"All we can do is try to minimise the chances of further conflict between both sides, so that they can coexist peacefully," said Fury, pressing both hands against the desk, his expression clouded. "But the doctor was never meant to be caught up in any of this. I was the one who personally brought him in."
"He's not like us."
"We chose this path years ago. No matter how difficult it is, it was still our decision. But the doctor… he never made that choice."
"Right now, I don't care whether he's a mutant or not. Whether he is or he isn't… I don't want anyone to think he is. That's what I intend."
As Fury spoke, his lone eye locked firmly onto Hill's, the weight of his words unmistakable.
Unconsciously, he had begun referring to her as "Agent Hill" again—just a single word more, but one that carried a very different meaning.
Clap, clap, clap.
"Perfect," Hill said with a sudden smile, applauding.
Fury, previously so grave, burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Enough of these heavy topics. I heard there's a new sushi place on Rose Avenue. Come on, it's my treat!"
---
Ray had no idea what Hill had said to Director Weaver, but whatever it was, it worked. After their conversation, Weaver had swiftly approved his placement in the Combat Division and even granted him broad autonomy.
She went so far as to promise that, so long as his requests weren't too outrageous, the academy would do its best to meet them.
But Ray wasn't the type to push his luck.
The fact that Hill had helped him out of a serious bind was enough. He wasn't about to make unreasonable demands.
After escorting him to the highest-grade faculty apartment the academy could offer, Hill left to report back to HQ.
Ray now had his first real "home" in this world.
"Phewwww…"
After seeing off Weaver and Hill, Ray jumped onto the bed and collapsed on his back, stretching his limbs and letting out a long, relieved sigh.
Thinking back on the past few days, the experience had been easily a hundred times more intense than his former life as a private investigator.
Despite the many times he had danced on the edge of danger, there wasn't a shred of fear in his heart—only a deep, indescribable thrill.
It was simply in his nature to resist a quiet life.
Otherwise, after leaving the military in his previous life, he wouldn't have turned down the stable job offered by his old commanding officer to start his own detective agency.
Of course, being a private investigator in his home country was a legal grey area, so officially, it was a "consulting" firm.
But once he got into the business, he realised it wasn't quite what he expected. Most of the cases were emotional disputes. A juicy inheritance battle was considered a lucky break. The really exciting cases were few and far between.
And none of them compared to what he'd just gone through: the walking time bomb named David, the deadly tug-of-war between Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D., and that deranged old puppetmaster, the Shadow King, who nearly drove him insane…
One event after another had come crashing down like a rollercoaster ride.
Still, after several days on high alert, he was understandably exhausted.
For the first time, he was truly at ease—physically and mentally.
He could finally lie down like a beached fish, empty his mind, and relax.
---
Thirty minutes later.
Ray opened his eyes again, frustrated.
"Guess I'm not cut out to be a lazy fish…"
He had tried to empty his mind, but the more he tried, the more it raced. His thoughts spun out of control.
And the one idea that kept surfacing again and again was—composite score.
Yes, the stat that determined how long an alter ego could remain active.
He hadn't had time to fully explore the "new user guide" the night before—he'd been far too tired.
But this morning, it had been the first thing he read.
And that's when he discovered that the system had several small, overlooked functions—some of which could directly increase his composite score!
Until now, the only features he'd noticed were exchanging universal points for character cards, and [Equipment Materialisation], which was clearly tied to the combat strength of alter egos.
But there was another option: [Total Immersion].
Its name was vague enough to slip right past him. If not for the user guide, he never would have figured out what it did.
Now, he understood the basics—but he still had to try it to truly grasp its potential.
"Alright, let's give this a shot… System, activate the [Total Immersion] function!"
A message appeared in his mind:
> ["Total Immersion" function activated. Please select a scenario.]
"Select: Kuro's first basic combat lesson."
> [Kuro is a Bronze-tier alter ego. Activating "Total Immersion" will consume 10 universal points. Proceed?]
[Yes / No]
"Yes!"
Whoosh—
As soon as he confirmed, darkness swallowed his vision. He couldn't see a thing.
Then came a sudden sensation of falling, and gradually, light returned.
"What the—?!"
When he finally saw his surroundings, he was stunned.
He was no longer in the high-end faculty apartment assigned to him by Weaver.
He was… on a large, slightly worn, and swaying ship.
The air smelled of salt and brine—he was clearly out at sea.