Marvel: All My Incarnations Are S-Class Villainesses

Chapter 176: Chapter 176: Things of the Past

However... when they climbed to the twentieth floor or so, Sumire gently patted Reze’s shoulder.

”Put me down, Reze.”

”Hmm?”

Reze stopped in her tracks and looked back blankly. ”What’s wrong? I’m not tired.”

”I know you’re not tired, but I can’t keep relying on you guys forever.”

Sumire jumped down from Reze’s back, straightened her clothes, and put her hands on her hips, trying to show the dignity of being the ’head of the household.’ ”As the dignified main body, if word got out that I needed someone to carry me just to walk, where would I hide my face? Go help Sister Hua and the others move things; I can walk by myself.”

”But...”

Reze clearly didn’t want Sumire to exert herself and wanted to say more.

Smack!

A crisp sound rang out.

Sumire reached out and gave Reze’s perky bottom a slap.

”Go on! That’s an order!”

”Eek!”

Reze let out a startled cry, jumped away while clutching her bottom, and her face instantly turned red to the tips of her ears.

She glared at Sumire with mock annoyance, muttering with a mix of joy and reproach, ”Sumire-chan is so mean! Then... then I’ll head up first!”

With that, like a startled little rabbit, she clutched her bottom and ran quickly up the stairs.

Quiet returned to the stairwell once more.

Only Sumire remained.

”Phew... alright, keep it up Sumire, you can do this!”

She gave herself a pep talk and started climbing... however.

She soon realized she had overestimated herself.

”Ha... ha... these stairs... why... are they so long...”

After only five floors, Sumire was already starting to question her life choices.

So tired... her legs felt heavy as lead, and her lungs burned like a bellows.

Her physical stamina really wasn’t just ’bad’ in a normal way.

This might be a constitutional issue inherent to this body.

As a former man, she had naturally thought about exercising to improve her self-defense capabilities after transmigrating. But no matter how she trained, this body was like a sieve—whatever she put in leaked right out. Aside from her figure becoming more attractive, her strength and endurance showed almost zero growth.

Forget martial arts or karate; with her current level, if she entered a children’s division competition, she’d probably get chased and beaten by elementary schoolers.

Therefore, Sumire still couldn’t figure out how the version of herself that Fisk described as ’almost solo-killing Wilson Fisk’ had actually done it.

With these tiny arms and legs?

Could it be that in a state of extreme rage, a person really could kill a tiger with a sliding tackle?

The human body is truly mysterious... Just as Sumire leaned against the handrail, gasping for air and feeling like her soul was about to leave her body.

A steady set of footsteps approached from below.

Sumire looked back to see a blonde girl wearing a very ugly green scarf walking up step by step.

It was Annie.

Even after climbing over twenty floors, her expression remained unchanged, her heart wasn’t racing, and her breathing wasn’t even slightly disturbed.

”Ah... Annie?”

Sumire waved breathlessly. ”You’re back? How was... S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy?”

Annie stopped and looked at Sumire, who was dripping with sweat and leaning against the wall as if she were about to slide down, and remained silent for a moment.

”Average.”

She spoke indifferently, her hand brushing the scarf around her neck. ”Home is still better.”

Having said that, she didn’t rush off. Instead, she looked at Sumire with those calm blue eyes.

”Sister Modie... do you need me to carry you?”

”No... no need!”

Sumire waved her hand stubbornly again, trying to straighten her slender waist. ”I... I need to get some exercise too... You go up first.”

Annie nodded.

She wasn’t the type to engage in polite social pleasantries or forced concern.

Since the other person said no, she wouldn’t ask further.

”Okay.”

Leaving behind a simple word, Annie nimbly bypassed Sumire and walked quickly up the stairs without any hesitation.

”...”

Watching Annie’s disappearing back, Sumire wanted to cry but had no tears.

This child... why doesn’t she know how to be polite for a few more sentences?

At a time like this, you should insist a bit!

Finally.

After enduring a long climb that felt like it had no end.

Sumire practically crawled to the top floor on all fours, completely abandoning any sense of image.

By now, her legs were as soft as noodles, stars danced before her eyes, and she was coughing and dry-heaving as her vision began to blur.

In her daze.

The scene before her eyes seemed to distort.

The luxurious corridor vanished, replaced by a mottled, peeling wall.

She seemed to see... the past—

Christmas, 2021.

Back then, she didn’t have the Villainess Simulation Game, and she didn’t have these Incarnations.

That night, heavy snow was falling outside. All of New York was celebrating, and neon lights dyed the night sky crimson.

In a dark, cheap apartment corridor in Hell’s Kitchen.

A weary figure wearing a convenience store uniform stood before a door.

She was shivering from the cold, holding a small, discounted, near-expiry cake.

That was the Sumire of the past.

She knew no one was behind the door—only a deathly silent darkness and cold—so she wasn’t in a hurry to take out her keys, and there wasn’t a hint of anticipation in her eyes.

As for that shabby little cake... it was because today was actually her ’birthday’.

Yes, the same day as Christmas.

But it wasn’t because of some coincidence.

It was simply because the transmigrated Sumire was an orphan and had no idea what day she had been born.

On the day she first successfully escaped the orphanage, to celebrate her new student, she set a birthday for herself in her heart—December 25th.

”Since it’s the day Jesus was born, I might as well join the fun.”

Back then, the chuunibyou teenage girl Sumire had thought quite arrogantly while gnawing on dry, hard bread:

”Anyway, except for not having those two holes in my palms, I’m not much different from Jesus. We’re both here in this world to suffer.”

And so, she set her birthday on that day.

It was just that this year she was so busy making trouble and pitting her wits against S.H.I.E.L.D. that she had almost forgotten about it herself.

Sumire lowered her head.

On the worn-out doormat sat an anonymous delivery box.

Of course, it wasn’t a surprise from some secret admirer, but a gift she had bought for herself online with her newly received wages.

She had specifically requested it be left there.

On this lonely holiday, one had to find a little fun for oneself, right?

She squatted down and opened the box with frozen fingers.

By the dim yellow light of the corridor, she saw what was inside—

It was a... purple... ”Cough...”

Sumire’s cheeks instantly turned bright red, and she looked around like a thief.

After making sure no one was there, she quickly stuffed that embarrassing thing back into her pocket.

”Phew... it’s really cold.”

She exhaled a breath of white mist and inserted the key into the lock with trembling hands.

Click.

The door opened.

What used to greet her was a rush of cold wind and a chillingly empty room.

However—

The moment the door was pushed open.

The originally dilapidated and dark rental house shattered instantly.

In its place was spring-like warmth from the heater, dazzling lights, and the aroma of food that almost overflowed.

Sumire finally snapped out of her brief flashback.

She stood at the entrance of the top floor of Fisk Tower, staring at the scene before her, rooted to the spot.

The spacious and luxurious hall had already undergone a complete transformation.

”I’m... home!”

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