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Charles and Nick Fury arrived at the White House, accompanied by the President's family and the unconscious kidnappers.
By the time they arrived, several media outlets, already tipped off, had gathered at the entrance, eagerly awaiting their arrival.
Seeing the crowd, Charles glanced at Nick Fury, who was behind the wheel. But Fury simply sat upright, eyes forward, maintaining an expression of complete indifference, as if none of this had anything to do with him.
Still, the presence of the media was a good thing—it would do wonders for his image as a hero.
"Let's get out," Fury said flatly, parking the car.
He quickly stepped out, walked to the passenger side, and opened the door for the First Lady. She had initially intended to compose herself, perhaps straighten her clothes, but after a brief hesitation, she decided against it and stepped out as she was. The moment her feet touched the ground, tears welled in her eyes.
Charles, meanwhile, opened his own door and turned toward the President's daughter, who had been staring at him in a daze. He offered a warm smile.
"Come on, my lady," he said, extending a hand.
Blushing slightly, she nodded and placed her hand in his, stepping out of the vehicle amidst a flurry of flashing cameras.
Security personnel immediately moved to block the reporters, even going so far as to push them back. But seeing this, the First Lady wiped her tears and shook her head.
"They're only concerned about us," she said. "Let them ask their questions. But I must warn you—I am exhausted and may not be able to answer much."
She forced a brave smile as she spoke.
Upon hearing this, the reporters surged forward, eager to ask their questions. In their responses, both the First Lady and the President's daughter repeatedly praised Charles for his heroism.
As for Nick Fury, he had already slipped into the security detail, blending in as he escorted the still-unconscious kidnappers—who had been tossed into the car's trunk—toward a secure holding area.
After answering a few questions, the First Lady and her daughter headed into the White House, leaving behind a crowd of unsatisfied journalists who were promptly blocked by security.
Though they couldn't directly interview the victims, the reporters showed no signs of leaving. In fact, as time passed, more and more of them arrived, all hoping to get firsthand information.
That night, the White House was unusually lively—almost reminiscent of Christmas Eve.
Finally, around midnight, an official announcement was made.
A press conference would be held at 9 AM to provide a detailed account of the incident. The event would be broadcast live, but only invited reporters would be granted access.
The moment the announcement was made, journalists scrambled to call their editors, all vying for a coveted invitation to the conference.
*The Next Morning—9 AM*
The press conference began precisely on schedule.
The President, accompanied by his family, entered the venue.
Though all three were neatly dressed, the exhaustion on their faces was impossible to hide.
They answered several questions, expressed their gratitude toward Charles and S.H.I.E.L.D., and gave special thanks to Charles in particular, offering him their sincerest appreciation.
Noticing this, the reporters couldn't help but shift their curiosity toward the man standing beside them—Charles.
As the conference continued, more and more details of the kidnapping were revealed.
Among them was a shocking revelation—Charles was a mutant, and his abilities had played a crucial role in rescuing the President's family.
The moment this was announced, the entire hall fell into a stunned silence. Then, in the Q&A session, reporters rushed to raise their hands, all eager to question Charles.
With a calm smile, Charles addressed them.
"Abilities are neither good nor evil—it depends on how they're used. Everyone has the right to choose their own path in life, and mutants deserve that same choice. If we can show more acceptance, more mutants will be inspired to use their powers for good."
These words had been carefully crafted in collaboration with the President the night before, receiving his approval before being spoken.
Clearly, after this ordeal, the President had developed a very favorable impression of Charles. Otherwise, a mutant would never have been granted the opportunity to stand at the podium of a White House press conference—let alone deliver a statement.
Though Charles only spoke a few words, the reporters' gazes lingered on him throughout the event, making it clear that once the press conference ended, they intended to seek him out for a more in-depth interview.
Finally, the full details of the kidnapping were disclosed, including the identity of the mastermind.
It was an almost unbelievable case. But once the kidnapper's identity was revealed, everything made sense.
The perpetrator was a former bodyguard of the President's family.
Not only did he know their every move, but he was also an expert in cybersecurity and computer technology. On top of that, he was an elite special forces operative. Becoming the President's bodyguard had been a crucial part of his kidnapping plan all along.
This operation wasn't a spur-of-the-moment crime—it had been meticulously planned for an entire year.
And as for his motive…
The kidnapper called himself an artist.
*After the Press Conference*
Though the event had officially concluded, many reporters lingered, waiting for Charles to exit.
The moment he stepped outside, they swarmed him.
Patiently, he answered their questions one by one.
He knew it—he had taken yet another step toward his goal.
And this time, it was a big one.
---
Meanwhile…
As the television screen flickered off, Mike leaned back, reflecting on Charles' commanding presence at the podium.
A small smile played at his lips.
Not bad.
Graceful, charismatic, and composed—he had inherited at least eighty percent of his style.
He really raised him well.
Mike couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. But when he noticed Gwen staring at him curiously, his face turned slightly red.
"Ahem. Gwen, what do you want for lunch? Do you want to eat out?"
"Eat out?" Gwen scrunched up her nose in distaste. "The food outside is terrible! I want to eat Daddy's cooking!"
"No problem!" Mike chuckled. Glancing at the time, he said, "Alright, let's go buy some groceries first."
Gwen nodded and dashed into her room. She quickly changed out of her loose loungewear, put on an outfit for going out, then grabbed a hat and wrapped a scarf with a small cat plush attached around her neck. Once ready, she ran back out and beamed at Mike.
"Daddy! I'm ready!"
Mike nodded and headed for the door.
Just as he reached for the doorknob, Gwen suddenly tilted her head and called out, "Wait, Daddy!"
She ran into Mike's bedroom, opened his wardrobe, and pulled out a matching scarf they had bought together before. Dragging a pair of gloves along with it, she ran back out.
"Daddy! Let me put this on for you!"
She held up the identical scarf with a bright smile.
Mike looked at her with gentle affection and knelt down so she could reach.
Carefully, Gwen wrapped the scarf around his neck, adjusting it so the little cat plush sat perfectly in place. She then took a step back, giving him a once-over before nodding in satisfaction.
"All done!"
She grinned and handed him the gloves.
Mike chuckled, tapping the tip of her nose lightly before fixing her hat. Then, hand in hand, the father and daughter stepped out into the bustling streets.
The supermarket wasn't far from home, so they walked.
Perhaps because Christmas Eve had been so quiet the night before, today's Christmas Day felt livelier than ever.
The streets were filled with people, and Gwen's eyes darted around, taking in the festive atmosphere.
Near the entrance of the supermarket, an employee dressed as Santa Claus stood handing out treats.
"Such a lovely young lady! Here, this is for you," he said, offering Gwen a Christmas tree-shaped candy.
Gwen's big eyes sparkled as she accepted it with a sweet smile. "Thank you, Grandpa! Can I have one more?"
"Of course, little miss!"
Amused by her cuteness, the Santa-clad employee handed her another candy.
Gwen beamed with joy. After thanking him politely once again, she tugged Mike's hand and led him into the supermarket.
She unwrapped one of the candies and popped it into her mouth. Then, carefully peeling the wrapper off the second one, she turned around and held it up to Mike.
"Daddy, this one's for you!"
Mike took the candy and popped it into his mouth.
Having a daughter is the best…
"Daddy, is it good?"
"Mmm, delicious."
"Is it sweet?"
"Very sweet."
"Then let's buy more later!"
"…Huh?"
(End of Chapter)