Marvel: All My Incarnations Are S-Class Villainesses

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: I Hate Drama Queens!

Almost at the same time.

Reze, who had been sitting on the edge of the bed swinging her legs, suddenly stopped her movements.

”Hey! You’re being way too heartless!”

She turned her head, her beautiful eyes becoming watery and her mouth pouting as she pointed at Sumire and began her accusation.

”I just risked my life to blow that guy away and snatch this back! It’s one thing if you don’t praise me, but you’re actually complaining that I was too heavy-handed?”

”That was Iron Man! If I hadn’t gone all out, we’d be eating prison food in a S.H.I.E.L.D. jail right now! You heartless scumbag girl who forgets her partner as soon as the deed is done!”

Reze spoke with increasing grievance, even managing to squeeze out two convincing tears, looking exactly like a young wife abandoned by a fickle husband.

Sumire held her forehead, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Seriously, she hated drama Queens!

Putting aside the fact that Reze, as a Weapon Human, was nearly immortal and very hard to kill... she had only just realized that deep down in her own heart, there was such a massive drama queen hidden away!

This Incarnation of Reze simply magnified the ’dramatic’ and ’crazy’ parts of her personality that she usually didn’t dare to show by tenfold!

”Alright, alright, my mistake. Reze is the best, Reze is the great hero.”

Sumire could only raise her hands in surrender like she was coaxing a child, ”Five it is then, I just won’t recycle it.”

This thing definitely couldn’t be sold to the shop; the loss would be too great.

Sell it to the Military? Hammer Industries or the mob? No, the former was too risky, and as for the latter... she looked down on them... but she couldn’t keep it in her hands either; it was a hot potato.

Sumire glanced at her panel.

「villainess value: 319 points」

「simulation value: 168 points」

She had over three hundred villainess value points, but they could only be used to pull new Incarnations, so these 319 points had to be saved as her ’waifu fund’.

The simulation value was only 168 points, which couldn’t buy any powerful abilities, but she could look for some cost-effective small items.

She searched through the shop for a while and spent 50 simulation value points to exchange for a bottle of pale green potion.

「Junior Constitution Improvement Potion」

「Effect: Slightly increases the stamina of any body.」

Sumire tilted her head back and drank it.

「Stamina: 1→2 (Barely Human)」

A warm current instantly flowed through her entire body, and the constant fatigue and joint aches that had accompanied her for years actually lessened significantly.

Although she was still a hundred thousand miles away from a Super Soldier like Captain America, at least she wasn’t like a frail Lin Daiyu anymore.

”As for that two million, it has to be spent where it counts.”

Sumire made a decision.

”Move! We must move immediately! The commotion lately has been too big; Hells Kitchen is no longer safe.”

”As for this pile of scrap metal...”

Sumire looked at the pile of Mark 5 wreckage, and suddenly thinking of something, her lips curled into a mischievous smirk, ”Reze, I’ll have to trouble you to make a trip.”

...Half an hour later.

On the edge of Hells Kitchen, at a filthy shop with a sign hanging that read ’Old John’s Scrap Recycling’.

”Thud!” A heavy lump of red and silver metal was tossed heavily onto the grease-covered scale.

Old John, who was minding the shop while wearing reading glasses and reading a newspaper, was startled by the noise.

He looked up and saw a beautiful purple-haired girl wearing a choker, standing at the door with one hand in her pocket.

”What’s this thing?”

Old John squinted his eyes, sizing up the lump of metal that was still emitting a burnt smell, ”Looks like... some kind of machine? It even has red paint, looks pretty high-end.”

Reze didn’t bat an eye, even chewing a piece of gum as she said nonchalantly, ”Oh, it’s a bread maker my cousin made by hand.”

”You can see the result...” Reze pointed at the pile of scrap metal and shrugged, ”It almost set the house on fire, so I brought it to sell. How much will you give me?”

”A bread maker? This big?” Old John muttered.

”Aluminum alloy, right? Fine, it looks heavy enough.” Although he felt the shape looked a bit familiar, Old John didn’t think much of it. In Hells Kitchen, let alone scrap metal, he had seen people sell blood-stained knives. ”Fifty dollars, not a cent more.”

”Deal.” Reze snatched the fifty dollars, blew a bubble, and turned to leave.

She didn’t care about these few dozen dollars.

What mattered was that ten minutes later, this pile of Mark 5 wreckage was thrown into a hydraulic press by Old John, crushed into a perfectly square metal block, and mixed in with a pile of scrapped refrigerators and microwaves.

If Tony saw this scene, his expression would surely be magnificent... On the other side, Queens.

Although it wasn’t as prosperous as Manhattan, the public security was decent, and more importantly—this was Spider-Man Peter Parker’s territory.

Of course, little Spidey was still several years away from making his debut, but regardless, this could be considered a blessed land.

Sumire was extremely efficient.

Since she had two million in cash, there was no need to mistreat herself.

She directly rented a fully furnished apartment on a high floor.

A spacious living room, floor-to-ceiling windows, a soft large bed, and a separate walk-in closet.

Just the deposit and rent alone cost tens of thousands, but Sumire didn’t even blink.

Is this what it feels like to be filthy rich?

It feels damn good!

After settling the house, she rushed into a shopping shop for a massive shopping spree.

It wasn’t until evening that Sumire returned to her new home carrying large and small bags.

”Click.”

The door opened.

Reze, who had returned long ago, was sitting cross-legged on the newly bought leather sofa, holding a freshly bought cup of coffee and watching TV.

Seeing Sumire return, her eyes lit up, and she pounced over like a kitten waiting to be fed, rummaging through the bags in Sumire’s hands: ”What did you buy? New clothes? I want to change into some new clothes!”

It was impossible for her not to know what Sumire had bought, but as the bags were opened one by one, the anticipation on Reze’s face visibly turned into disdain.

Black hoodies, black cargo pants, dark blue denim jackets, grey sneakers... all dark colors, all loose-fitting styles.

Forget about skirts; there wasn’t even a single piece of clothing that showed off a figure.

”Su! Mo! Die!”

Reze picked up a pitch-black windbreaker and looked at the main body with a face full of disbelief:

”Are you planning to attend a funeral? Or are you planning to become a ninja?”

”We have two million now! Two million! And you bought this street-stall junk?”

”Where are the skirts? The stockings? The high heels? Where are those pretty little camisoles?” Reze stamped her feet in anger, pointing at Sumire’s face: ”Do you even realize you’re a beautiful girl?!”

Sumire shrunk her neck a bit guiltily and weakly retorted: ”I... I’m not used to it!”

”I used to be a man. After transmigrating, no one taught me how to wear a skirt... and in a place like Hells Kitchen, the more low-profile and scruffy you dress, the safer you are. If I encounter danger, these clothes make it easier to run away...”

This was the truth.

In the eighteen years since transmigrating, for the sake of survival, she had always been as rough as possible.

Aside from not being able to pee standing up, in her subconscious, she still raised herself like a man.

”That was before!”

Reze threw the windbreaker aside, hands on her hips, looking at her with a ’disappointed in her lack of ambition’ expression: ”Now you have me! Whoever dares to touch you, I’ll blow them away!”