In a few minutes, the food was served.
The glistening fish-flavored shredded pork was served over rice, the mapo tofu was coated in a bright red sauce and steaming, and the pull-tab of the iced cola popped with a soft “hiss,” with bubbles rising to the top.
I picked up my chopsticks, took a mouthful of the fish-flavored shredded pork mixed with rice, and the moment the sweet, sour, salty, and savory flavors exploded in my mouth, I almost couldn’t help but shed tears.
Four days.
I finally ate a proper meal, something fit for human consumption.
I buried my head in my food, eating mouthful after mouthful, even mixing the sauce with the rice until it was clean, and drank more than half the bottle of iced cola; the cold bubbles slid down my throat, and I felt completely comfortable.
Full and satisfied, I leaned back in my chair and looked at the old-fashioned tube TV on the wall, feeling a bit dazed.
The TV was playing domestic U.S.
news, with the anchor reporting in crisp, clear tones.
For a moment, I even felt like I had returned to my dorm in 2026, having just finished grinding an azur lane event, ordered takeout, and was drinking cola in front of the computer—a plain, simple, yet secure life.
But the TV screen suddenly changed, cutting to international news, pulling me back to reality in an instant.
On the screen appeared the face I had seen countless times in movies.
Tony Stark, wearing a custom suit, standing in the desert, surrounded by a group of Military personnel, with the latest Jericho missile behind him.
He smiled at the camera in that smug way of his, raised a glass, and said something to the lens; the scene cut to the missile launch, and the light of the explosion soared into the sky.
The news anchor’s voice followed: “Stark Industries completed a live-fire test of a new missile in Afghanistan today, and CEO Tony Stark stated that this new weapon will bring more efficient security guarantees to the U.S.
Military…” The cola can in my hand paused, the relaxation from just a moment ago vanished without a trace, and my fingertips tightened slightly.
Stark Industries.
Tony Stark.
Afghanistan.
I knew exactly what was going to happen next.
In at most half a year, this playboy arms dealer would be kidnapped by Terrorists in Afghanistan, and then, in that cave, he would build the first generation of the Iron Man armor, officially raising the curtain on the Marvel Universe.
Superheroes, supervillains, alien invasions, the universal snap…
everything that could turn this World upside down would start from this moment, step by step.
And I am right here at the center of this storm, New York.
I subconsciously scanned the entire restaurant, my gaze pausing for half a second on the two men in black suits who had just walked in, and my heart instantly jumped.
S.H.I.E.L.D.?
HYDRA?
But the next second, the two men greeted the owner in fluent Chinese and asked if there was a private room; it turned out they were just Chinese tourists.
I let out a sigh of relief, leaned back against the chair, and tugged at the corner of my mouth with a bit of self-mockery.
I’m becoming paranoid.
Well, it makes sense; in this godforsaken place, if you aren’t careful, you won’t even know how you died.
With a super artificial intelligence that can freely invade global electronic systems, I’d be dragged to a lab the very next day; dissection and slicing would be getting off light.
Just then, the TV signal suddenly had problems, the picture began to flicker wildly, filled with static, and the buzzing noise was headache-inducing.
I frowned and subconsciously muttered in my heart: “Stop lagging, I’m trying to watch the news.” The thought had barely crossed my mind when the wildly flickering old TV instantly returned to clarity; the picture was as stable as if the static had never appeared, and even the noise vanished completely.
I raised an eyebrow, not paying too much attention.
I naturally attributed this to TB’s basic abilities; after all, for a super artificial intelligence, stabilizing the signal of an old TV is as simple as it gets.
I completely failed to realize that I hadn’t actively connected to the TV’s system from start to finish, and hadn’t even had a conscious thought to manipulate it—just a subconscious idea had rewritten the operating state of this device.
I can only say: Tesseract technology is awe-inspiring.
After paying the bill, by the time I walked out of the restaurant, it was completely dark.
The red lanterns of Chinatown were lit, the shops along the street were brightly illuminated, the sounds of Chinese hawking rose and fell, and the warm, smoky atmosphere enveloped me, finally allowing my nerves, which had been tense all day, a moment of respite.
I held the remaining half-bottle of iced cola in my hand, walked slowly toward the subway station, with the cash I’d earned today in my pocket and hot Chinese food in my stomach, feeling much more at ease.
Today could be considered a perfect day: I made money, ate something delicious, didn’t cause any trouble, didn’t leave any traces, and perfectly implemented the core principle of “staying low-key.” I looked up at the night sky of New York, obscured by light pollution so that not a single star could be seen; in the distance, Manhattan was brightly lit, and the spire of Stark Tower gleamed with a cold light in the night.
It doesn’t matter.
There is still half a year; I can save enough money, find a place far away from New York, far away from all the superheroes, and live steadily.
As long as I don’t actively get involved in those messy affairs and don’t expose my abilities, no one will be able to find me.
Fate has given me a second life, and I must live it well.
I pulled up my hood, covered my conspicuous white hair, blended into the crowd at the subway station, and disappeared into the night.
The moment I turned to walk into the subway station, the surveillance cameras on the entire street of Chinatown flickered simultaneously, and all the footage capturing me today, including the content on the backup hard drives, was silently wiped clean, without even a trace of data remaining.
Just as if I had never been here.