The early autumn night wind blew straight in, stripping away the remaining warmth in the living room degree by degree.
Zack Vance tightened the cap of the iodine bottle and put it back into the medical kit.
The faint cut on his neck had been disinfected; the initial stinging sensation had faded into a dull, throbbing ache.
He leaned back against the sofa and let out a soft breath, his tense nerves finally relaxing.
Turning his head, his gaze naturally fell on the armchair beside him.
Joanne was still holding her knees in that same position.
Her thin black silk nightgown fluttered slightly in the night wind, her ten pale toes curling tightly with exertion.
Her eyes were pinned to Zack’s neck.
The area smeared with brown iodine stood out starkly against his fair skin.
The air in the living room began to feel strangely oppressive.
This wasn’t the violent heatwave from before, the one filled with clear aggression and destructive intent.
The rising temperature now felt more like an uncontrollable malfunction inside a sealed pressure chamber.
The air grew dry, and the leather edge of the sofa made a faint creaking sound under the chaotic, radiating heat.
Zack noticed the change in his environment.
He glanced at the radar panel at the edge of his vision.
[Current Emotion: Deep Panic / Separation Anxiety PTSD]
[Mental State: Unconscious leak of power due to emotional breakdown]
“That hypocritical woman, Madelyn…” Joanne’s lips trembled.
“I couldn’t sleep in the tower…
I used my hearing to listen to what was happening on the ninety-ninth floor.
I heard the communication orders she gave in her office.”
Without waiting for Zack to reply, she rambled on, the red glow in her eyes growing brighter and more piercing as her breathing quickened.
“She told the communicator that you were using me to threaten her…
She told Black Noir to keep his knife tight.” Joanne looked up, her blood-red eyes filled with panic.
“When I heard those words, I felt like my heart stopped.
If I had flown just a bit slower, if I hadn’t paid attention to her transmission, would that knife with your blood on it have already slit your throat?”
All her life, Joanne had lived in a world made of steel, bulletproof glass, and superpowers.
In her mind, injury and death were distant concepts.
Not until tonight, when she crashed through the balcony glass and saw the blood on Black Noir’s hands and the cut on Zack’s neck, did an unprecedented fear stab through her supposedly invincible psychological defenses like a cold blade.
She finally realized that the man in front of her, the one who gave her a sense of peace, was just an ordinary human without any extraordinary powers.
He was so fragile that a single minor accident could destroy him completely.
Along with this deep fear, the heat vision energy unconsciously gathering in her eyes reached a dangerous tipping point.
Zack didn’t interrupt her incoherent rambling.
He stood up, stepped into the searing wave of heat that threatened to scorch his skin, and walked over to Joanne.
Sensing someone approaching, Joanne instinctively looked up.
Zack bent down and opened his arms, pulling this shivering, terrified female Homelander firmly into his embrace.
The moment she made contact with Zack’s warmth, Joanne clung to him like a drowning person grabbing a piece of driftwood.
Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and back, burying her face against his chest.
To make sure this person was still alive in her arms, to feel his vibrant heartbeat, she unconsciously tightened her grip.
The muscle memory of a superhuman under extreme stress released a terrifying amount of kinetic energy.
It was a force strong enough to crush an armored vehicle into scrap metal in the blink of an eye.
In the center of his vision, the blue text of the system interface lit up silently.
[Extremely high physical compression detected.]
[Passive Skill: Body of Steel (Hug State) fully activated.]
A strange, warm current instantly surged through Zack’s entire body.
His bone density and muscle fibers were reinforced to an unbelievable degree on a microscopic level.
The terrifying grip of Joanne’s arms was still there, but to Zack’s body, it felt like nothing more than a heavy, snug squeeze.
Zack stood perfectly steady, his breathing rhythm undisturbed.
He ran his right hand up the back of Joanne’s thin nightgown, resting his palm on her long blonde hair, which was fluttering slightly from static electricity.
He stroked it gently, slowly and rhythmically.
“Be good, put your heat vision away.
I’m making sweet and sour ribs tonight.”
Zack rested his chin on her head.
His voice was steady, carrying a calming power that could cut through any panic.
Joanne’s arms were still locked tightly behind Zack’s back, but the apocalyptic fury that seemed ready to destroy the world visibly crumbled under his gentle stroking.
The fearsome red flush around her eyes began to fade slowly.
The crimson magma deep in her pupils flickered a few times.
The energy that had gathered out of fear finally lost its fuel, reverting to a clear, azure blue.
The temperature in the living room receded like the tide.
Joanne buried her face in Zack’s chest, her hands clutching the fabric of his pajamas on his back.
In this messy, drafty living room, Zack’s steady heartbeat became the only sound in her ears.
[Current Emotion: Sense of Security]
[Psychological Defense: An irreversible dependency instinct on the Host has been formed.]
The system’s blue text immediately refreshed in his field of view.
[Target’s emotional fluctuations have triggered a deep nurturing milestone.]
[Capital Extraction Pool has triggered a Leap Mechanism…]
[Obtained Legitimate Funds: $120,000,000 USD]
[Note: The funds have been laundered through patent hedging and liquidation via offshore pharmaceutical conglomerates, and have been deposited in batches into the core account of Great Wall Capital under the Host’s name.]
One hundred and twenty million dollars.
This astronomical sum, vast enough to make waves on Wall Street, sat quietly in Zack’s system account.
Combined with his previously accumulated funds, he now held a sledgehammer capable of prying loose Vought International’s regional interests.
Zack remained calm.
Feeling the real warmth of the girl in his arms, he knew this money represented not just wealth, but a heavy weight of trust.
The embrace lasted for a long time.
It wasn’t until the cold night wind outside made him shiver slightly that Zack gently patted Joanne’s back.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Zack said with a hint of resignation.
“You’re about to tear my pajamas apart.
Besides, my stomach is already protesting.”
Joanne’s body stiffened.
She let go, stepping back half a pace.
A flush of embarrassment crept onto her pale face as she looked away, forcing a stern expression.
“As if I wanted to hug you…
I just didn’t want the room to smell like blood.”
She pointed at the glass shards on the carpet.
“And you’re the one who said you’d make sweet and sour ribs.
If they taste worse than last time, I’ll melt the rest of the load-bearing walls down anyway.”
Zack smiled at her stubbornness and turned to walk into the kitchen.
“Sit down on the sofa and don’t run around barefoot.
If you step on glass, I’m not responsible for picking the shards out.”
The kitchen ceiling light was switched on, its warm yellow glow dispelling the shadows in the corners.
Zack opened the freezer, pulled out a pre-prepared bag of pork ribs, and tossed them into the sink to thaw.
He clicked the gas stove on, the flames hissing softly.
As the heat rose, the rock sugar melted in the hot oil, releasing a rich, sweet caramel aroma.
Barefoot, Joanne carefully avoided the debris on the floor and walked to the island of the open kitchen.
She leaned her hands on the marble countertop, tilting her upper body slightly forward.
From this angle, she could see Zack methodically stir-frying the ribs in the wok.
The bright glow of the fire illuminated his calm face, highlighting his focused gaze.