He does need a hooker!

Jon’s excitement gave way quickly to sober clarity—his self-experimentation might have succeeded, but if he wanted to genuinely prove the RAC’s capabilities beyond mere self-observation, he needed a test subject. A stranger, someone unaware, someone who couldn’t rationalize or falsify his findings.

He looked down at the device again, the possibilities sparking thrillingly in his imagination. Testing required careful observation, measurement, and of course—interaction.

“Maybe the idea isn’t so absurd after all,” he murmured with a thoughtful smirk, remembering his earlier grumble. It wasn’t like there were willing volunteers lining up for such risky, ethically murky experiments. But in the seedier parts of town, where anonymity was currency, perhaps he could find someone who’d ask few questions.

Pulling on clothes that now fit oddly over his stretched limbs, he threw on a dark jacket, tucked the RAC carefully inside a deep pocket, and stepped out of the lab into the fading evening. He caught the train from his usual stop, heading toward the less savory neighborhoods where neon lights spilled over cracked sidewalks and shadows played hide-and-seek beneath dim street lamps.

Settling into the jostling rhythm of the train, Jon leaned back, his mind drifting between apprehension and anticipation. But his thoughts were abruptly arrested when, at the next stop, a woman boarded and took a seat opposite him.

His breath caught slightly. Her raven-black hair framed a striking face—delicately angular, accented by thick, dark eyeliner that emphasized her intelligent, almond-shaped eyes behind stylish, round-rimmed glasses. She wore black ripped jeans, fishnets peeking through the gaps, paired with chunky boots and a cropped leather jacket adorned with patches and pins. The mixture of gothic allure and sharp sophistication instantly captivated him.

Jon tried not to stare, forcing his gaze away to the grimy window, heart quickening inexplicably. But his eyes drifted back again, drawn irresistibly by her effortless coolness and subtle sensuality. He noticed details: the way her full lips pursed thoughtfully as she scrolled on her phone, the gentle bounce of her crossed leg as the train swayed, her fingers adorned with intricate silver rings.

The train jolted, snapping Jon back to reality just in time—this was his stop. Reluctantly, he rose, casting one last glance at the woman. She didn’t look up, immersed in her own world. He stepped onto the platform, a sigh escaping him as the doors closed behind, taking her away.

Shaking his head, he reminded himself why he’d come here. Purposefully, he strode into the humid, noisy night, his senses assaulted by a blend of exhaust, food stalls, and cheap perfume. Neon signs flickered overhead, their electric buzz providing a gritty soundtrack to his quest.

Not far from the station, amid dimly lit alleys and shadowed doorways, he spotted what he sought—a woman leaning casually against a graffiti-tagged wall, cigarette dangling lazily from painted lips. Her provocative attire signaled her profession, her eyes catching his with practiced interest.

“You lookin’ for company tonight, honey?” she drawled, smoke curling seductively around her face.

Jon paused, heart sinking slightly. She was pretty enough, but something felt off—she lacked the spark, the intellectual edge that had stirred him moments earlier. The woman from the train lingered powerfully in his memory, a vision he couldn’t shake.

Then it dawned on him—he had the RAC. Why settle?

A plan took shape rapidly in his mind, excitement returning in full ****. This would be his real test: using the device not just to alter himself, but someone else. If it worked, reality itself would shift seamlessly, reshaping this woman to match precisely the alluring stranger he’d glimpsed so briefly.

“Yes,” Jon said finally, confidence returning to his voice as his hand tightened around the RAC in his pocket. “Actually, I am.”