Remember Carefully!
18: Chapter 18: Everyone, Please Remember!
Remember Carefully!
“Think about your own children.
If they died in despair due to a system loophole that could have been saved, what would you think?!
And those crew members—they were just doing their jobs.
They shouldn’t have died!
They could have lived!” When he reached the emotional climax, Chen Mo’s voice even cracked with a hint of hoarseness.
That sense of conviction that struck straight to the soul, combined with a self-flagellating sense of guilt, made many female reporters present unable to hold back their tears.
Ashley, standing by the side door, was going crazy.
She pinched her thigh hard, with only one thought in her mind: What is he doing?!
Is he insane?!
He’s improvising off-script!
But as Chen Mo continued his narrative, Ashley, as a seasoned PR professional, froze.
Because she realized that the group of picky, caustic, and mercenary media thorns in the audience had all been led into an emotional dead end by The Deep.
Chen Mo leaned forward again, pressing his hands firmly onto the podium, his gaze sweeping across the room like a torch: “Everyone, please remember!
Remember carefully!” “How many planes have crashed due to force majeure over these years?
How many disasters have unfolded right before our eyes?” “Among us, some have lost dear friends, some have lost spouses who stood by them through thick and thin, and some have lost children they cherished as their own lives!
What more must we lose?!
What else is there left to lose?!” He took a deep breath, pushing the emotion to its climax, and with a tone that was almost sermon-like, inflammatory, yet resolute, he fired the final heavy artillery: “Go talk to your congressmen!
Pick up your phones, go to their offices, leave comments on their social media!” “Tell them, and they will listen to you!
Integrating Superhuman into the national defense system and allowing superheroes to legally provide immediate rescue is a necessity!
This is to prevent tragedy from repeating, and it is for every single one of us!” A perfect landing.
Chen Mo didn’t give anyone time to react or ask questions.
After tossing this political bomb capable of whipping up a nationwide media tsunami, he closed his eyes in pain, as if he could no longer bear the sorrow, turned abruptly, and strode off the podium.
Only after his figure had completely vanished behind the hallway did the press room erupt into the wildest roar since the start of the event, as if waking from a dream.
The cameras and microphones almost crushed the barricades.
Backstage, Ashley leaned against the wall, panting heavily.
She looked at Chen Mo as if he were an alien.
“You…
you…” She pointed at Chen Mo, unable to form a complete sentence for a long time.
It was supposed to be just a routine disaster PR event, but The Deep had just turned this “accident” into a sharp blade aimed directly at the Washington Congress!
With the blood of the Mayor of Baltimore and his family, he had delivered the perfect “GG” for Vought’s long-coveted “Superhero Access Act”!
“Don’t look at me like that, Ashley.” Chen Mo took the towel and wiped his face with a calm expression.
The sorrow in his eyes vanished instantly, leaving only a hint of playful amusement: “I told you, I’m in top form today.” “Ms.
Madelyn wants to see you, The Deep.” Ashley finally composed herself.
Her cheeks were still burning; undeniably, she too had been moved by Chen Mo’s speech.
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow, tossed the towel back to the assistant nearby, and feigned surprise: “Didn’t we just meet?” “Oh, The Deep, stop joking.
This is so important!” Ashley trotted after Chen Mo in her high heels, staring intently at the rapidly soaring Twitter trends on her tablet, her face flushed with excitement as she whispered: “Fox’s live stream viewership has broken records!
The whole country is sharing that clip of you saying ‘They weren’t doomed’!
The official accounts of those far-left congressmen in Washington have been flooded by angry voters…
My God, The Deep, you were like a god selling faith on that stage!
Even I almost believed your nonsense!” “That’s not nonsense, Ashley.” Chen Mo stepped into the private elevator, pressed the button for the 80th floor where Madelyn Stillwell was, turned around, and smiled at her slightly.
“That’s called ‘A Sincere Call from the Deep.’ Remember this positioning; we can use it for our merchandise and autobiography later.” The elevator doors slowly closed, shutting out Ashley’s face, which was filled with both adoration and excitement.
“Ding—” The 80th floor arrived.
Chen Mo took a deep breath and adjusted his expression—a mix of anxiety after achieving a great merit, a hint of just-right self-satisfaction, and absolute reverence for the company’s top management.
Walking through the luxurious and heavy corridor, Chen Mo pushed open the doors to the CEO’s office.
The room was quiet.
The blinds were half-drawn, making the lighting appear somewhat dim.
Madelyn Stillwell was sitting behind the massive desk, with a glass of freshly poured red wine by her side.
On the multi-panel screen on the wall, the footage of Chen Mo’s teary-eyed, voice-cracking accusation at the press conference was playing on silent loop.
“Clap, clap, clap.” Seeing Chen Mo enter, Madelyn Stillwell didn’t speak immediately; instead, she applauded him.
“‘They weren’t doomed’…
Brilliant, truly brilliant, The Deep.” She stood up, carrying the glass of red wine as she walked around the desk, the sound of her high heels clicking on the expensive marble floor crisp and rhythmic.
“The PR department just finished an emergency assessment.
Because of your ‘outpouring of genuine emotion’ just now, three old guys at the Pentagon who were originally opposed have already wavered.
You’ve accelerated the progress of Vought’s long-coveted Superhero Access Act by at least half a year.” Madelyn Stillwell stopped half a step away from Chen Mo and handed the red wine to him; the red liquid in the glass swayed slightly.
“Come on, let’s have a drink together.
Mr.
Stan Edgar on the 82nd floor was just full of praise for you.” Chen Mo obediently took the wine glass, the cold stem turning between his fingertips, while he forced a just-right blush of being flattered onto his face.
“Thank you, Ms.
Madelyn, and Mr.
Stan Edgar.
I just…
while I was standing on the stage, I suddenly felt like I should do something for the company.” “But honestly, The Deep, you usually can’t even string a coherent sentence together on stage, and you’d rather dive into an aquarium the moment you see a camera.
How did you suddenly have an epiphany today?
You even came up with phrases like ‘They weren’t doomed’—who taught you that?” Madelyn Stillwell stared at Chen Mo, and suddenly, as if she had thought of something, she said.