin closed the report and looked out the window.
What he needed was never a group of strong individuals fighting independently, but an army that obeyed orders and cooperated seamlessly. The successful collaboration between Sandman, Meditation Master, and Ironwall marked the first solid step the association had taken from isolated "points" towards becoming an interwoven "network."
The era of individual bravery may not be completely over, but systematic and team-based strength will undoubtedly become the key to dominating the battlefield in the future.
This first experience of teamwork was not just a victory in a mission, but also a faint prelude to a new era, slowly unfolding before him.
What he needs to do is to turn this prelude into a magnificent movement that will sweep the world as soon as possible.
Chapter 24: Post-war psychological counseling is very important
The dust of the battle has settled, and the physical damage caused by the "client" monster is being rapidly repaired by the association's efficient logistics team. The distorted office area is visibly returning to order. However, an invisible, more subtle wound, like a sticky spider web, lingers in the hearts of those who have just experienced that mental storm, including the victorious heroes.
After completing their initial mission report, Sandman Flint, Meditation Master Lin, and the Bulwark did not immediately disband to train or rest as usual. They were informed by Wesley that they needed to go to the newly established "Mental and Physical Health Support Center" within the building for a routine post-war assessment.
The "Mental and Physical Health Protection Center" is located in a relatively quiet area of the association's headquarters, with an environment completely different from the hardcore style of combat and training. Soft beige walls, comfortable warm lighting, and a faint, relaxing aroma of plant essential oils permeate the air. The soundproofing is excellent, and almost no outside noise can be heard.
Flint was the first to be invited into the assessment room. He sat somewhat awkwardly on an overly soft-looking sofa, opposite a middle-aged woman in a white uniform with a gentle demeanor; her name tag read "Psychological Counselor, Dr. Emily".
“Mr. Marco, relax. This is just a routine exchange, not an interrogation.” Dr. Emily’s voice, like her appearance, carried a reassuring power. “We can talk about the mission we just had. Any feelings, good or bad, are welcome.”
Flint paused for a moment. He was used to solving problems with his fists and sandstorms, and this experience of sitting down and talking about "feelings" was very foreign to him, even a little... awkward.
"Mission... is complete. The target has been subdued and the civilians have been rescued." He spoke concisely, as if giving a work report.
Dr. Emily smiled and nodded: "Yes, you did an excellent job, you are true heroes. But, Mr. Marco, when facing an enemy that can directly affect one's thoughts and emotions, especially one whose core ability is to induce self-doubt and logical confusion, even if you win, will there still be some lingering unease in your heart? For example, will those chaotic thoughts occasionally flash back? Or will you feel a little uncertain about your own judgment?"
Flint paused slightly. Indeed, after the battle, those absurd, imposed thoughts about his attack being "unoriginal" occasionally flashed through his mind, though he quickly dismissed them, the traces remained. He had initially thought they were just insignificant noises.
“…A little.” He finally admitted it, his voice low.
“This is a perfectly normal stress response,” Dr. Emily explained calmly. “That kind of mental pollution is like a potent poison; even after detoxification, the body and mind need a process of metabolism and recovery. Acknowledging this influence is the first step to recovery.” She guided Flint, describing the feeling of being disturbed in simple and easy-to-understand language, and taught him several basic techniques for focusing the mind and calming emotions.
“Remember, Mr. Marco, a hero’s strength lies not only in outward abilities, but also in inner resilience and clarity. The association cares about the physical and mental well-being of every member, as this directly relates to your ability to continue and safely fulfill your duties,” Dr. Emily concluded. “If you experience any unusual symptoms later, feel free to come here and talk to us.”
As Flint left the assessment room, he felt inexplicably relieved. The lingering, subtle agitation seemed to have been truly soothed and calmed by the conversation and guidance he had just received. For the first time, he realized that "care" after a battle was not just about treating physical wounds.
Next, he entered the meditation room. His interaction with Dr. Emily was even briefer, lasting mostly in silence. Dr. Emily used sophisticated instruments to monitor his brainwave activity and mental stability.
“Mr. Lin, your mental barrier is very strong, and the nature of your silent field also gives you a high degree of resistance to this type of pollution,” Dr. Emily said, looking at the data report. “However, actively penetrating and dismantling a chaotic field of that intensity still puts a considerable strain on your mental energy. The data shows that there is a slight tremor in your deep mental sea. It is recommended that you engage in at least six hours of deep meditation and use the ‘Mental Relaxation Device’ provided by the center to assist in recovery.”
The meditation master nodded slightly, saying nothing, but clearly accepting the advice. For him, maintaining the purity and stability of his spiritual energy was the foundation of his power, and the professional support provided by the association hit the nail on the head.
Finally, there was the barrier. The young man was clearly still immersed in the excitement and slight fear of participating in his first high-level mission, and he became more talkative.
"Doctor, when that strange voice rushed over, my barrier shook violently. I was so afraid it would shatter!" Barrier gestured. "My mind was a mess too. I kept thinking, 'Am I standing in the wrong place? Am I holding everyone back?'"
Dr. Emily listened patiently, offering timely affirmation: "But you persevered and, at the crucial moment, contracted the barrier to protect the meditator, making a very correct judgment. It's only natural to feel nervous and doubtful when facing a demonic threat for the first time. What's important is that you overcame them and fulfilled your duty. That in itself is proof of growth and courage."
She helped Barrier analyze several key moments in the task, reinforced his positive experience, and taught him breathing techniques and positive self-suggestion to address his tendency to experience anxiety.
"The road to heroism is long; there's no need to demand perfection from yourself all at once. Every mission, big or small, is an opportunity for growth," Dr. Emily gently encouraged.
When the barrier was lifted, the unease on his face had vanished, replaced by a more resolute expression after weathering the storm.
Not only the heroes who participated in the battle, but also ordinary people who were affected by the "A" monster's mental state, the association also sent a special psychological intervention team to cooperate with medical institutions to provide guidance and follow-up observation to ensure that they would not suffer long-term psychological trauma.
This series of professional, thoughtful, and humane measures stands in stark contrast to the practice of some superheroes (or vigilantes) who often only take down bad guys and ignore the aftermath, which often leads to greater social problems and property losses for the public.
Related reports and insider revelations quickly sparked heated discussions online.
The Hero Association not only handles the fighting, but also the "after-sales service"? They even provide psychological counseling!
A stark contrast: The difference in social responsibility between professional organizations and lone wolves.
"Sand people and meditation therapists undergo post-war psychological evaluations; association management system draws attention."
"That's what you call being responsible! What kind of hero hits and runs away?"
"I heard that the association sent people to provide psychological counseling to the white-collar workers who were rescued. How heartwarming!"
"Look at that guy wearing a metal suit flying in the sky, how many buildings he smashed, how many people he scared?"
"And what about that guy swinging on a swing between buildings? His casualty rate must be pretty high, right? Who's going to provide psychological counseling for the victims?"
As the association repeatedly demonstrated its professionalism, systematic approach, and responsible image, the balance of public opinion began to tip quietly.
Inside Nick Fury's office at S.H.I.E.L.D.
Agent Coulson reported on the Association's post-war psychological support mechanisms. "...Their system is very comprehensive, covering everyone from heroes to affected civilians. Moreover, based on our limited understanding, the psychological assessment and support techniques they use seem to be...remarkably effective."
Fury stared at the report with one eye, remaining silent for a long time. He thought of the Avengers members, each one a problem child, plagued by internal conflicts, psychological trauma, and PTSD… Dealing with these issues had consumed a great deal of his energy, with little effect. Kingpin's organization, on the other hand, seemed to have incorporated these problems into a “standardized process” using an almost cold, corporate management approach.
This gave him a strange sense of unease. Although Kingpin's path, in his view, lacked the warmth and complex human brilliance that a "hero" should possess, it was undeniably astonishingly efficient and controllable.
“Continue to observe.” Fury finally uttered only four words, but his vigilance deepened.
At the association headquarters, Kingpin looked at the report on post-war psychological counseling and the resulting public opinion. His face was expressionless, but deep in his eyes, a glint of complete control flashed.
Psychological counseling? Employee benefits? Social responsibility?
These are all just means to an end.
The goal is to build a "heroic" team that is stable in mind and body, loyal and reliable, and capable of continuous and efficient combat, and to continuously strengthen the association's brand image of "professionalism, reliability and responsibility" in the public's mind.
In retrospect, this investment has yielded a pretty good return.
The foundation of the association is being strengthened more and more solidly in these seemingly insignificant details.
Chapter 25: Captain America's Doubts
Early morning at the Avengers' temporary headquarters (converted from Stark Tower).
Steve Rogers finished his unwavering morning workout, his grey training vest soaked with sweat, highlighting his still-perfectly sculpted muscles. He wiped his neck with a towel and headed to the common rest area to replenish his fluids and energy.
On the enormous LCD screen, the morning news was playing. As the footage shifted, a striking blue emblem—the Hero Association's shield and star-studded olive branch—came into view again. Next came footage of Sandman controlling a sandstorm to engulf mechs, followed by a calming montage where a psychic used the word "Quiet" to quell the chaos, and then images of the Association's logistics forces efficiently clearing the battlefield. The news anchor, in a slightly excited tone, reported on how this emerging organization was handling the city's increasingly frequent paranormal events with "professionalism" and "efficiency."
Steve paused slightly in his hand holding the water glass, his brows furrowing involuntarily, his blue eyes filled with more profound confusion than opposition.
"Heroes... Association?" He repeated the name softly, as if trying to discern some special meaning from it. To him, the phrase carried an indescribable sense of alienation and... institutionalized coldness.
In his mind, the word "hero" carries immense weight. It represents the courage to stand up in dark times, the fearlessness to sacrifice for beliefs and others, and a calling that transcends personal gain, stemming from the purest sense of justice within. This is everything he personally experienced and fought for. When his brothers in the Bucky Howling Commandos roared towards Hydra's positions, who thought about pay and health insurance? When he piloted a plane loaded with nuclear bombs towards the ice field, who mentioned retirement plans to him?
Now, this man named Wilson Fisk, this "entrepreneur" whose background he vaguely senses is not simple, is tightly binding the words "hero" with "association," "profession," and "social security and housing fund," and is trying to promote them into a widely accepted industry standard.
This clashed violently with his deep-seated beliefs.
"Captain, you saw that news too?" A voice came from behind him. Sam Wilson, Falcon, walked over with a coffee in hand, his gaze also falling on the screen. "It's really popular. Everyone's talking about this 'Hero Association' now."
“Sam,” Steve turned around, his face showing undisguised confusion, “what do you think about…professionalizing heroic acts?”
Sam shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “To be honest, Captain, it’s a bit complicated. On the bright side, it seems to allow those who are capable and willing to help to act without any worries. You and I both know that not everyone is as rich as Stark, or as… well, like you.” He skillfully avoided the sensitive phrase “frozen for seventy years.”
“But?” Steve understood the implication in his words.
“But,” Sam put down his coffee cup, his expression becoming more serious, “something just doesn’t feel right. If being a ‘hero’ becomes a paid job, won’t its core essence be distorted? When saving others becomes a performance evaluation, when chivalry requires calculating points and rewards… will that original, purest motivation still be there? I worry that this will breed a group of… sophisticated egoists, rather than true heroes.”
This was precisely the vague unease Steve harbored, a doubt he couldn't articulate so clearly. He nodded, his gaze returning to the blue logo on the screen.
“And this Fisk…” Sam lowered his voice, “the S.H.I.E.L.D. files don’t look very friendly on him. Someone with that kind of background, suddenly transforming into the ‘boss’ of all the heroes? It sounds like… like…” He searched for a suitable analogy.
“It’s like someone’s trying to replace the sense of honor of soldiers on the battlefield with the contractual terms of mercenaries,” Steve continued in a low, heavy voice.
"Yes! That's exactly it!" Sam slapped his thigh. "Captain, you're really good at summarizing."
Just then, Tony Stark, dressed in a flashy custom suit and with a donut dangling from his mouth, strolled in, clearly having just finished (or interrupted) his all-night research session.
"Hey, what serious topic are the old soldier and Birdman discussing?" he mumbled, glancing at the screen before immediately understanding. "Oh, they're talking about Kingpin and his 'superhuman human resources company' again?"
His tone was full of his signature Stark sarcasm.
“Tony,” Steve looked at him, his tone serious, “do you think his ideas are really feasible? Are they... a good thing for the world?”
Tony swallowed the donut in a few bites, dusted off the sugar crumbs on his hands, walked to the screen, crossed his arms, and looked at the association's promotional image with the scrutinizing gaze one would give a tech product.
"Feasible? From a business management and technology integration perspective, that guy did... damn well not bad." Tony curled his lip, seemingly reluctant to admit it. "His mission issuance system, the logistical technology he demonstrated, and even the short-term growth curve of that giant thing that can turn people into sand, all exude an eerie efficiency."
He abruptly changed the subject, his face once again displaying that familiar expression—a mixture of pride and disdain: "But Rogers, you ask me if it's a good thing? My answer remains—no!"
He turned around, pointing to his chest: "What is a hero? It's inspiration! It's breakthrough! It's a unique legend! Look at me, look at you! Which of us was trained according to some bullshit 'professional code'? Were we crammed into a mold and molded by KPIs and regulations?"
"His system might produce qualified 'crisis managers,' but it will never create true 'heroes'!" Tony's tone was resolute. "It will turn individuals with extraordinary potential into standardized products on an assembly line, erasing their individuality and stifling their creativity! Just think, if some 'association' had been pointing fingers at me back then, stipulating that I had to complete the miniaturization of the Arc Reactor by a certain time, would there still be Iron Man?"
Steve listened in silence. Tony's views, though extreme, touched upon his own anxieties from another perspective. He believed in the importance of order and discipline, but also firmly believed that human spirit, conviction, and autonomy were irreplaceable.
“I’m just… not sure, Tony,” Steve finally spoke slowly, his gaze deep. “Times are changing, threats are changing. Perhaps the way we deal with them needs to change too. But his approach… so directly links the responsibility of protecting others with material rewards, I can’t easily agree with it.”
The image of Peggy Carter flashed through his mind, reminding him of the people of their generation who were willing to give everything without complaint for a common, noble goal.
“We need to stay on the lookout, Steve.” Natasha Romanoff, who had been silent until now, appeared in the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her eyes sharp. “King isn’t just a simple philanthropist. There must be a deeper purpose behind the massive resources he’s investing. This ‘Hero Association’ is very likely just the first step in his grand plan.”
Steve nodded. As Captain America, he had experienced far too many conspiracies and betrayals. He was naturally wary of any solution that was too "perfect" or "efficient."
The news has moved on to the next topic, but the blue logo and the concept of "professional heroism" are like a stone thrown into Steve Rogers' heart, and the ripples they have created are far from over.
He stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the city gradually awakening below. In this city he had once sworn to defend with his life, yet now felt somewhat alien, a new force was rising, redefining "heroism" and "responsibility" in a way he couldn't fully comprehend.