Frank's matter was over, at least it had nothing to do with her anymore.
She didn't know that from her "car wash" until the final visit, Frank had been silently observing her the whole way.
He scrutinized her age, appearance, height, and methods of doing things.
After she walked away, Frank dialed a number.
On the other end, a deep voice said, "Old friend, I've heard about your situation, and I'm very sorry. There was no warning beforehand. Just tell me what you need me to do."
Frank remained expressionless. After a long time, he said hoarsely, "Don't concern yourself with my business."
His words carried several meanings: he was refusing the other party's help and also didn't want any official interference.
The person on the other end understood his meaning. "Alright, I promise you."
Both sides fell silent. Just as the other party was about to hang up, Frank spoke again, "Nick, I saw a woman who meets your adjutant's standards."
"I've already found a candidate," the other party refused him in a firm tone.
"I'm giving you the information; whether you use it or not is up to you." Frank quickly rattled off a lot of identifying information, then hung up the phone, looked at the white clouds, and felt an endless sorrow in his heart as he thought of his family.
Daisy didn't know that her information had been noted down by someone with intentions. Being poor, she really didn't know where to go, so she could only return to school.
However, after staying for ten minutes, she ran out again.
She and these girls were naturally at odds. Her previous self might have been more restrained, but now with her powers, she could even take on the Russian mafia. A few girls were nothing!
Daisy's everyday attire consisted of cropped pants, short socks, and canvas shoes, revealing a bit of ankle. This made her legs look longer and added a touch of slenderness. Ten years later, everyone on the street, male or female, would dress like this, so she found it perfectly normal.
But in the eyes of those girls, she seemed very unconventional. They were still in the era of baggy pants, hip-hop style, long socks, and platform shoes.
A certain girl felt that her clothing didn't conform to school regulations and wanted to teach her "rules."
Daisy slapped her hard across the face, then, relying on her powerful physical fitness, knocked down a group of people with a few punches and kicks, and walked out with her bag.
Strolling down the street, she rummaged through her wallet again. Did she really have to get a job?
Facing the bustling streets of Manhattan, watching the crowds come and go, she was momentarily unsure where to go.
Walking towards the convenience store where her black friend worked, Daisy had no qualms about asking her best friend to treat her to a good meal for lunch.
Just as she passed a street corner, she saw four women frantically running out of a Japanese restaurant, with more men chasing them, armed with knives and clubs.
Daisy could only understand a few words, like "baka" (idiot), but the rest of the Japanese was like gibberish to her.
And, coincidentally, her position was right in the path of the fleeing group.
The woman leading the escape desperately gestured for her to run away quickly.
The Japanese men behind them were shouting loudly.
The Hand? Her first reaction was the Hand, but they didn't look like it. The Japanese men didn't seem to have undergone rigorous training; their steps were unsteady, and their breathing was erratic, looking more like they had been drained by alcohol and women.
The leading woman's clothes were disheveled, and her face was still quite pretty, though she had a slap mark on her face and blood at the corner of her mouth. Yet, she continued to run outwards. The remaining women were all in various states of disarray.
"Baka!" A man with a buzz cut grabbed the hair of the woman who was lagging behind, violently pulling her down, and raised the baseball bat in his hand to strike her.
It was no longer appropriate for Daisy to just watch the show. She flew forward, kicked the buzz-cut man away, picked up his baseball bat. She didn't have much combat skill, but with her enhanced physical fitness, dealing with a few Japanese men was easy.
With a combination of smashing and kicking, the Japanese men were no match, lying scattered all over the ground.
"Run!" Seeing more people about to rush out, Daisy also heard the sound of a gun being cocked.
She quickly urged the women to run with her.
As a native of Hell's Kitchen, she was very familiar with the local terrain. She led the Japanese women through twists and turns, evading their pursuers, and only then did she stop.
"We're safe for now." She could run non-stop for an entire day in the underground city; this amount of exercise was not even a warm-up for her, but for the Japanese women, it was high-intensity exercise.
The women hugged each other, still unable to believe they had been rescued.
The leading woman looked at Daisy with a hint of adoration. She stammered her thanks in English, bowing after each sentence.
Daisy could only nod in return. The woman's English wasn't very good, but through a combination of words and gestures, she finally understood the whole story.
It must be said that the Japanese are ruthless to outsiders and to their own people. Several college students chasing the American dream were tricked into coming here to become "unfathomable."
They realized something was wrong and took off running.
As a result, they were discovered just as they reached the door. They struggled to move the clutter at the entrance, and by the time they ran out, pursuers were already behind them. If Daisy hadn't been there today, they would surely have been dragged back, and a severe beating would have been unavoidable, with even more tragic consequences to follow.
Daisy asked the leading woman with a hint of surprise, "You said your name is Maki? Matsumoto Maki?"
"Yes, my previous name is too shameful to mention. I now go by this name. Please take care of me," Matsumoto Maki bowed again.
"What did you major in? Did you graduate?"
"Law."
Daisy was a little surprised; this person would also be a celebrity in the future.
Matsumoto Maki, lawyer, "unfathomable"—all three characteristics fit. If Daisy hadn't been there today, she would have witnessed Bullseye, Kingpin's subordinate, wantonly hacking people to death sometime in the future, and from then on, she would have become madly obsessed with Bullseye, calling herself Lady Bullseye.
Although she couldn't compare to Quake's status, she was still a second-tier character.
However, without that experience now, whether she could transform into a cold-blooded killer was a question mark.
Daisy escorted the women to the Japanese embassy. As for whether they would return home or what would happen next, it had nothing to do with her.
The remaining three Japanese women bowed and thanked her, each leaving her their address, hoping that if she ever went to Japan, they could have a chance to thank her properly.
Only Matsumoto Maki remained in place, unmoving. She bowed deeply to Daisy.
"Something wrong?" She was now very afraid that the other party would ask her for money; that would be too awkward.
"Miss Johnson, I am willing to stay and become your retainer!" Her voice was very loud, and the other Japanese women who hadn't gone far, as well as the consul, all showed an expression of "I knew it."
Daisy looked at her weirdly. What era was this? A retainer?
She waved her hands repeatedly. "I'm just an ordinary person, there's nothing worth pledging allegiance to. You should follow the consul's arrangements and return home. Your parents are probably worried about you."
Matsumoto Maki bowed again, "I am a disgrace to my family, blind to talent, a fool who only dreams. Please take me in!"
Another ninety-degree bow, and then she didn't get up