Chapter 54: Chapter 51: We Go & Boom!
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Sometimes, dealing with Nicole felt like taking care of an overenthusiastic child.
Nicole grabbed Alice's hand, shaking it wildly as she pouted and whined, "Nooo~~ Alice, my dearest Alice, just help me out! I can't sleep if I don't figure this out~~ This school is so expensive! Every second wasted feels like burning money!"
Alice sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated.
"Alright, alright. Let me see."
She pushed Nicole off gently and sat in the chair, focusing on the calculus problem Nicole had been struggling with.
Meanwhile, Nicole, standing nearby, noticed the small bag still clutched in Alice's hand. Curious, she reached in and pulled out a small piece of chocolate.
Unwrapping it, she popped half of it into her mouth with a satisfying crunch.
As she chewed, something about the packaging caught her eye. It looked strangely familiar, like she'd seen it somewhere online before.
Frowning, Nicole grabbed her phone and did a quick search.
Edible gold packaging. Black truffle-infused. Retail price: $2.6k per piece.
She stared at the screen.
"Oh, wait—there's a typo," she thought.
But as she double-checked, her heart sank.
The decimal hadn't moved.
$2.6k per piece.
Her brain short-circuited for a full second.
Then she let out a dramatic wail, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Whaaaaa—what is this!!"
With trembling hands, she held up the half-eaten chocolate and offered it back to Alice, her voice quivering with guilt and desperation.
"Alice! I'm so sorry! I'll give you back the other half, okay? Can you… can you give me a discount or something?"
Nicole's eyes shimmered with tears, her voice breaking as she chewed reluctantly, unable to spit it out but also unable to swallow the $1.3k bite she'd just taken.
"Ughhh… I just ate a smartphone…"
Alice finally looked up from the math problem, bewildered by Nicole's outburst.
"What's wrong? Is it that good? Are you crying because it's that delicious?"
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Alice lay in her bed, her Mickey Mouse-print blanket tucked around her as she stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
She couldn't stop thinking about it.
The bag of snacks Lemu had casually handed her, apparently just "leftovers", was worth tens of thousands of dollars.
Even the small designer bag it came in was more expensive than an entire year's tuition.
Holding it in her hands had felt like holding fire.
Alice sighed, flipping onto her side, her thoughts swirling.
How could she possibly return something like this?
She had no way of contacting Lemu—no phone number, no address, not even a full name. The only thing she knew was that she'd met her through Tony Stark.
For now, all she could do was wait.
Wait for her to reach out first.
The night was serene, the stars scattered like diamonds across the velvet sky.
From above the cloud layer, the starlight seemed impossibly bright, a brilliance that felt almost surreal.
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Two armored suits streaked across the heavens like missiles, their powerful reactors roaring as they tore through the sound barrier. Each left behind the distinct conical clouds of sonic booms.
One suit gleamed in blue and white—Lemu's Ghost-1.
The other shone in red and gold—Tony Stark's Mark III.
Cruising at a steady Mach 2.3, the pair faced a long journey ahead. It would take roughly five hours to reach Afghanistan.
By the time they arrived, it would be around 3 p.m. local time.
For Lemu, Afghanistan was a place of mixed emotions—both familiar and distant.
It was on this very land of sand and stone that he had reentered the world, where his second life on Earth began.
As he gazed down at the endless expanse of golden desert, a fleeting sense of nostalgia flickered in his heart.
But the feeling didn't last long.
The sight of refugees scattered across the landscape quickly washed it away.
The further they flew, the grimmer the scene below became.
At first, there were small clusters of three or four people, but soon they saw long, winding lines of displaced civilians.
Men, women, and children trudged through the desert.
Their clothes were torn, their faces gaunt and sunburnt, their eyes filled with either fear or numb resignation. Under the relentless scorching sun, they pressed forward, step by agonizing step.
Not long after, the horizon revealed another scene of despair.
In the distance, smoke billowed into the air from a small town, the sound of gunfire and explosions echoing faintly even at their altitude.
Amidst the chaos, some townsfolk—cleaner and better dressed—were running frantically across the wasteland.
This was Kamira, a town that had recently fallen under the control of the Ten Rings, a terrorist group notorious for its cruelty.
The townspeople fleeing the carnage?
If their luck didn't hold, they too would eventually join the endless ranks of refugees.
Lemu's heart grew heavy as he surveyed the dire scene below, his thoughts momentarily wandering.
For Stark, this mission was about atonement, about righting the wrongs that had stained his company's name.
But for Lemu, it was simpler.
There was something about watching suffering from above—detached and distant—that didn't sit right with him.
This wasn't a video game. These were real lives, real people, living on the razor's edge between survival and death.
As the town of Kamira loomed closer, Lemu shifted his attention back to Stark, the golden-red streak flying beside him.
"Tony," Lemu called through the comms, his voice steady but firm, "what's the plan once we touch down?"
For a moment, there was only static, then Stark's voice crackled through.
"We go in hard, we hit them fast, and we don't stop until they're down."
Lemu smirked behind his helmet.
Simple and efficient.
But then again, with Iron Man, would you expect anything less?
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