Manhattan, 13th Street.
This was a commercial street, just a few minutes' drive from Stark Industrial Building.
Of course, Quinn hadn't come here to find Tony Stark, but to buy clothes for Otto. His otherworldly style of clothing looked a little weird in a modern city.
However, because it was midnight, most of the shops were closed, and only the scattered 24-hour shops were still lit.
"Why don't I come back tomorrow?" Quinn muttered to himself.
He'd forgotten about the late hour. Not seeing any clothing stores open, he decided to head home for a late-night snack instead.
Suddenly, he sensed something through his connection to one of his puppets. He and the puppets could share perception, though he could shield it when needed.
After Quinn had assigned Muzan and the Twelve Kizuki the task of quickly obtaining wish points, he'd let them operate independently, blocking out their perceptions except when they encountered familiar Marvel characters.
The reason for this was twofold: he didn't want to witness the cruel behavior of demons, but more importantly, he worried their actions might attract superheroes and cause the situation to spiral out of control.
The major events in Marvel seemed to occur frequently after Iron Man's debut, but that didn't mean Marvel's heavy hitters were all born after Tony Stark became a hero.
As a transit station in the universe, Earth carried too many secrets and countless powerful beings. You couldn't be too careful.
Secondly, the emotions of powerful individuals could provide him with more prayer points.
When he encountered familiar Marvel characters, he would act, weave stories, take inspiration from Mysterio's theatrical approach, attract attention, and trigger various strong emotions—resonance, anger, a sense of justice.
So when Blade broke into Rui's lair, Quinn knew about it immediately. He'd been thinking about what kind of story to weave to reveal more information and provoke a stronger response from the vampire hunter.
But fate had other plans.
Just as Quinn was composing his script, an uninvited guest interrupted his thoughts.
A whip lashed out from the darkness, trailing golden light.
Quinn, still absorbed in his planning, instinctively tilted his body, dodging the whip. It struck the ground and sent fragments flying.
Quinn squinted at the attacker in the darkness—all he could see was a pair of bright, piercing eyes.
The assailant was too well-concealed, wearing a linen robe of muted colors that seemed to melt into the shadows.
All Quinn could make out were those luminous eyes.
But even without seeing the attacker's face clearly, he'd already guessed their identity.
Without hesitation, he maximized his cardiopulmonary function and took a deep breath.
Air gathered and flowed into his abdomen, then surged through his bloodstream to his limbs, transforming into energy with solar attributes.
"Sun Breathing, Fourth Form: Fake Rainbow!"
Whoosh!
Flames erupted from the blade, illuminating the night.
Quinn gripped the Nichirin sword that materialized out of thin air. Using the momentum from his dodge, he slashed hard, drawing a wheel of flame like the sun through the air. The intense heat made the atmosphere shimmer.
The attacker flicked his right hand. The whip retracted instantly, transforming into a rigid staff that he raised to block.
Clang!
The blade struck the staff with a heavy metallic ring.
In the firelight's glow, Quinn finally saw his opponent's face clearly.
As he'd suspected—an ascetic monk with a shaved head and traditional robes. A mage from Kamar-Taj, the future colleague of Doctor Strange: Karl Amadeus Mordo.
And the weapon in his hand was the Staff of the Living Tribunal.
The two held their weapons locked together, wrestling for advantage, but neither could gain the upper hand.
Just as they were about to disengage and use other moves or magic to continue the fight, a pair of hands came to rest on both their weapons.
"That's enough."
The voice was calm and measured.
Quinn's eyes widened in shock as he looked up. A bald woman in a beige monk's robe stood beside them, smiling gently at the two combatants.
The Ancient One.
Though he'd known from the beginning that the Ancient One would find him, though he'd suspected she was watching ever since Mordo appeared—the moment he actually saw her, Quinn nearly called out her name.
Fortunately, he'd done enough psychological preparation in advance. He managed not to show any flaws in front of this Supreme Sorcerer.
"Supreme Sorcerer!"
Mordo immediately withdrew his weapon and bowed respectfully to the Ancient One.
Quinn also pulled back his blade and stepped away, pretending not to know who they were, watching them both with wary vigilance.
The Ancient One nodded slightly to Mordo, then turned her gaze to Quinn. "Young man, don't be afraid. We mean you no harm."
Hearing this, Quinn finally allowed himself to relax slightly.
He thought to himself: It seems my plan was successful.
In the future, there would be more and more puppets, and the theatrical productions he directed would grow in scale and influence.
As the Supreme Sorcerer, the Ancient One could observe the past, future, and even parallel universes. She would definitely notice him eventually.
Although the system could use mysterious means to shield the Ancient One from discovering the connection between himself and the puppets through time observation and other methods, since he wanted to follow Mysterio's example as a director, he would inevitably have frequent contact with the puppets, even playing important roles in the dramas he orchestrated.
That being the case, even if she couldn't find the truth directly, she could discover problems through reasoning.
Scrutiny was inevitable.
So how could he avoid revealing flaws and being eliminated by the Ancient One as a pest from some exotic dimension?
The answer was simple: become a "hero."
Quinn set a strict rule for himself. No matter how tempting it was, the only way he would connect with the puppets who played the role of villains was through remote contact and manipulation via the system. His only direct contact would be to act as the hero who "destroyed" them. Even when providing information indirectly, he would always stand on the side of justice.
That way, whether she was observing the future or using any other means, even if she had doubts, all she would ever see was the superhero "Quinn."
Of course, Quinn had passed the age of adolescent idealism, and he wasn't someone with an overwhelming sense of justice. If he tried to play the role of a messenger of righteousness, he wouldn't be able to pull it off convincingly—it would become an obvious flaw.
Fortunately, he wasn't evil either.
So he played himself, portraying a dark hero who didn't always stick to the law but possessed his own internal compass of right and wrong.
The Ancient One's attitude right now proved that his future self had strictly followed the rules he'd set from the beginning.
Otherwise, she wouldn't just be testing him—she'd be taking direct action.
"Who are you?"
Even as Quinn's heart relaxed, his face showed no sign of relief. He continued watching them warily.
"We are mages from Kamar-Taj." The Ancient One paused. "Well, you may not understand that. To put it another way—we're superheroes who secretly protect the safety of Earth."
"Alright, I understand that much."
Quinn nodded, still not letting his guard down, and said with a touch of sarcasm, "So as superheroes, attacking me in the middle of the night is also to protect the peace of Earth?"
"I had some doubts in my heart, so I tested you." Mordo folded the Staff of the Living Tribunal and offered Quinn an apologetic bow. "Your power is filled with the radiance of the sun. You cannot be a companion to those dark creatures. I sincerely apologize."