Daisy was one of those upper-echelon figures who kept intelligence tightly under wraps. No matter how hard Stark racked his brains until smoke practically rose from his head, it was useless.
But by now, her advantage as a prophet had truly all but vanished.
If she did not want to follow the established course and destroy the multiverse, smashing everything inside the box to pieces, then she needed to come up with a solution herself.
"It's too early to discuss a plan. I need more time to prepare... In principle, I don't oppose your idea. In any case, we're still only at the planning stage. How much time do we have left?"
"2,445 days."
Daisy crossed her arms. She did not think the time was too long; she thought it was far too short. "That means less than seven years..."
After finishing her conversation with Molecule Man, Daisy returned to her estate with a head full of frustration.
Dealing with the Beyonder Race was not like planting trees or building houses. This was an enormous undertaking, and she needed to plan it carefully.
Molecule Man also had to scrap his previous plan and start over. After agreeing on a time, they each returned to their own worlds to think of solutions.
"Dad, would you like some water?" Daisy had changed clothes and had just sat down on the sofa when Little Franklin approached with remarkable obedience. The little girl still looked like a ten-year-old and held a teapot in her hands.
Huh? Why was her third girl being so well-behaved today? Had the sun risen in the west?
Daisy stared out the window for a long while, but found nothing unusual.
"Dad, you must be tired. Want me to massage your shoulders?"
"Dad, do you want some fruit?"
"I know!