Klaue turned around and walked ahead, gesturing for Kuro to follow.
"Come on. You did say you want all the stock, right?" he said without looking back.
Kuro and Kama followed behind.
They passed through narrow corridors inside the ship, their footsteps echoing against the cold metal walls. Dim lights flickered faintly, making the atmosphere feel more enclosed… and secretive.
Finally, Klaue stopped in front of a large cargo container.
He knocked twice.
duk. duk.
Then casually unlocked it.
The iron door slowly opened.
creeeak…
Inside were neatly arranged large glass cylinders.
And within them, a deep dark bluish metallic sheen could be seen—raw Vibranium, in significant quantity, around one hundred and twenty-five kilograms.
Leaning casually by the entrance, Klaue rested one shoulder against the metal frame, looking at Kuro with a faint, meaningful smile.
"Welcome to my finest collection," he said, his tone full of pride. "Not everyone gets to see this."
He lifted a hand and lightly tapped one of the metal cylinders.
"Pure Vibranium. Untouched by processing," he continued. "Straight from a source that… shouldn't even be reachable."
He paused for a moment.
His gaze locked onto Kuro again.
"…and now," he said quietly, his voice lowered, "you say you want to take everything."
His smile slowly narrowed—sharp, calculated.
"So…" he tilted his head slightly, "…is your gold enough to pay for this?"
Without turning, without explanation—Kuro snapped his fingers.
click.
The air beside him rippled.
A faint gray distortion opened—like space itself was being forced to fold.
BOOM.
Five large crates dropped onto the metal floor with a heavy impact. Deep. Not just loud—but dense.
Their hinges trembled slightly, producing a restrained metallic sound.
The floor vibrated faintly.
Several men instinctively stopped moving.
Others turned sharply.
Kuro remained silent.
Calm.
"Open it," he said briefly.
One of the henchmen stepped forward. Hesitant. But still obeyed.
click.
The first crate opened.
A golden glow immediately reflected out—dense, overflowing, overwhelming the vision.
Stacks of coins.
Thousands.
The second crate, and the rest, were the same.
No difference.
Silence.
A complete, suffocating silence.
Even breathing sounded too clear.
Kuro only turned slightly.
"Still not enough?" he asked flatly.
No answer.
Ulysses Klaue's gaze was fixed.
Not only on the gold piled before him—but on the way it had appeared.
Several seconds passed in oppressive silence.
Then—his smile slowly returned.
He laughed.
Quietly.
Lower. Heavier.
"…Okay," he murmured softly, almost as if speaking to himself. "Now I get it."
He stepped closer, then knelt beside one of the crates.
His hand picked up a gold bar.
He lifted it.
Weighed it in his palm.
"Real. Solid. Clean."
His tone was casual.
But his eyes—weren't smiling.
Klaue stood back up.
Looked directly at Kuro.
There was a brief pause—almost imperceptible—but enough to reveal one thing: he was thinking fast.
Calculating.
Evaluating.
And starting to be careful.
"…you're not a regular buyer," he said quietly.
He let out a short breath.
His smile widened again—but thin at the edges, like a line stretched too tight.
"And I'm smart enough not to say 'not enough' after this."
A few of his men let out nervous chuckles.
Klaue didn't.
His gaze stayed locked on Kuro.
"Deal."
His hand patted one of the crates lightly.
"All the Vibranium here—now yours."
Silence fell again.
Klaue narrowed his eyes slightly.
A thin layer of sweat began to form at his temple—barely visible, but enough to show one thing: for the first time in a long while, he wasn't completely in control.
Kuro finally smiled faintly.
"Deal."
His tone remained flat.
No negotiation.
No objection.
Only certainty.
Ding!
At that exact moment, a system notification appeared in front of Kuro, visible only to him.
[Due to excessive expenditure, you have unlocked the System Exchange function]
[Explanation: With Gold Coins, you can exchange for local currency used in the world the Host visits, as well as create an identity.]
Seeing the notification, Kuro's pupils widened slightly in surprise.
The next moment, his smile slowly widened.
"And… let's change this transaction. Not a one-time deal," he continued calmly, "if you still have more Vibranium, prepare it within two days. I will return."
Silence fell briefly.
Klaue stared straight at Kuro.
Then—he laughed.
Short. Satisfied.
"Two days, huh?" he said, as if weighing it. "If I can get more stock…"
He pointed toward the crates of gold.
"…you pay at the same standard."
His tone shifted slightly more serious.
"And don't just disappear. I don't like being disappointed, especially after seeing this."
He patted one of the crates again.
thud.
Then, without really waiting for a response—
"Come back in two days," he said casually. "I'll prepare something worthy of a client like you."
His smile narrowed.
"…if luck is on my side."
His gaze lingered for a moment.
As if evaluating.
As if remembering.
Then he let out a quiet chuckle.
"And if not…" he added lightly, "…at least I still get a very profitable day."
Clearly—for the first time, Ulysses Klaue was genuinely interested.
***
Some time had passed since the transaction.
Inside the same ship, the atmosphere was no longer as crowded as before. Some of the men had returned to their usual activities, but in one of the smaller rooms—filled with monitors and tangled cables—the tension felt sharper.
Ulysses Klaue stood behind one of his men.
The man was seated, slightly hunched forward, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. The screen in front of him was filled with lines of data, the result of attempts to hack into various databases.
"Faster," Klaue muttered quietly, his tone impatient but still casually composed on the surface.
"I'm trying, boss…" the henchman replied, fully focused.
Since there was no clear full name, the search was done using a single keyword:
Kama.
A few seconds passed.
"I've got something!" he said.
Klaue leaned slightly forward, eyes fixed on the screen.
The data that appeared… was not much.
Limited.
But enough to form a picture.
A woman—her identity not fully clear, but linked to someone named Kuro Tokito.
Klaue's eyebrows lifted slightly.
The next piece of information appeared: owner of a candy shop in Queens, United States.
Silence.
A few seconds.
Klaue didn't speak immediately.
"…A candy shop?" he repeated softly.
He let out a short laugh.
Brief.
Disbelieving.
He shook his head, taking a half step back.
"So this is what I'm dealing with?" he muttered. "A candy shop owner… with that much gold… and those strange spatial tricks?"
A smile slowly returned to his face.
Wider.
More dangerous.
"I like this," he said quietly.
He looked at the screen again, focusing on the name.
Kuro Tokito.
"…you're getting more interesting," he murmured.
He patted his henchman lightly on the shoulder.
"Keep digging," he ordered casually. "I want everything on that 'candy shop'."
He turned and walked out of the room.
The smile never left his face.
In fact—it deepened.
"…and if necessary," he added without looking back, "we might take a trip to Queens."
His tone was light.
But clearly—his curiosity had already turned into something far more serious.
***
Meanwhile, above the sea of clouds, beneath a clear blue sky, the Vimana sped forward at high velocity, cutting through the air without resistance.
On board, Kuro sat casually on a golden throne lined with red fabric.
In his hand was a glass of chilled Karuizawa 50 Year Old whiskey, its surface faintly shimmering as it reflected the sunlight.
Sitting sideways on his lap—Kama.
But Kuro's focus wasn't on the girl, nor the vast scenery around them.
His gaze was fixed on a system interface floating in front of him.
His fingers moved lightly, adjusting identity data through the newly unlocked function.
Even though he had already created a new identity a few days ago, it wasn't enough.
The details were still too shallow—no convincing past history, no solid origin, not even any family ties.
And in a world like the Marvel Cinematic Universe—that was a dangerous gap.
The technology in this world was far more advanced in terms of tracking and data processing compared to the Type-Moon world.
An identity without a history… was basically an invitation to be suspected.
Because of that, Kuro filled it in.
One by one.
A moment later, his hand stopped moving.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
Done.
Without hesitation, Kuro lifted his glass—and slowly took a sip of whiskey.
Before he could swallow it, Kama moved closer.
Her gentle hand slowly pushed the glass aside, as if delaying something that should have been simple… into something far more meaningful.
And then—the distance between them disappeared.
Their lips met.
Kuro paused, not because he couldn't react, but because Kama's rhythm was too gentle to interrupt.
The lingering taste shifted between them without words, like a warm liquid flowing from one side to the other—slow, deliberate, and somehow feeling more alive than the drink itself.
_____
Author's note:
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