Maid?

Daisy was rattled by the situation. Hesitantly, she said, "My financial situation isn't great right now, so…"

The consul, who'd been watching from the sidelines, chimed in. "Please don't worry, Ms. Johnson. You bravely saved one of our citizens, and we'd like to offer a reward as thanks. Ms. Matsumoto is capable of supporting herself too—you have nothing to fear!"

The three other women and several consulate staff members all wore expressions that screamed, "Say yes! Say yes!" Meanwhile, Maki Matsumoto stood with fierce determination, waiting for Daisy's decision.

Daisy couldn't refuse. The consul hinted they'd use official channels to deal with the local criminals, ensuring no repercussions. Dazed, she accepted a $100,000 reward and left the consulate with Maki Matsumoto, her new "companion," in tow.

A cool breeze snapped her out of it, and she realized the smiling consul's deeper intent. He didn't want her talking about this. By accepting the reward and Maki, she'd taken hush money—silence was expected.

In this era, people generally kept their word. Someone like Daredevil's partner, who took compensation and then dug for the truth anyway, was rare.

Sighing at the shrewdness of politicians, cash-strapped Daisy pocketed the $10,000.

She turned to Maki and asked what skills she had.

She didn't have experience with firearms, driving, melee weapons, stealth, or assassination—none of the above. Maki only had a Japanese law license—not even fully past her internship—before being lured to the U.S. Her credentials weren't recognized here; she'd need to retake exams, master the language, and rely on Daisy for food, shelter, and basics.

On the way back, Daisy hacked into cameras near her rental. No suspicious figures appeared—likely the consulate's doing. Still, she stayed wary. Hell's Kitchen was a small world in some ways. If someone was looking for her—an above-average-looking woman—it wouldn't be hard to track her down.

She told Maki to wait, then called her roommate, urging her to stay with her parents for a few days. Daisy took a shortcut, racing back to the rental to pack.

She grabbed her electronics—hackers couldn't afford to leave evidence behind. She also packed some clothes. They were cheap, but they were hers, and she didn't want them falling into the wrong hands.

She stuffed her roommate's clothes into a bag, then bolted with a backpack and a suitcase.

Reuniting with Maki, they rented an apartment in Brooklyn, an area with a larger immigrant population.

"Here, take some clothes—yours got ruined," Daisy said, handing Maki two of her own outfits. Maki's clothes had been torn during her ordeal.

Maki was shorter and less fit than Daisy, clearly not one for exercise.

After settling into the apartment, Daisy discovered Maki could cook—a pleasant surprise. Asking further, she learned Maki had taken home economics classes growing up, a common skill for kids by age ten where she was from.

Daisy mused on how different things were elsewhere. In her past life, cooking roles had shifted over time, but she brushed the thought aside.

As a former struggling writer, she could cook too—just didn't bother often, especially with money tight. Now with some cash, she rolled up her sleeves to help.

"No, please—this isn't something you should do!" Maki firmly refused, ushering her out of the kitchen.

Fine, Daisy thought. She wasn't the industrious type anyway. After a morning of washing cars, tangling with troublemakers, and navigating chaos, she was starving.

In the U.S., lunch wasn't a big deal—people ate decently at breakfast and dinner, but midday was a toss-up. Daisy never adjusted to that.

Now, things could improve.

Soon, Maki made two dishes: one resembling mapo tofu and the other a stir-fry of greens and sprouts, which she called "Asian-style cooking." The main course was plain rice.

"I'm so sorry—it's rushed. I'll do better next time!" Maki said, bowing low in a formal apology.

Daisy waved it off, embarrassed. This was leaps beyond the bread she'd been eating.

"Let's eat together. It's safer here, but keep a low profile for a few days."

"I'm sorry for the trouble!"

After the pleasantries, they dug in.

With her Inhuman powers, Daisy's metabolism was fast—another reason she was always broke, spending most of her money on food.

She craved meat, big hearty portions. But Maki's dishes, while delicate and tasty, were small. Daisy ate most of the rice and veggies, yet wasn't even half-full.

She wanted to yell, "I need meat!" like Luffy, but since they'd just met, she didn't want to seem like a glutton. Smiling, she said she was full.

Maki cleared the table and started cleaning the apartment. Daisy, lounging with her legs up, felt too awkward to stay inside.

Leaving Maki to it, she went out and bought a stack of law books, basic English guides, and called the consulate. They promised to handle Maki's paperwork.

Back at the apartment, arms full of books, Daisy kicked off her shoes and found Maki washing clothes.

"Whoa, no—this is too much!" Daisy rushed to stop her. Maki calmly replied, "It's fine. I often helped my family with chores like this. Don't feel bad."

Flustered, Daisy changed the subject. "I got you some law books. You've got a foundation—work toward that license. And your English… the accent's a bit off."

Maki bowed again, saying thanks.