Returning to her rented room and collapsing onto her bed, Daisy felt utterly exhausted.
Deceiving a trained S.H.I.E.L.D.
agent was something neither her previous life as an unsuccessful web novelist nor the original Daisy’s life as a hacker had ever prepared her for.
The adrenaline that had carried her through the operation had faded, leaving behind only lingering fear.
As the tension disappeared, fatigue crashed over her.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed.
She was undeniably attractive, yet after several days of neglect, she looked considerably less radiant.
The truth was, she had no idea how to style herself, and the original Daisy’s memories offered little practical guidance.
Other transmigrators awoke to dramatic scenes—a slap across the face, a beautiful maid, or the sounds of battle.
She had awakened to something much stranger.
The scent of her own body.
The original Daisy had left the orphanage at the age of ten and passed through four foster families in succession.
Each household received government subsidies while paying her school tuition.
It was a purely practical arrangement, and the relationships remained as distant as those between strangers.
She had spent years living in poverty, saving every dollar to buy a second-hand laptop.
She had never had money for luxuries, and since the church school strictly prohibited perfume, the conclusion was unavoidable.
The fragrance that had awakened her was simply her natural scent.
Fortunately, it was subtle, and she gradually grew accustomed to it.
Survival came first.
Everything else could wait.
The hardest part was over.
The obelisk was finally hers.
The only remaining witness—Sitwell—had returned home expecting promotion and recognition.
After taking a sip of water to calm herself, Daisy opened her backpack.
The obelisk rested silently inside.
Anyone without Inhuman blood would be turned to stone upon touching it.
Now came the moment of truth.
Although she believed there was more than a fifty percent chance she truly was an Inhuman, uncertainty remained.
She had no intention of becoming a stone statue.
Knife in hand, she prepared to sever her little finger immediately if petrification began.
She stuffed a towel into her mouth to muffle any screams.
“I can do this.
Nothing will go wrong.” She spent nearly ten minutes gathering the courage before finally reaching forward.
Ten centimeters.
Five.
One.
Her fingertip hovered only a hair’s breadth from the obelisk.
Closing her eyes for a split second, she steeled herself and pressed down.
Her eyes flew open.
She stared at her finger and the obelisk without blinking.
Nothing happened.
No petrification.
The obelisk merely felt slightly warm.
Still unconvinced, she wrapped her entire left hand around it.
Nothing changed.
Neither the obelisk nor her body reacted.
“I knew it…” Overwhelmed with relief but careful not to wake her roommates, she buried her face in her pillow and silently celebrated.
It took a long time before her racing heart finally settled.
Now that she had confirmed her heritage and secured the obelisk, only one step remained.
The Terrigenesis ritual.
Ancient Inhuman society had extremely strict standards.
Only those with exceptional genetic potential awakened extraordinary powers.
The stronger the genes, the greater the ability—although the transformation also placed immense strain on the body.
What hidden genetic flaw had the Quake of the original timeline inherited?
Daisy had no idea.
She simply chose to believe her genes were resilient enough.
At this point in time, Tony Stark was still selling Jericho missiles.
The events that would eventually lead Quake to the underground city in Puerto Rico were still at least four years away.
She had accelerated her own destiny.
The price of abandoning the original timeline was obvious.
She was completely alone.
Bluffing with Whitehall’s reputation had worked once.
She had no intention of gambling against experienced agents again.
She would have to travel to Puerto Rico alone, locate the hidden underground city, and awaken her bloodline.
Thousands of miles away.
Armed with nothing more than a stun gun.
No matter how she looked at it, the plan hardly inspired confidence.
Although her appearance combined softness with quiet determination, she still needed to remain cautious.
Drunks and bigots could be found anywhere.
Puerto Rico continually sought closer integration with the United States, yet many areas remained economically disadvantaged, and public safety was far from guaranteed.
She needed practical means of self-defense.
That made obtaining a firearm her highest priority.
After counting her money, she discovered she had only nine hundred dollars remaining after her recent operation.
The trip would have to wait.
Whatever came next, earning more money was essential.
Daisy was an excellent hacker, but the era when hackers could freely manipulate banking systems had long since passed.
Attempting it now would be suicide.
Fortunately, she was also an excellent programmer.
The following day, she accepted a freelance contract to develop a database entry system.
She attended classes during the day and spent every night programming until dawn.
After seven exhausting days, she earned three thousand dollars.
Her first stop was a gun store.
Rifles, hunting rifles, and shotguns were relatively easy to purchase.
Most were sold in semi-automatic configurations with reduced magazine capacities, requiring little more than valid identification.
Handguns, however, were subject to much stricter regulations.
Applicants first needed approval before they could purchase one.
New York allowed eighteen-year-olds to own long guns, but handguns required buyers to be at least twenty-one.
Since Daisy had only recently turned eighteen, carrying a rifle across Puerto Rico was hardly practical.
Nor could she legally transport firearms on a plane or ship.
She had no magical storage space to solve the problem.
Even if she purchased a weapon now, she would have to obtain another solution after arriving.
Buying a firearm was difficult.
Learning to use one was much easier.
Large gun stores offered shooting ranges, while specialized clubs provided everything from firearm selection to professional instruction.
All a customer needed was money and a willingness to learn.
She found a large chain store, presented her identification, completed the paperwork, rented a handgun, purchased two boxes of ammunition, two paper targets, and reserved a shooting lane.
The handgun rental cost ten dollars.
The ammunition cost thirty-two.
The targets cost one dollar.
The lane rental cost eighteen.
After a brief hesitation, she also hired a professional instructor for sixty-eight dollars per hour.
She devoted every spare moment to practice for the next two weeks.
It became increasingly obvious why the future Quake would eventually become Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Her physical condition exceeded that of an average person.
Her eyesight was sharper.
Her reflexes were faster.
Even before awakening her powers, her natural abilities already placed her well above ordinary people.
The training cost roughly three hundred dollars, most of it spent on ammunition.
She was far from an expert marksman, but she felt confident she could defend herself against ordinary opponents.
Next, she borrowed X-ray equipment from a small factory.
The obelisk once again demonstrated its extraordinary nature.
It was completely invisible under X-rays, as though nothing occupied the space at all.
Only then did Daisy finally relax.
Dressed in practical travel clothes, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, and carrying her backpack, she said goodbye to Angela.
She told the school she was taking leave to search for her long-lost parents.
The explanation was readily accepted, and she was granted one month’s leave.
After a four-hour flight, her plane landed at Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
Her first priority was finding accommodation.
Although Spanish was the island’s primary language, English was also an official language.
It did not take long for Daisy to check into a local hotel that advertised itself as the safest in the area.