The dim blue light emitted by the television screen flickered continuously in the dark living room.
The sound of the joystick grinding harshly against its plastic casing mingled with the crisp clatter of rapid button presses.
Joanne sat cross-legged on the rug, her body leaning forward unconsciously until she was almost pressed against the screen.
Her lips were tightly pursed, and she even slowed her breathing on purpose, focusing all her attention on the clunky heavy brawler.
Zack kept his word.
He chose a bottom-tier character with the worst stats and operated his controller with only one hand.
Even so, Joanne was still flustered when dealing with the blocking and baiting that required precise micro-inputs.
Her character was pushed to the corner of the screen, her health bar reduced to a tiny sliver of red.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zack glanced at Joanne’s tense profile.
He paused his thumb on the D-pad for half a second, intentionally leaving a subtle opening.
Having been pummeled the entire match, Joanne captured this half-second window with precision.
She mashed the attack button with force.
On screen, the muscular character let out a roar, landing a slow but devastating combo squarely on Zack’s ninja.
Already fragile, the ninja’s health bar was instantly depleted, and he collapsed powerlessly to the ground.
“K.O.!”
A massive victory message filled the entire screen, accompanied by a shower of golden particle effects.
Joanne exhaled a long breath she had been holding in her chest.
She didn’t cheer excitedly like a normal gamer would.
She simply stared at the pixelated character posing in victory on screen.
Her shoulders slowly slumped, and she leaned back against the edge of the sofa as if drained of all moisture.
Zack put down the spare controller in his hand and reached for the water glass on the coffee table.
Just then, the Perfect Empathy Radar at the edge of his retina lit up silently.
The color on the interface didn’t display the joyful green of a victory.
Instead, a depressing, deep blue swirled across it.
[Current Emotion: Brief relief/deep panic/self-worth doubt.]
[Psychological Defense: Fear of her own mediocrity once “stripped of superpowers.”]
Zack’s hand froze halfway to the water glass.
He turned to look at Joanne leaning against the sofa.
Her head was bowed, her long golden hair draping down to obscure most of her face.
The tips of her fingers holding the controller were trembling uncontrollably.
Over the past twenty years of her life, Vought International had crafted her into a god without weaknesses.
Madelyn Stillwell had brainwashed her day after day, telling her that she would only be wanted if she was indestructible and perfectly flawless.
Tonight, stripped of her heat vision and her Body of Steel in a common game that tested nothing but reaction speed and skill, she had lost five consecutive rounds.
Even though she won the last round, she knew very well deep down that it was only because Zack had thrown the match.
This sense of frustration was like a tiny, venomous needle, precisely piercing her seemingly indestructible shell.
It dragged out the little girl deep inside her—the one who had grown up in a laboratory, constantly terrified of being discarded as a defective product.
She was terrified that once she took off that star-spangled suit, she would be absolutely nothing.
Zack sighed in his heart.
He returned the water glass to its place, leaned slightly toward Joanne, and reached out to gently pry the controller from her stiff fingers.
“Your palms are soaked in sweat.” Zack pulled out two tissues and stuffed them into her hand, his tone casual.
“It’s just a stupid game.
Is there really any need to get so worked up?”
Joanne squeezed the tissues, not looking up.
“Madelyn said Vought doesn’t need a flawed exhibit.” Her voice was very low, carrying a chill as if it had been soaked in ice water.
“If I can’t be the strongest in everything, the way those people look at me will change.
They’ll think I have no value, and they’ll start looking for the next replacement.”
It was the first time in this room that she had exposed her inner fears so bluntly.
“Turn around and look at me.” Zack’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a steady strength capable of penetrating her psychological defenses.
Joanne hesitated for two seconds before slowly raising her head.
Her deep blue eyes were threaded with fine red veins, resembling a lost cub caught in a storm, ready to bite at any moment.
“This isn’t Vought Tower’s exhibition stage, and I’m not one of those shareholders who needs you to maintain a perfect image.”
Zack looked straight into her eyes, his gaze calm and profound.
“You can’t even tell shredded potatoes apart from Sichuan peppercorns.
You’re so bad at console games that I have to spot you with one hand, and when you try to mop the floor, you snap the sponge mop in half.”
Zack listed her clumsy mishaps in this apartment one by one.
Joanne’s breath hitched slightly, and her already tense body shrank back.
A wave of embarrassment and panic welled in her eyes at having her secrets laid bare.
Just as she was about to use anger to mask her embarrassment, Zack shifted his tone.
“But so what?”
Zack softened his voice, letting his words flow gently through the quiet living room.
“You don’t need to be invincible to prove you’re qualified to sit on this rug.
Even if you lose every single game, even if you never learn how to use a mop for the rest of your life, you can still knock on my door right on time every evening to eat the tomato beef brisket I cook.”
The panic in Joanne’s eyes froze.
“Vought needs a heartless weapon.” Zack looked at her, placing the final piece of the puzzle.
“But here, I only need a roommate who can finish watching boring animal documentaries with me.
Your very presence in this room is your greatest value.”
These words were like a precise scalpel, slicing open the hardened concrete Vought had encased her heart in over twenty years, allowing the stagnant panic and self-doubt pooled inside to drain completely away.
The deep blue data stream on the Perfect Empathy Radar surged violently before quickly fading away like dense fog burned off by the sun, transforming into a bright, warm, pure green.
Joanne stared blankly at Zack.
There was no calculation in those deep black eyes, only an accepting warmth that treated her like an ordinary girl.
She felt a warm, stinging sensation welling deep in her eyes, and a long-lost feeling called “security” flooded her chest like a burst dam.
She shifted her body.
In this living room devoid of outsiders, this female superhero who could strike terror into the entire world moved closer to Zack, like a weary traveler who had finally found a safe harbor.
She extended her hands, her movements somewhat stiff, even carrying a hint of cautious hesitation as she tentatively wrapped them around Zack’s left arm.
Zack’s body stiffened slightly.
Through the thin fabric of his knit sweater, he could feel the warmth of Joanne’s hands and the weight of her leaning in.
Pressing her cheek against the outside of Zack’s arm, she curled herself up in a posture of extreme insecurity.
[Core psychological defenses successfully reconstructed.]
[Perfect Empathy Radar assessment: Target has developed attachment.]
[Nurture progress triggered a hidden node, expand funding extraction pool…]
[Obtained Legitimate Funds: $50,000,000]
[Note: Funds have been successfully laundered through the legal premium generated by a cross-border venture capital merger and acquisition.
As a tax-free asset, it has been transferred under the host’s real name into the core vault of Great Wall Capital.]
Fifty million dollars.
Looking at the astronomical figures flashing on the system panel, Zack didn’t reach for his phone to confirm.
He simply adjusted his seating posture, allowing Joanne to lean more comfortably against his arm.
His right hand remained resting on his knee, and he made no extra movements or attempts to soothe her.
He simply sat there like an old tree rooted deep in the soil, steadily supporting her weight.