The next day, nearing noon.
The Sun in New York was still bright, but in Hells Kitchen, the sunlight always seemed to be covered by a hazy filter.
The first thing Sumire did after waking up was to block the convenience store owner who only knew how to exploit his employees.
In the cramped room, she sat by the creaking, worn-out bed, tore open a pack of expired biscuits, and stuffed them into her mouth.
She wasn't alone in the room.
The purple-haired girl with a black collar around her neck was sitting informally backward on the only old wooden chair in the room.
Her arms were crossed over the back of the chair, and her chin rested on the back of her hand.
Her emerald green eyes stared unblinkingly at Sumire eating, and her legs dangled idly in the air.
"Hey, how did you sleep last night?" Reze suddenly spoke, her voice lazy, like a cat basking in the Sun.
Sumire's chewing paused, and she subconsciously wanted to answer "not bad," but swallowed the words before they came out.
She looked at the other party a bit strangely: "Does that question have any meaning? You should know very well."
They were, strictly speaking, one person; although their bodies were separate, their thoughts and senses were still interconnected at a deeper level.
What Sumire was thinking, whether she slept well or not, Reze, as an Incarnation, could fully empathize with, and she even knew what dreams Sumire had.
"I know."
Reze replied with a smile, her eyes curving into beautiful crescents: "But it's more interesting to say it out loud, isn't it?"
She changed her posture, her cheek resting on her arm, tilting her head to look at Sumire, her tone carrying a hint of self-evident sophistry: "Besides, in front of others, to prevent our abilities from being discovered, we have to pretend to be two different people. This kind of conversation can help us adapt in advance, and on the other hand..."
Reze's voice lowered a bit, revealing a soft tenderness that made one's heart soften: "We are both very lonely. When there was only one person before, we couldn't talk. Now that we finally have a companion, if we keep quiet all day, wouldn't that be too pitiful?"
Sumire was stunned for a moment.
She looked at Reze's eyes, which seemed to be smiling but held deep meaning, and a complex emotion welled up in her heart.
Indeed, having struggled alone in this unfamiliar World for eighteen years, this sense of loneliness had long been ingrained in her bones.
"Talking to yourself is even more pitiful..." Sumire mumbled softly.
However, she did not refuse this interaction.
Although Reze was now Sumire, and Sumire was Reze, perhaps influenced by their physical personalities, Reze's way of thinking was clearly bolder, more unconventional, and even carried a hint of dangerous charm.
This subtle personality difference actually created the illusion of companionship in this "self-talk."
"Alright, suit yourself." Sumire lowered her head and took a bite of the biscuit, tacitly agreeing to this mode of interaction.
Seemingly satisfied with her main body's frankness, Reze chuckled softly and stood up from the chair.
With her hands behind her back, she walked with light steps to the bed, leaned slightly, and brought her delicate face close to Sumire.
As she approached, the scent of flowers once again enveloped Sumire.
Reze didn't speak, but simply extended a slender index finger and gently wiped away a crumb of biscuit stuck to the corner of Sumire's mouth.
The warm touch of her fingertip brushed against her lips, causing Sumire's breathing to hitch slightly.
"What..."
Then, to Sumire's surprise, Reze brought her finger to her own rosy lips, extended the tip of her tongue, and gently licked the biscuit crumb into her mouth.
「simulation value +10」
"?!"
Sumire's face instantly turned red, and an inexplicable sense of shame surged in her heart.
She was clearly her own Incarnation, so why did this action feel so... suggestive?
"So unappetizing." Reze frowned, sticking out her tongue in disgust. "How can you eat something that tastes like damp sawdust?"
"You..." Sumire was a little exasperated. "You clearly knew what it tasted like without eating it!"
"That's true..." Reze straightened up, but her gaze remained fixed on Sumire's still-chewing small mouth, her eyes smiling, yet carrying a hint of suggestive aggression: "But I still wanted to... taste it myself."
The meaning in her eyes made Sumire's heart skip a beat.
"Stop! That's enough!" Sumire felt that if she continued to stay with this mischievous Incarnation, she would eventually be teased into wanting to dig a hole and hide in it.
She quickly swallowed the last bite of biscuit and forcefully changed the subject: "Now that you're full, let's get to work!"
"Heh, heh~ So unromantic." Reze shrugged, a playful curve on her lips.
"No wonder you have such a pretty face, yet you've been single for eighteen years..."
"You..." Before the flustered Sumire could retort, Reze turned and walked to the window, gently pushing open the rusty window.
She propped herself up with one hand on the windowsill, gracefully flipped over, and like a nimble black cat, silently leaped out of the window.
Only a few seconds later did a dull boom echo from high in the sky.
...
A few hours later, Malibu Beach, California.
Tony Stark's cliffside mansion was bathed in golden sunlight, and waves crashed against the rocks; everything appeared so serene and luxurious.
The garage door slowly opened.
Tony Stark, dressed in a flashy casual suit and wearing sunglasses, was about to get into the driver's seat of his Audi R8.
Pepper Potts followed behind him, holding a stack of documents, speaking rapidly, her high heels clicking.
"Tony, you must confirm the expo's security protocol before tonight. Also, Colonel Rhodes has called three times; the Military is concerned about your last..."
"Relax, Pepper, relax."
Tony opened the car door, looking nonchalant.
"Today is for cruising. Can we leave business until I've burned through this tank of gas..."
His words suddenly caught in his throat.
Because he discovered that next to the door of his R8, a person was squatting.
A girl who looked quite young.
Shoulder-length dark purple hair, sickly pale skin, wearing a simple white sleeveless vest, and a particularly conspicuous black collar around her neck.
She was idly drawing circles on the R8's paint with her finger. Hearing the sound, she looked up, gazing at Tony with her innocent green eyes.
She appeared without a sound, like a ghost materializing out of thin air.
The air suddenly fell silent for three seconds.
Pepper Potts stopped, glanced at the girl who looked like a high school student, then frowned, looking at Tony with a cold, scrutinizing gaze usually reserved for perverts: "Tony, your taste now..."
"Isn't it a little too criminal?"