As the former best friend of the woman whose body Daisy now occupied, the Black girl had gradually grown distant from her as the gap in their social standing widened. Over the past two years, they had barely even spoken on the phone.
The Black girl looked much the same as before, which was only natural. Black people did not show their age easily—just look at Director Fury. There was not much difference between how he looked at thirty and at seventy...
She had her arm linked with that of a short, plump white man. They seemed very close. This chubby man was...
"Huh, Angela! Uh, sorry, my eyes are a little inflamed, so I can't be exposed to light. And this gentleman beside you is... Mr. Foggy Nelson?" It was somewhat rude to wear sunglasses when meeting an acquaintance, so she offered an explanation.
To make her blind-person persona fit the traditional image better, she conjured a white cane out of thin air. To outsiders, it looked as though she had been holding it all along.
She looked toward the short, plump man beside the Black girl.
This chubby guy seemed to be Daredevil's friend, right? Daisy closed her eyes. It was difficult to identify the man's true identity through his soul, mental, and life signatures alone, because there were far too many similar people. From the perspective of divine sense, they all looked about the same. She could only lower her perception and use his appearance to form an image of him in her mind.
Foggy, the short and plump man, had only met Daisy twice. If the Black girl had not been there, he would not even have come over to say hello.
Daisy currently looked somewhat aloof. If it had not been someone as warmhearted as